Someone has commissioned Eoin Colfer to write another Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Novel.
This seems like the most stunningly pointless and inane piece of sequel making in the history. Certainly it is perhaps the decision that most mistakes what people really love about the Hitchhikers’ series. It’s not primarily about the characters, folks, it’s about what Adams does with them, the way things go in every possible and impossible direction, the brilliant dialogue and the insane ideas. It’s not something that’s replicable – as the film, which was Hitchhiker-lite, despite Adams having done the first draft, proved – nor indeed does it work quite as well in novel form as on the radio. (Go on, admit it, you *know* it’s true – original Radio 4 Hitchhiker is the brilliantest and the bestest). It’s certainly not something Colfer’s given any hint he can do, and I quite enjoy Artemis Fowl.
Oh really, really, really, world. Hitchhiker’s isn’t a franchise that you can sell off to new people. It’s really far too specific in its origins, style and humour for that, and this new book can just Go Far Far Away.
