There's nothing like sitting down reading about Arthur Dent's adventure's in space and further and beyond and possibly a little less further than beyond but still quite far away from that small Islington flat where Arthur completely failed to get off with the girl of his dreams. HHGTTG is a book quite unlike any other. The unique brand of comedy that Douglas Adams brings to the table is a sight to see and I found myself laughing with almost every turn of the page. So what's this almighty tome of hilarity and important life lessons about?
Arthur Dent is a man, nothing particularly impressive or stand-out about him. One day he wakes up. (This part is taken straight from the book, there's no other way to properly describe it.)
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At eight o'clock on Thursday morning Arthur didn't feel very good. He woke up blearily, got up, wandered blearily round his room, opened a window, saw a bulldozer, found his slippers, and stomped off to the bathroom to wash.
Toothpaste on the brush --- so. Scrub.
Shaving mirror --- pointing at the ceiling. He adjusted it. For a moment it reflected a second bulldozer through the bathroom window. Properly adjusted, it reflected Arthur Dent's bristles. He shaved them off, washed, dried, and stomped off to the kitchen to find something pleasant to put in his mouth.
Kettle, plug, fridge, milk, coffee. Yawn.
The word bulldozer wandered through his mind for a moment in search of something to connect with.
The bulldozer outside the kitchen window was quite a big one.
He stared at it.
"Yellow,'' he thought and stomped off back to his bedroom to get dressed.
Passing the bathroom he stopped to drink a large glass of water, and another. He began to suspect that he was hung over. Why was he hung over? Had he been drinking the night before? He supposed that he must have been. He caught a glint in the shaving mirror. ``Yellow,'' he thought and stomped on to the bedroom.
He stood and thought. The pub, he thought. Oh dear, the pub. He vaguely remembered being angry, angry about something that seemed important. He'd been telling people about it, telling people about it at great length, he rather suspected: his clearest visual recollection was of glazed looks on other people's faces. Something about a new bypass he had just found out about. It had been in the pipeline for months only no one seemed to have known about it. Ridiculous. He took a swig of water. It would sort itself out, he'd decided, no one wanted a bypass, the council didn't have a leg to stand on. It would sort itself out.
God what a terrible hangover it had earned him though. He looked at himself in the wardrobe mirror. He stuck out his tongue. ``Yellow,'' he thought. The word yellow wandered through his mind in search of something to connect with.
Fifteen seconds later he was out of the house and lying in front of a big yellow bulldozer that was advancing up his garden path.
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Hopefully this extract has given you enough of an idea of what this book contains. I personally love this book to death. I can't describe it.
All I can really say is...
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