Christmas Eve

In the true spirit of Christmas, the Times asked a bunch of arts-connected people to talk about the classics they can’t stand. Yes, it’s listmania as the silly season starts. There is a certain amount of shooting fish in a barrel (i.e. Oasis) but there are some gems, notably Spectator columnist Matthew Parris on listening to the Beatles in the 60s:

Well, it left me cold. I just thought it was crass. All that banging about, boring, babyish tunes and noisy choruses. I slightly fancied George Harrison, but that was all.

Well, yes. And theatre director Jude Kelly on Rubens:

His cherubs seem far too knowing and they always seem to me to have a slightly sexual, devilish air. They always look as though they have eaten enormous amounts of chocolate. They seem to be the antithesis of spirituality, the way they prop themselves up with their head on their hands, sort of languorous. Where’s their work ethic, that’s what I want to know.

A happy Christmas to you all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare for the arrival later today of my sister-in-law. And when I say “prepare”, I mean “drink”. Yes, it’s a bit early in the day but that is, frankly, how one prepares to face Laughy Kate.