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Just what would Dostoyevsky do?

There are times when being starved of a good read is a crime and a punishment.
Despite a world crammed full of books there are frequent times I find myself with nothing to read but the ingredient list of my breakfast muesli box.
And though fascinating in how much sugar, fat and preservatives it contains, it does as little to nourish the mind as it does the body.
In these times of literary need I sometimes wonder what books I would put into print if I were a publisher.
Perhaps the first one that would get the nod of approval would be a tell-all autobiography from television chef Gordon Ramsay.
The working title for this would probably be Ramming it Home or Gordon: Still a Bastard.
As a publisher I would ensure he detailed his heart breaking early years as a child chimney sweep, the horrific beatings he suffered at the hands of his evil stepmother, who was also a witch, and his alcoholic father who used to make him jig for pennies on the cold, grey streets of London.
Whether this is true or not is anyone's guess but anything less would make his current bullish and embarrassingly fame- addicted behaviour completely and utterly inexplicable.
Of course it would not make him any more bearable.
While on the cooking theme it beats my powers of imagination as to why Tennent: Am I Excited By Seafood? hasn't already hit the bookshelves.
That the outgoing New Plymouth mayor and suspected Deep Fried Seafood Industry honorary president deserves a book goes without saying. Now that he no longer has to attend 17 city functions each day he will certainly have the time to write it. Several chapter titles he could reel off without much effort already spring to mind: Fun with Fish Bites, Super Smorgasbord Secrets and Third Helping Hints for a start.
Without hesitation I would also authorise the production of a number of alternative Mills and Boons romances.
These need not be original novels but rather old ones with a new final epilogue chapter attached.
It is in this section that Ramone, the steely gazed Venezuelan stablehand who swept rich but disillusioned socialite Julia Van Der Vilt off her feet during her steamy South American tour, would be found prone on the couch, remote control in hand, 37kg overweight and an empty bottle of sherry on the floor.
Julia, meanwhile, sits in New York sipping a mocha latte thanking her lucky stars her fling with Ramone petered out after six weeks and that she is now happily married to a rich hedge fund manager called Ian.

The reason these extra chapters are necessary is to ensure historical accuracy when future civilised societies trawl through our rubbish dumps. Because while there are millions of intelligent books out there, there are billions more bodice- ripping yarns squirrelled away in all manner of crevices and so it is likely these will be the ones archaeologists find and base their understanding of our society on.
Surely life is hard enough for men already and anything we can do to ensure they don't fall even further short of expectations in the future should be done now.
Fantasising about books that could be published is not really responsible when there are already millions of books out there everybody is buying but no one is reading. These are generally known as classics and were written in a time before TV and processed foods, thereby making them incomprehensible to most people.
As a reader of books it is perhaps a guilty admission that I have only ever appreciated one classic novel. I have tried many others and generally fallen asleep or developed arthritis in my eyes six lines into the third chapter.
But I finished Fyodor Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment without problem. Indeed, even today I still believe it's a gripping read.
The book had somehow wormed its way into my bag as I tripped around China back in 2002 and when I found myself facing a five-day train trip, with just a few dollars in my pockets, it turned out to be a saviour.
To those who don't know, a Chinese train is to sanity what a hot knife is to butter and it does not take a non-Chinese passenger long to quite completely lose their marbles.
Though you don't start dribbling and mumbling until the third day it is actually the second day that is the worst because that is when you are most aware your wits are leaving you and when you are most concerned about trying to hang on to them.
It was at this stage in my reading of Crime and Punishment that the main character Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov starts a similarly vicious descent into anxious guilt and madness after killing an old woman with an axe for about the same amount of money I had at my disposal.
And from then on it was as easy, as if I was reading the story of my life.
- Taranaki Daily News

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