READING through one's teenage diaries is never a comfortable
experience. But when the entries envision the ideal husband as
somebody who will never let you out of their sight, and who has a
clear sense of mission, then the only proper response is to
squirm.
And so we squirmed with Jenn Ashworth as she divulged her
youthful enthusiasm for a life of devotion to the Church of the
Latter-day Saints, in The Faith of Children or Kumbayah and All
That (Radio 4, Easter Monday), during which we heard from
writers and comedians brought up in a variety of faith
traditions.
As it transpired, Ashworth's testimony was the most vivid and
authentic of the five contributors here, her teenage piety balanced
precariously between intensity and scepticism. Neither she nor any
of the other protagonists have held on to their faith; but she, at
least, gave some sense of what it was like to believe in a set of
doctrines, however peculiar they appear in retrospect.
In the other case-studies, reminiscence seemed coloured by the
scepticism of the adult; and one wonders whether the title of this
programme was intended to make up for this lack of engagement with
the nuts and bolts of faith. Curiously, nobody even mentioned the
song "Kumbaya" - that quintessential expression of piety; and
anybody keen to relive, through some masochistic impulse, the pains
of Sunday school would have found no catharsis here.
Eighty years ago, two drunks met in a bar, and embarked on a
kind of catharsis that would transform their lives, and those of
millions. Alcoholics Anonymous, Henry Kissinger said, is America's
greatest gift to the world: a gift currently received by two
million people worldwide. The 12-Steps system has inspired any
number of other self-help regimes, although it is not universally
admired.
No 30-minute documentary is capable of covering all the bases,
but AA: America's Gift to the World (Radio 4, Easter
Monday) was inadequate as an account either of the history of the
organ-isation, or as an assessment of its efficacy. In A. L.
Kennedy we had a guide who could not provide answers to some basic
questions. Thus the apparent lack of a central organisation or
organising principle went unaddressed; as did the movement's roots
in the more explicitly faith-based Oxford Groups of the 1920s and
'30s.
The central characters, Bill Wilson and Bob Smith, were
sketchily drawn - the former, a mercurial visionary with a Wall
Street background, keen to spread the message globally; the latter,
the more punctilious and parochial of the two - but the fascinating
archival recordings of their voices were marred by inadequate
contextualising and attribution. I hope that this important
anniversary is marked with a more coherent account before the year
is out.
If you get no kicks from champagne or any other booze, what
about the Teletubbies? The show termed "crack for babies" is
returning; and Profile (Radio 4) last Saturday reminded us
what all the fuss was about. If nothing else, it is guaranteed to
become cult viewing for the inebriated, nostal-gic adolescent.