So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish
by Douglas Adams is the fourth book in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
trilogy. Like everything else connected to H2G2, it requires a suspension
of logic. The title is about fish, but the story is about dolphins–not really,
but dolphins are mentioned. This is a love story about Arthur Dent and
Fenchurch. You can start the H2G2 series at the beginning or jump in here. “We
apologize for the inconvenience.”
The book is full of wry, satirical
observations.
Arthur reached out for the bedside light, not
expecting it to come on. To his surprise it did. This appealed to Arthur’s
sense of logic. Since the Electricity Board had cut him off without fail every
time he paid his bill, it seemed only reasonable that they should leave him
connected when he hadn’t. Sending them money obviously only drew attention to
himself.
There is a feeling which persists in England
that making a sandwich interesting, attractive, or in any way pleasant to eat
is something sinful that only foreigners do.
Their mood gradually lifted as they walked
along the beach in Malibu and watched all the millionaires in their chic shanty
huts carefully keeping an eye on one another to check how rich they were each
getting.
But the reason I call myself by my childhood
name is to remind myself that a scientist must also be absolutely like a child.
If he sees a thing, he must say that he sees it, whether it was what he thought
he was going to see or not. See first, think later, then test. But always see
first. Otherwise you will only see what you were expecting. Most scientists
forget that.
The book's highlight is the story of the
biscuits (abridged here) …
“Ah. I know the type. What did he do?”
“He did this. He leaned across the table,
picked up the packet of biscuits, tore it open, took one out, and …”
“What?”
“Ate it.”
“What?”
“He ate it.”
Fenchurch looked at him in astonishment. “What
on earth did you do?”
“Well, in the circumstances I did what any
red-blooded Englishman would do. I was compelled,” said Arthur, “to ignore it.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, it’s not the sort of thing you’re
trained for, is it? I searched my soul, and discovered that there was nothing
anywhere in my upbringing, experience, or even primal instincts to tell me how
to react to someone who has quite simply, calmly, sitting right there in front
of me, stolen one of my biscuits.”
…
“There is that. So. When the empty packet was
lying dead between us the man at last got up, having done his worst, and left.
I heaved a sigh of relief, of course.
“As it happened, my train was announced a
moment or two later, so I finished my coffee, stood up, picked up the
newspaper, and underneath the newspaper …”
“Yes?”
“Were my biscuits.”
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