The Guinness Book of Records Problem

I was woken early one morning by a loud banging on my back door. I quickly dressed and rushed downstairs to find Alun standing there with two complete strangers, clearly both mainlanders.

 

“Why on earth are you waking me at this hour?” I asked. “It’s barely six-thirty.”

 

“It’s the Guinness Book of Records, Jed,” he said. “We’re going to be in it.”

 

“Are you sure?” I said. It seemed highly unlikely.

 

“Yes Jed, we’re about to set the record for the shortest ever Happy Island story.”

 

“But the story’s only just started.”

 

“Exactly Jed, and it’s about to finish. These men are officiators from the Book of Records, and they’re here to confirm that a record has been set.”

 

We turned to look at the official on my right, who exuded an air of authority that we all took to mean he was in charge. I thought about asking the man’s name, and formally introducing myself, but given that the story was about to end I didn’t think it would be worth the effort of learning names. In fact, I won’t even bother describing him, it’s not worth your while.

 

“Congratulations,” he said. “I can confirm that this is the shortest ever Happy Island story and you are now in the Guinness Book of Records.”

 

Alun was delighted and performed a small dance of celebration, very similar to the one he gave when he found out that John F Kennedy had been resurrected from the dead (Alun can be very naïve and is prone to believe the wildest of online rumours).

 

“But the story hasn’t finished,” I said.

 

“Yes it has Jed, the main plot ended when the man confirmed that we’d beaten the record and were in the Book.”

 

“But that makes no sense chronologically. At the point we were told we’d beaten the record the story hadn’t finished, so we couldn't have beaten the record.”

 

There was a pause while the three men contemplated the wisdom of my words.

 

“He’s right the man said,” Damn, I should have asked his name, this was going to be as quick as I’d hoped. “I can’t present you with the Record for the shortest story until the story has finished, which is AFTER I’ve presented you with the Record.”

 

This was worse than I’d thought, as it meant that it was simply impossible for the story to ever finish. Every readers’ worse nightmare, a never-ending story.

 

The four of us discussed the problem in detail. “Maybe if I announce the award first,” the man suggested.

 

“No, that’s even worse,” I said.

 

“What if we try a different story?” Alun said.

 

“But we're in the middle of this one now, it'll just confuse the readers."

 

We talked all day but failed to reach a solution. The next day I was woken early by Alun and the same two men.

 

“Hello, guess what’s going to happen by the end of this conversation,” the man said, clearly trying a new tactic.

 

“Oh, that’s just silly,” I said. “It doesn’t solve the fundamental problem of chronology. You can’t give us the award until the story has ended, but the story can’t end until you give us the award.”

 

“What if you give the award to us, Jed?” the man said.

 

“But I’m not an official from the Book,” I said. “Plus you’ve not broken any record.”

 

“Hmmm, there is that.” The man paused for thought. “What if we say the whole conversation backwards?”

 

We tried running the scene backwards, but it didn’t solve the chronological problem, in fact it created more. In real life people simply don’t run scenes in reverse order, it just causes confusion.

 

I really should have asked the two officials their names. By the end of the first year it had become ridiculous, I’d see them every morning, we’d spend hours discussing the chronological problem, reached no conclusion, then they’d be back again the next morning to continue the impossible conversation.

 

Twenty years passed and no solution was found. Then, out of the blue, I was woken early one morning by Alun and the two men, who were all in a highly excitable state.

 

“Why on earth are you waking me at this hour?” I asked. “It’s barely six-thirty.”

 

“It’s the Guinness Book of Records, Jed,” Alun said. “We’re going to be in it.”

 

“Are you sure?” I said.

 

“Yes Jed, we’ve set the record for the longest ever Happy Island story.”

 

“Congratulations,” the official said. “I can confirm that at twenty years and one day this has been the longest ever Happy Island story and you are now in the Guinness Book of Records.”

 

Thank goodness, it was finally over. I just wished I’d gotten round to asking the man his name.