Last year, I was sitting in the gr
een room of a literary festival wi
th an international group of write
rs, enjoying the good company and
free wine, when one of them decide
d we all really needed to know abo
ut two very famous, very gorgeous
– and also very married – writers
who had recently had a secret affa
ir. Apparently, the man had gone a
round boasting about it, unbeknown
to his female lover, I’m sure. Oh
, what a cad. It was a bonding mom
ent for all of us as we gasped at
this priceless gem of gossip landi
ng in our laps.
I admit that I’ve always loved fin
ding out about illicit affairs and
sexual trysts – people’s hidden l
ives, hidden stories. But who does
n’t like a good gossip? Sure, I’ve
known a few sanctimonious souls i
n my time who’ll feign disapproval
at such scurrilous behaviour, but
the rest of us mere mortals scurr
y around scavenging for morsels of
information, salivating when we c
ome across something juicy. It’s u
nfair that gossip gets a bad press
when it’s really a kind of data-s
haring interaction, isn’t it? (Isn
’t it?) And a healthy sign of curi
osity about the lives of others, a
s opposed to being self-obsessed.
And in spite of the naysayers, who
can honestly hold their hands up
and say they’ve never talked about
other people behind their backs?
Admittedly, there’s a fine line be
tween harmless gossip and bitching
, and I’ve dropped a couple of mat
es over the years because they tur
ned into pathological character as
sassinators. When you’re hanging w
ith people like that, it not only
gets boring, but you are also, as
a listener, somehow made complicit
.
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jesus apostle
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