Protest Letter to Norman Painting

I propose to send the following letter to Norman Painting by old-fashioned
snail mail. As it is some years since I last wrote to the BBC I don't know
what would be the best address to use. Could somebody oblige? (You don't
have to agree with what I say!)

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Dear Mr Painting,

I qualify as an 'old original' in the sense that I used to listen to The
Archers with my grandmother from its earliest days, heard the Death of Grace
episode, and have listened ever since apart from a few periods, for example
when I lived abroad for a few years. In my opinion the way it is currently
being written and presented could well be its nadir over the whole time it
has been produced. In addition I have never known so much and such severe
criticism amongst fans of the series.

Most Archers listeners would probably object to any suggestion that The
Archers is, or has ever been, a soap opera. I have always preferred the term
'popular drama' to describe its niche. Recently, I'm afraid to say, it can
be called nothing but a soap and the signs are that it is headed for lower
soapdom at that.

My wife and I (she is not an Archers fan) heard the recent interview in
which you discussed the thinking behind the Death of Grace episode. We
agreed that its presentation was appropriate to the circumstances and that
the 'good strong story line' idea is right if it sufficiently rare. In soaps
such high emotional scenes, less well done, occur every five minutes and
that is what is currently happening in The Archers.

I would add that any drama should pass a reality test. One is willing to
suspend disbelief at the outset and admit the most outrageous things to
establish the scene. I will accept, for example, little green Martians, but
they must then behave plausibly like little green Martians - one has to
believe that people (or Martians) really would behave like that.

I hope you do not mind my taking up your time with this, but of course you
are seen as the primary elder statesman of the series.
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--
"A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by,
One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky;
I have thought of all by turns, and yet do lie
Sleepless!" (Wordsworth)







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