John Higgs's Octannual Manual #39

2023 is coming

A COMEDY OF ERAS

History is a right mess. It’s a chaotic and incomprehensible mountain of stuff which should send anyone trying to grapple with it quite mad. It’s no wonder that we avoid seeing it in those terms, and instead attempt to project order onto it. We do this by dividing it up into eras - nice, comprehensible, heavily-fudged eras.

Here in Britain historians often define those eras by the passing of monarchs. Journalists like to use the passing of prime ministers. Normal people tally their lives by the changing Doctor Whos or James Bonds (or at least, I do). Given all this, it’s easy to think that, surely, we must have just stumbled into a new era - given the recent end of the monarch, prime minister, Bond and Doctor.

But that doesn’t mean that a new era is about to begin immediately. We may have a new prime minister, but it’s pretty much the same government. We won’t get a complete replacement until, most likely, 2024. We don’t get the new Doctor Who Ncuti Gatwa until 2024 either, as we will only get a few nostalgic David Tennant/Catherine Tate specials next year. 2024 is the earliest we might expect a new Bond. And as for King Charles, who knows? I suspect we might not have him for long. I could easily see him keeling over in a couple of years, probably after getting furious with a fork.

So reading the runes, and knowing how our minds like to organise things, I think we should pencil in a new era arriving in 2024. This would fit with the idea that a new century only really gets going - and becomes uniquely itself, rather than a hangover from the last - after 20 years or thereabouts.

But what about the period between now and 2024? In my KLF book, I talked about the moment after one wave of history withdraws and the next comes crashing in. It would be entirely appropriate, in this context, for the next such void between eras to be the year 2023.

At such times the old systems of thinking and framing things fall away, and the new system is not yet apparent. Things that seemed fixed and unmoving - such as the Conservative Party - can collapse from within, leaving only ruins. Such a time is, I think, a very good time to plant seeds. It’s amazing what you can get away with after the old rules fail and before the new rules are established.

None of this is painless, unfortunately. Change is necessary but change is difficult. 2023 looks like being a hard one to get through, not least in terms of bills, housing and the cost of living. For many it will be a head-down trudge, dealing with things a day at a time. Just getting through it will be a win. If ever there was a time when the snowglobe needed a shake, it is surely now - for better or worse, things can’t continue as they are.

We tend to project eras onto the chaotic mess of history in order to make it easier to look backwards. But I think it can help us to look forward also. There are times when it helps to know that a different system is about to be born. Winter is coming, as the Starks like to say, but Spring will follow as well. Keep on!

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PODCASTS

What the next era will be like is, of course, yet to be written, but there are a lot of ideas currently being debated. If you want an overview of some of the more positive potential futures, you’ll love Adventures in Nutopia, the new podcast from David Bramwell (You may remember I did a Watling Street podcast with David a few years back). The first episode is called New Myths To Live By, and is out today.

The next episode includes David interviewing me, Daisy Campbell and Michelle Olley about reality tunnels, so keep an ear out for that.

Until then, if you want to hear me talking on podcasts about Bond and the Beatles, you are in luck. There’s a few to choose from, not least of which is my appearance on Your Own Personal Beatles. I think I got away with the obligatory Controversial Beatles Opinion section.

You can also find me on The Intelligence, the daily podcast of the Economist, on the BBC’s HistoryExtra pod, and also in this fun conversation on York Calling. That should keep you busy.

I’ve nearly come to an end of this year’s talks and events to celebrate Love And Let Die - thanks to everyone who has come along. The remaining ones are at the Chapter Two bookshop in Chesham on Thursday (Nov 3rd), Sheffield Library on Nov 21st and Journey to Nutopia in the Cockpit Theatre, London, on Dec 7th. If you can, come say hello!

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LAST CALL FOR A COUPLE OF OLDIES

Those with long memories may recall a couple of short novels I put out the best part of a decade ago, THE BRANDY OF THE DAMNED and THE FIRST CHURCH ON THE MOON. These were released under the name ‘JMR Higgs’, for reasons that made sense at the time but which proved to be ultimately unwise. I’m going to take these titles, both paperback and ebooks, out of print.

Now, I’m pretty sure that everyone who wanted a copy of these has them by now, but I’m letting you know ahead of time, if only to cover myself against future complaints. There is a strange effect where things you can happily do without suddenly become utterly desirable when you can’t get them. This effect is more intense in our digital world, where things can stick around forever - regardless of whether anyone wants them to or not. The natural way is for things to have their moment and then fade away, and it is a wonderful thing to accept this. As a wise book title once instructed - Love And Let Die.

THE BRANDY OF THE DAMNED is the one which I still get people asking me about. It was written at the same time as the KLF book, and hence has a lot of the same ideas swimming around in it. I see it as a sister book to that title, one that explores the same territory through fiction rather than non-fiction. It’s about a band getting back together to drive a Transit van around the coast of Britain, for reasons that have been lost in the midst of time.

THE FIRST CHURCH ON THE MOON is my least successful book and also, perversely, my favourite. This is mainly for how much fun it was to write. It is a comedy - or at least, it is supposed to be. I would have loved to have written many books in this tone, but alas my sense of humour does not seem to be widely shared and the book didn’t really click with a lot of people. Still, this book taught me the importance of talking to a reader rather than talking to myself. When you’re offering a book out to the world it should be something difficult that you sweated over, rather than an indulgent merry lark - out of respect for the reader, if nothing else.

So, while both these books are currently still available - you can find them here - they will both be gone by Christmas, in line with the natural order of things. I like to think that this will somehow give an upgrade to all you who already have them on your shelves. They will be unchanged but, in some way, they will become more special.

Until next time!

jhx