Carry on living until further instructions

I have been listening to a little radio drama series called 'Curious Under The Stars' this week. There have been two or three of the series over the last few years, but this is definitely the last. That it will be the last is written into the plot, so there is no going back.

Every few years a drama turns up which really captures me, and I am filled with regret when it reaches a natural conclusion. They all (except one) have elements of fantasy, magic and humour and often seem to involve pubs and restaurants. That in itself would be enough to keep me listening - especially right now, when we are starved of pubs and restaurants.

The first I can remember was Nick Warburton's 'On Mardle Fen', which ran for one week over about 6 instalments. I asked Mr Warburton when the next new one was going to arrive and he said that he thought it had run its course now. It must be like being a pop star who is constantly requested to play all his old material. 

Curious Under The Stars is written by a Cornish woman called Anne Marie Murphy, although I suppose she could be an Irish woman who lives in Cornwall and writes about a small Welsh village. She is very striking in her appearance, and when I think about it she could easily be a mix of true Cornish and Irish - long dark hair and piercing dark eyes. I won't spoil it for you by describing the plot, just to say that she is so clever.

'Pilgrim'  by Sebastian Baczkiewicz (yes I did have to look up the spelling) is the drama which - although it contains many of the elements of the other two - does not depend too much on simple humour. It is much darker than the others, but just as clever.

The other piece of brilliance incorporated into Pilgrim is that it has no definite end. The pilgrim of the title is a man who was cursed to wander the earth forever on the road to Canterbury, 400 years ago. Currently he is in our world of today, desperately seeking forgiveness from other-worldly beings so that he can die. This means that the writer has not restricted himself to a limited number of episodes before a natural conclusion. The series could just go on until Baczkiewicz (I still had to look it up) can no longer physically write. That is what I call clever.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle got fed up with the arrogant know-all, Sherlock Holmes, quite early on in his career, so chucked him over the edge of a waterfall to kill him and his arch rival off for good. He did not want to write about his creation any more. He had come to despise Holmes.

When people wandered around London wearing black arm-bands in mourning for their hero, Conan Doyle was forced to bring him back to life for the sake of his readers and publisher, and we are still reading about him and watching films and plays about him today.

There can be life after death.

Cue Willie.