There is a literary and cinematic device that usually signals the protagonist has entered a world that may look normal but is in fact slightly off. A clock might start moving backwards; a ball might be thrown in the air and keep rising, disappearing into the sky. The main character in Christopher Nolan’s Inception, for example, moves between reality and complex dream worlds. When he can no longer tell the difference between the two, he uses a small silver spinning top as a reality check. If it loses momentum and stops spinning, he is awake. If it continues to spin, he is asleep, lost in an uncontrollable nightmare.
Since news of No 10’s parties started being leaked to the press, many of us have become that anxious man, desperately waiting for the spinning top to slow down and topple over: for Boris Johnson to resign; for his party to finally boot him out; for some sign that we are not living in a world where the rules no longer apply. Every time speculation about the 54 letters required to trigger a no-confidence vote has intensified, or a senior Tory has broken cover and condemned Johnson, or a report has confirmed partying during lockdown and “failures of leadership”, the spinning top has slowed, as it has seemed certain that not another day could pass with Johnson still in office.
