Ed Reardon's Week

Blog: Guest editors, online poker and 'talkdownmanship'

I suppose it was around the end of last week that I was forced to bow to the inevitable and accept that, once again, Ed Reardon had not made the short-list to be Guest Editor of the Today programme.

Ed's back! This would be good at any time, but in a miserable January and on a day when Radio 4 seems largely otherwise occupied with violence of one kind or another, the on-air presence of the peerless fictional curmudgeon is pure joy. Not even the multiple trailers advertising his return can ruin his opening rant, about the inappropriate wearing of poppies and such. Trends (in garments, themes, bad grammar, three-book deals) seem to be getting in Ed's way more than usual. It's cheering to spot so many recognisable people in Ed's universe of grump.

Blog: A royalties cheque and a half-decent bottle

Readers will be on tenterhooks to discover how went my foray into Broadcasting House, the dual purpose being to record some promotional 'trailers' for the forthcoming series of Ed Reardon's Week and more importantly to come back with a substantial haul of party food.

Blog: Bijou trailerettes and purloined sausage rolls

It is that time of year when Elgar's tin of cat-food has snow on the letters of the word 'VALUE' and sprigs of holly round the dents.

On Radio 4, we heard from another grumpy and financially unsuccessful writer. I speak of the fictional Ed Reardon, author of episode 29 of Tenko ("I still use Burt Kwouk's risotto recipe"), a play called Educating Peter and [o]John Kettley's Big Book of Weather[/i]. Reardon, named for Edwin Reardon in Gissing's novel New Grub Street, is my hero, the only man worth listening to - I exclude even the sainted Eddie Mair in this instance - after a bad day at the keyboard.

An Audience With Ed Reardon came to us "live" from Edinburgh, where some 12-year-old BBC commissioning editor had provided our hero (played by one of his creators, Christopher Douglas) with readers for his jottings in the form of a couple of actors from a fringe production of Titus Andronicus. Poor Ed. He'd wanted Rodney Bewes, who starred in the film of Ed's awful novel, Who Would Fardels Bear? "Rodney Bewes would have nailed it!" he shouted when they fluffed a bit from Educating Peter. I laughed out loud at this, though I do see - how to put this? - that one must be of a certain age and sensibility to get this gag. Ditto the moment when he yelled: "I'll do the Trimphone!" Oh, Ed. If only you were real, I'd pop over to Berkhamsted and buy you lunch.

Embracing ageing with open arms, the crustiest antediluvian on radio was back in the form of Ed Reardon, performing "With Great Pleasure without the pleasure" in a stage version of his own works. Written by Andrew Nickolds and Christopher Douglas, An Audience With Ed Reardon was a savage hymn to the horror of freelance life, complete with rejection slips, ("Dear Mr Reardon, how did you get this address?") and excerpts from his afternoon play, A Bargeful of Blood, described by one reviewer as "the most harrowing afternoon's ironing I've ever had". Failure is a theme that English writers have always done well - think of Dickens - and Reardon encapsulates brilliantly the plight of an ageing hack beset by new technology, patronising publishers and "12-year-old commissioning editors". You wonder what will happen when Ed encounters a BBC Media Literacy Ambassador, but somehow you can already imagine.

Radio review: An Audience with Ed Reardon

Like the sitcom, this was Reardon the curmudgeon ranting at more successful writers.

Ed Reardon - author, pipe smoker, consummate fare-dodger and master of the abusive email, as he likes to be known - is one of the best and most original comic figures to appear on radio this last five years. Recorded in front of an eager crowd at this year's Edinburgh Fringe, this live performance features Ed - played by Christopher Douglas - reading extracts from his oeuvre, including Jane Seymour's Household Hints (ghost-written) and an episode of Tenko. While not as unremittingly funny as an episode of Ed Reardon's Week, it's still worth catching.

Radio: Ed Reardon's Week

It is one of life's great imponderables that the misadventures of Christopher Douglas and Andrew Nickolds's indomitable failure are broadcast at a time when few but Ed himself are likely to be listening. Particularly as this latest - the sixth, can it be so long? - series has been of a standard as high as any.

Radio Review: Ed Reardon's Week

It's taken six series to happen, but now I'm laughing.