Breakfast is not love, or war, or death, or life. It is not one of the great themes of literature. But still, it lurks there in the background, a daily heartbeat, telling us what that character does when they are not experiencing the disruptions that drive great stories. More often than not, all that character wants is the freedom and happiness of which the ability to breakfast as they wish is a symptom.
In the words of JB Priestley, “We plan, we toil, we suffer – in the hope of what? A camel load of idols’ eyes? The title deeds of Radio City? The empire of Asia? A trip to the moon? No, no, no, no. Simply to wake up just in time to smell coffee and bacon and eggs.”
I’m not really a breakfast person – just a cup of strong black coffee and from my collection of magazines or the Net, a dosage of art (be it beautiful and unique architecture, interior design, painting or fashion). After which I face the day. By mid-morning, I could gobble down a whole table.
Read the article on The Guardian here.