Across the Pond

So it turns out that the US publication date is not, in fact, in March.  This is as much news to me as it is, dear reader, to you, I suspect.  I mean, I’m sure I should’ve investigated these things thoroughly, but to be honest, the idea didn’t really occur to me until a few weeks ago, when people started asking me what the US release date was and I sat there going… good god… it’s all in English, isn’t it?  Why the delay?  To which, I hasten to add, I have no immediate reply.  Sorry.

Infuriating as this will be for you, America (at least, it’d better be infuriating!) I gotta admit as a Brit there is a tiny twinge of satisfaction whenever we realise that we’ve got hold of something first.  So much of what we read and watch in the UK is an American import, that we spend a lot of our lives infuriated by the fact that a few million people on the other side of the Atlantic not only know who wins the Presidential race in West Wing, or whether Jack Bauer ever makes it to the toilet in 24, that on those rare occasions where the UK actually exports some culture of its own, we, the hallowed devotees of the BBC and UK book imprints, might actually be ahead of the trend.  The urge to bounce up and down shouting out what happens at the end of Sherlock or who does what to whom in the final 45 minutes of Doctor Who, for anyone over the Pond who’s seen either of these, is a mischievous but no less tempting urge.  I must admit, I even experience it with less international occasions… for example, when the final book of Harry Potter came out, I went out of my way to read the last seven pages (but as of yet, not the whole book) so that if anyone grew too insufferable on the subject I could walk up to them and spoil the ending.  As it is, I never did, but it was a nice, naughty fantasy to indulge.  I apologise right now for my ignoble urges on this front… but let’s face it, I’m only human…

Truth of the matter is, the UK runs to a great degree on American culture.  Sure, there’s a lot of rubbish made which we are spared, but Friday nights on most commercial British channels tends to be imported-American-drama night, unless of course it’s BBC4 in which case it’s imported-(brilliant)-Danish-drama night.  We’re also fascinated by American politics.  The Republican primaries, for example, are something of a surreal punctuation to our late-night news, a veritable parade of candidates whose views often range from the astounding to the absurd.  During US Presidential elections, large parts of the UK sit up late to watch the results come in; I remember staying up last time for the result to come in from Pennsylvania, clinging to the edge of my seat with a cry of ‘Come on Obama!’ and almost shaking with relief when it became apparent that the Democrats had taken the White House.  In many ways this fascination with US politics is a symptom of being a superpower; who wears the crown in Washington can have genuine and serious repercussions for the rest of the world, unlike the frequently jumped-up prancing Prime Ministers we get in Downing Street.  It’s also, I’d argue, a fascination with just how extreme American politics seems to us.  ‘Liberal’ as a dirty word?  ‘Socialism’ as essentially being the same as ‘communism’; abortion and gun control as subjects even remotely up for debate?  In Britain the most passionate people seem to get about politics is when little old ladies stand outside government departments and politely request a form letter of explanation regarding the state of the roads.  America is a whole other world to us, yet one we’re continually immersed in and, by extension, fascinated, enthralled and, frequently, impatient as we wait for more.

So, in short – sorry America.  Publication is soon, I promise!  May 1st, to be exact.  And to any Americans reading this – hello!  Greetings from across the pond!