The abrupt closure of Alton Towers’ The World of David Walliams, which only opened in 2021, is a considerable blow to its inspiration’s decidedly diminished reputation. It is also a reminder as to how fickle the world of publishing, and children’s publishing in particular, can be.
The World of David Walliams has ended with an abrupt and terminal crash
Five years ago, Walliams was not just the golden goose of HarperCollins, but someone who had single-handedly changed the face of the industry. Thanks to Walliams, and his 60 million worldwide sales, it became not only acceptable but practically de rigueur for celebrities to write, or have ghostwritten for them, books for young readers, and to enjoy the benefits that such success brought them. And now, Walliams’ downfall has come with an even more decisive plunge than the rides that once had his name attached to them.
Visitors to the theme park in Staffordshire will probably get over the loss of Raj’s Bouncy Bottom Burp, Flavio’s Fabulous Fandango and Gangsta Granny: The Ride. And as Alton Towers is closed between November and March every year, there will be plenty of time for the attraction to scrub all mention of Walliams’ name from its doors. He has already been deleted from its website with Stalinist efficiency; you would not know that, until recently, the area, which once rejoiced in the unfortunate name of Cloud Cuckoo Land, had been dedicated to all things Walliams.
It caps off an extraordinarily bad year for the once-beloved writer and comedian, who has entirely disappeared from public view even as the bad news keeps on coming.
HarperCollins announced that not only were they going to stop publishing his books, but, in virtually unprecedented circumstances, would delete his backlist altogether, meaning that once the stock of such books as The Boy In A Dress and Mr Stink is exhausted, Walliams’ diminishing band of admirers will have to haunt charity shops and jumble sales to get their hands on his oeuvre.
Alton Towers have ended what was undoubtedly a lucrative and high-profile association with the star. And while Walliams indignantly denied rumours of inappropriate behaviour, including towards younger women, that emerged last year, his denials have been insufficient to quell the growing sense that organisations that were once only too keen to ally themselves with him are now just as hoping to be shot of the star.
One can make all the usual noises about innocence before guilt being proven and how, for the time being at least, all that Walliams has been accused of is unsavoury, rather than strictly illegal, behaviour. Yet there is something about the way in which institutions such as HarperCollins and Alton Towers have abandoned him (The BBC continue to have Little Britain on their iPlayer service, at the time of writing.) While the theme park might suggest that they regularly assess “elements of our attraction offering”, in somewhat strained language that might have found its way into their former star attraction’s books, it is unusual for something so drastic to occur.
Still, librarians and children’s teachers everywhere might be breathing a sigh of relief at Walliams’s downfall from a purely literary perspective. His books were – let us be frank – dreadful, a miserable hodgepodge of clichés, stereotypes and tasteless humour that read like Roald Dahl post-lobotomy. Their popularity stemmed in large part from name recognition and Walliams’ televisual ubiquity, not least when he was combining his work as a comic actor with his time as a judge on Britain’s Got Talent. Many more talented but far less successful authors justifiably felt aggrieved at the attention and emphasis given to his writing. Now, perhaps, they will get their day in the sun, if their publishers want to invest in proper children’s writers, rather than former A-list celebrities.
What will become of Walliams? He has the financial freedom, thanks to his now-extinguished career, to do what he likes for the rest of his life, and it would be unsurprising to hear that he has left Britain for Dubai or some similarly sunny climes, where he may one day once again delight easily amused expatriates with some of his comic schtick.
Yet as he draws the curtains in whatever mansion he is currently residing in, all too aware that dark rumours about him buzz endlessly on social media, there must be an uncomfortable awareness that The World of David Walliams has ended with an abrupt and terminal crash.
