Anyway, on to the fun bit... (Please feel free to make up your own list as you follow mine - it's imaginary, so they can be living or dead, real or fictional. You choose.)
Any friends of mine will be in no way surprised at my first choice of guest: Prof. Jameel Sadik "Jim" Al Khalili, OBE FRS. He is a quantum physicist, author and broadcaster. Professor of Physics and Head of Public Engagement in Science at the University of Surrey in Guildford. He is a regular science presenter on BBC TV and radio and a recipient of the Royal Society Michael Faraday medal, the Institute of Physics Kelvin Medal and the very first Stephen Hawking Medal. He is the current president of the British Science Association. An impressive list, no?
It is Mr Al Khalili's quietly compelling style of writing and presenting that enchants me. I have read many books on the sciences and watched many documentaries, but none delight me as much as Jim's with their gentle, emphatic narratives and inspiring visuals of ground-breaking experiments. I particularly admire his respect for his cultural home's contribution to science and mathematics, and found his 'Science and Islam' documentary fascinating. His respect for other scientists' contributions is also clear, particularly in his radio series 'The Life Scientific'.
I know no-one better at packaging up the utter nonsense of quantum physics in easy to read books. His explanation of the role of quantum entanglement and antioxidants in the robin's mysterious navigation systems is entirely accessible to an enthusiastic amateur like myself. I'm sure scientists and researchers provide considerable chunks of the books and documentaries, but his particular style of weaving stories and facts around ground-breaking developments in science taps directly into my love of science. I bet he has some good stories, too!
Stop creeping away - I haven't chosen 10 physicists for my dinner party, and Einstein is not invited!
The second name on my list is Simon Reeves, the travel presenter. Mr Reeves is not an academic. I read recently an excerpt from his biography describing the aimlessness of his early life and career. What is so endearing about him is his wonderful sincerity and acceptance of people from all walks of life, wherever he finds them and whatever their circumstances. I struggle to understand how someone of such clear principles can remain so fair and objective in their summary of a place and it's people. But his curiosity and his sincerity are clear. This is not a man who uses clever language to camouflage his feelings as he interviews a Somali pirate at the door of his prison. He is genuinely open and willing to hear their stories, their experiences and their reasons. (The universally reviled pirates turn out to be displaced fishermen, desperate to make a living in a war zone.)
In his programmes, he often chooses geometric or ocean borders as routes which means an arbitrary assortment of destinations. (Tropic of Cancer, Tropic of Capricorn, Indian Ocean, Mediterranean etc.) This ensures that we don't fall into that comfortable pattern of similar destinations and similar, familiar stories. The encounters and contrasts this throws up are always interesting and sometimes staggering. In Mediterranean, he looks at the economic, cultural, social, political, religious and environmental issues of the countries bordering the Med. He speaks to businessmen, politicians, farmers, asylum seekers, monks and criminals. As each encounter ends, you are left with the feeling that the views of those people are completely understandable, even if you disagree completely with what they are doing.
I think his visit to a rubbish dump in the idyllic Maldives, after exploring the well-known vistas of turquoise seas and white sand coral atolls, was one of the most affecting scenes I have seen in a travel programme. The overflowing, burning pile of waste that sat in the middle of that astounding beauty was shocking. Conversely - there is the wonderful woman in Gaza who had returned home, after studying engineering in Britain, to use her expertise and innovations to turn rubble from the ruins into bricks for home-builders, (the embargo on building materials imposed by Israel meant that homelessness was rife.)
His slightly 'goofy' delivery and disarming way with people belie, I think, a deeply concerned and humane soul. Would that I could connect with people in such a way! So, Mr Reeve will be coming along. And stories? Definitely!
I can see this dinner party becoming serialised! I think I'll make this the last one for now.
My next choice would be the inimitable John Lloyd. I first heard of Mr Lloyd in tandem with his great friend, Douglas Adams - he worked on the radio series of 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'. Now, I feel it only fair to explain that, although many of my interests can appear very serious and dry subjects to the uninitiated, I have always had a sense of humour, and a sharp one at that. And it seems that Mr Lloyd has been lurking in all the places that I have found my brand of humour over the years. I say lurking, as he is a writer and producer so his face is rarely seen, however, the impression of his wit and humour are evident wherever he has had involvement.
He has either written or produced on most of the TV comedy series I have loved over the years - Hitchhiker's, Not the Nine o'clock News, Blackadder, Splitting Image and QI, (which is the only thing I find worth watching on terrestrial TV these days!) His books, (not to mention all the QI Fact books) include two of my favourites (co-written with Douglas Adams): "The Meaning of Liff", and "The Deeper Meaning of Liff". These two tiny volumes are easy to miss on the bookshop shelves, but they are priceless. Born out of a long friendship with Adams, and a holiday in Corfu, what had begun years before, as a word game suggested by Adam's English teacher, became one of the most lastingly funny things I have ever read. I can almost imagine the drunken deliberations in the taverna by the beach.
The Meaning of Liff was described as a “dictionary of things that there should be words for, but aren’t”. The definitions describe things familiar to everyone; the words themselves are all place names. For example, an Ely is “the first, tiniest inkling that something, somewhere has gone terribly wrong”; Kettering is “the marks left on your bottom and thighs after sitting sunbathing on a wickerwork chair”; and Scrabster (a village in Caithness) is “one of those dogs that has it off on your leg during tea”.
I was 15 in 1983. In the preceding year, I had gone from being an artistically and academically gifted student who never received less than an A, to a truanting, academically failing, desperately confused wreck. I had no friends in school or outside. My parents thought perhaps I was on drugs, and didn't try to hide their disappointment (how dare their talented child not live up to their expectations). In fact, I was just another teenager with undiagnosed Asperger's, trying to survive a hostile and changing world that was more bewildering by the day. The Meaning of Liff was one of the things that got me through that time. It tucked easily into my pocket and would take it everywhere, secretly guffawing into my jacket whenever I turned a page.
Yes, Mr Lloyd is an important addition to my list of guests. You'll have to tune in next time to see if the late Mr Adams will be joining him!
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