Anatomy of a blockbuster

Behind fashion as usual, I’ve finally read One Day, the runaway success by David Nicholls. To be honest, I was slightly underwhelmed by the time I finished it. The combination of too much hype and the excruciating plot contrivance in the closing pages left me unsatisfied – irritated even. But, I’m largely nit-picking. It’s an extraordinary achievement to have created so much public affection with a book, especially one so slight.

One Day is good clean fun; it’s not Madame Bovary. Its success, I think, lies is Nicholls’ adept use of set pieces to drive both plot and character, and his brilliance with dialogue. The two often combine: the scene of Emma and Ian’s second date, where Emma has to endure Ian’s nervous comedic patois, comes to mind – reminding me of any number of occasions when I, as the inept performer, realise that I’ve lost the audience, my date.