ARTHUR REYNOLDS: Let them eat cake?

let-them-eat-cake

We are a nation obsessed with cake. Every Wednesday at 8pm, my female flatmates gather in our pokey living room to absorb the bastion of British TV that is the Great British Bakeoff.

By this time, I’m usually a few pints in and on my way to York’s finest pub, The Burns Hotel. A brewing temple where pints of Yorkshire produced ale, can be purchased for less than two pounds sterling – I should resume my campaign for Samuel Smith’s (the brewery that owns the Burns and other fine York based watering holes) to take over YUSU’s catering contracts. We’d all be richer, and more importantly: we’d all be drunker.

As its title proclaims, GBBO is exceedingly British; it conjures imagery of how the quintessential afternoon should be spent: bathing in glorious sunshine, sipping tea, chomping on delightful home baked cakes.

The great British reality is rather different. It’s raining. Your grandma’s drought-ridden Victoria Sponge is barely edible; your tea is lukewarm (she’s poured too much sour milk into it). A traybake and a cup of coffee at Morrisons' cafe would have been preferable. Trust me, my Gran worked there.

The middle class serenity portrayed by GBBO, is no more realistic than the idea that anyone can be a pop star cultivated by the X-Factor. Britain’s two most watched shows are in fact very similar.

Mr Hollywood is baking’s Simon Cowell. Some viewers live under the bizarre illusion that he’s attractive (tremendous arrogance does have its upsides); he snarls at those who under-perform, and flirts somewhat creepily with his small clique of favourites — sounds familiar?

Walsh and Berry are also strikingly similar. Both are ageing, slightly doddery — so harmless that they seem cute; side acts to the big nasty leading men.

The hosts, although differing in number, both serve the same purpose; they crack cringeworthy jokes, and pretend to be best mates with the contestants in return for a quite a few thousand pounds.

Both shows also seek to mock their contestants — singing woefully, or having your prized Baked Alaska collapse on national TV, must both be highly embarrassing.

So, why is one show lambasted, whilst the other is cherished?

It is because our media is dominated by the middle classes; conscious of the fact that they must be deeply middle class, they see a serene GBBO like state of affairs as the end game in their oh-so lovely British lives.

One commentator went as far as to say, ‘Mary Berry is a very British slice of sprightliness’. I would never endorse the opinion held by the former editor of this paper, that nation states are a broken concept, destined to fail; however attributing a woman’s sprightliness to her nationality is a frankly ludicrous position – one that enhances the grand illusion of Britishness that I have already outlined.

These journalists are the type of people I described in my last column, they pour scorn over Brexit by pontificating about ‘a lack of education’. In their eyes, the X-Factor is a show plagued with working class people, desperate to get rich and make something of themselves, to rise up and challenge the cushy middle classes that they epitomise. On Bake off, people potter around a kitchen being ‘British’ for very little personal gain — the competition is an end it itself – a moving portrait of the carefree lifestyle these journalists yearn for.

Too often in this country, we chastise those who have ambition. Whether they want to be rich, famous, or even get to the top of their game, we turn our collective noses up at them, seeing their ambitions as tasteless and tacky — why can’t they fall in line and be content to live the same dreary, but beautifully British, lives as the rest of us?

I’ve been guilty of this. In my very first politics seminar at York ( think back, these are usually very nervy, quiet affairs) our seminar tutor was asked, “What do I need to do to become an MP?”. He was slightly taken aback by this and proceeded to ask if the man in question was a member of any political party, when the answer was no, he politely advised that joining a party on campus was probably a good first step.

At the time, I thought this was a moronic question to ask. I mean how can you be so bold, but yet so clueless about what you to achieve? What sort of answer is he really expecting? I was tempted to blurt out, “ Win a bloody election!”.

However, despite the same individual going on to make more questionable comments (asking George Galloway if he would “wipe Israel off the map” really takes the cake) I have grown to respect his ambition and openness. Hundreds of students at York share his ambition, only most are too self conscious to express it — if you’re brave enough to announce an ambition, the chances are you’re going to be prepared to work like hell to make it happen.

Not everyone is content with being an average Joe – there is nothing tacky about wanting to build a better life for yourself and your family. If you try and achieve this by going on the X Factor, then good for you. Instead of mocking people who seek to make something of themselves, we should embrace their ambition and seek to further, and enhance it. Sure, not everyone will achieve their dream, but more people will have the confidence to go out into the world and strive for something — this has to be a good thing.

Steam successfully let off. Time to head to Bison and grab a brownie