Desert Island Discs: time to cast away?

During the past few weeks I've been cast away in Dagenham.  I’m not at liberty to say why, other than to refer you to my next blog when it will become pretty clear.

Luckily, the BBC recently launched a fantastic new website archiving every episode of Desert Island Discs from 1942 to the present.  Along with time trecking in from Oxford, I’ve managed to get through pretty much a year’s worth of castaways over the last couple of months – and what fascinating listening it has been!

There’s much to admire about Kirsty Young – her beguiling voice conjures up half-suppressed memories of me failing to concentrate on the content of her tv news presentation.  But she doesn’t just look and sound good – she has a real talent for creating intimacy with her guests and gently teasing out revealing, personal insights. 

The format helps - castaways expect to be quizzed about family relationships, sexuality and beliefs, as well as being invited to reflect on how they would cope on a desert island.

At its best, this is powerful stuff:  Young deftly found Martina Navratilova's emotional sweetspot, not her 29 grand slams or being ‘outed’, but rather undimmed anger at the Communist regime who prevented her family from sharing her first Wimbledon victory.  It was gut-wrenching to hear writer Peter Ackroyd admit he never introduced his partner of 25 years to his mother, fearing her reaction to his being gay.  And I confess that when she expertly coaxed Doreen Lawrence to talk of the last words spoken by a passing stranger to her murdered son (“you are loved”), it was the last time I properly cried.

The music helps the emotions, and provides another angle on castaways.  Surely I’m not alone in spending rather too much of my time deciding which 8 discs I will choose, just as soon as my invitation arrives? 

This delusion wasn’t helped by watching Tom Stoppard’s The Real Thing last week, where the main character, a self-centred playwright, spends most of the play choosing his discs, with a view to making himself look sophisticated and hide his love of cheesy pop – the very act of which shows as much about his vacuous character as any particular track. 

Whilst many guests ask for great but predictable works (Mozart, Beatles…), there are some gems.  The best of the last year has to be the heartbreaking counterpoint of writer Vikram Seth’s choice, the BBC’s 1942 recording of Nightingales and Lancaster Bombers, Recorded in a Surrey Wood.  (It was actually meant to be broadcast live, but a quick-thinking engineer pulled the plug at the last moment, realising that it would reveal the existence and position of the pilots; thankfully the recording remains).

Interestingly, it’s often the random, unexpected details which are most memorable:  we learn that architect Charles Jencks has two handles on each door in his house; Vikram Seth admitted his bisexuality only in an interview with his sister; Terry Wogan has groopies called TOGS (Terry’s Old Geezers / Gals).  And that Baroness Hollins met her partner whilst volunteering with VSO, whilst rugby player Brian Moore is a trained nail stylist.

My least favourite castaway was the slightly crazy historian Paul Johnson, though he did come out with some choice quotes, complaining that “liberals in government always poison the mix” and Jean-Paul Satre was “a very ugly little man”!

And finally there is the sign-off – “Thank you for sharing your desert island discs”, followed by a pause – which guests always fill, often bearing their soul in a few short words.  Listen carefully and it’s pretty clear if they consider being a guest as a privilege or a birthright.

So far so great – but Desert Island Discs is not beyond reproach.

One criticism is that Kirsty Young is too cosy with castaways, failing to challenge them - Hard Talk this ain’t.  I certainly squirmed as the new chair of the British Medical Association, Baroness Hollins – having done so much to speak up for children with disabilities, then failed miserably to criticise the Catholic church’s shameful record on paedophile priests - whilst the presenter let it drop.  And yet when you don’t want challenge – take comedians John Bishop, Jackie Mason or Jonny Vegas – she somehow renders them mawkish and humourless.

Maybe it’s just a bit old-fashioned – after all, it’s been going 60 years, the longest-running factual programme in the history of radio.  Castaways are automatically given the complete works of Shakespeare, which comedian Jackie Mason rejected as “a little ridiculous”.  Personally I think the bible has some good stories and may turn to it if marooned any longer in Dagenham, but comedian Tim Minchin clearly saw the offer as anachronistic in this post-religious society, accepting it only as its thickness would provide ample material for his fire! 

The most worrying sign that the programme is losing its way is its choice of castaway.  Of the year’s worth of guests I heard, there were certainly some interesting, challenging, original guests.  But there was also a good number who I thought not only ‘who are you?’, but also ‘what have you done to deserve this honour?’.

Is this my prejudice?  Here are the facts: of the last 52 episodes, no fewer than 37 focus on the world of ‘entertainment’ (10 actors, together with sportsmen, musicians and broadcasters and rather too many fashion journalists - it’s 42 if you count writers). 

Don’t get me wrong - I very much value the role of entertainers, but they are not 80% of the important people.  Where are the scientists, the businessmen, teachers, and healthworkers, the thinkers, campaigners, public figures?

In conclusion, regrettably, I believe the castaways have lost their way.  With sadness, I feel we should grant David Dimbleby his final, cheeky, luxury – as requested, he can take Kirsty Young with him to his desert island.