The idea for the Guinness Book of Records was born during a hunting trip

In this column, nothing is wrong. Each truth, comical or astonishing, is dissected by a nosy and (very) finicky journalist who sees curiosity as a precious flaw.

One beautiful autumn morning, while I was lazily strolling through a bookstore, I was suddenly amazed: ostentatiously placed on a display in front of my all-hearing eyes, was a book entitled Guinness World Records 2025 – 75th anniversary edition . My blood only boiled, of course. Not only because the mention “75th anniversary” hardly rejuvenated me, but also because I noticed that, never, ever, had I wondered about the origin of this glorious manuscript. One word in particular tickled my mind: Guinness. Not that I was a notorious fan of this intoxicating Irish drink, far from it, I was even more of the type to loathe it, neither its taste nor its funereal color having attracted me to this day. No, what unexpectedly intrigued me was the origin: I wondered at what moment in history an illustrious hop brand married an armada of unusual records. Damn, what a strange alliance!

The explanation? We are in the year of our Lord 1951, in the depths of an Irish forest, when Sir Hugh Beaver, director of a Guinness brewery whose success has continued for almost two centuries, indulges in an impetuous game hunting with a few fortunate comrades. Between two gunshots, a debate breaks out and the fellows ardently desire to decide on a burning subject: between the grouse and the golden plover, which bird flies the fastest? Allow me, at this stage of the column, to open a tiny parenthesis to clarify three little things: 1) I do not know at all why I began to write this text in an outdated literary style which absolutely does not bring nothing to the story. 2) The anecdote of the grouse and the plover is perfectly true, although I admit that it may seem like a joke. 3) It goes without saying that I will tell you which of the two flies the fastest, but I really want to keep you in suspense until the last sentence like in a Mary Higgings Clark novel. Back, then, to this hunting trip in the misty Irish forest where Celtic harps resonate (at least, that’s how I imagine it). Discussions are going well, but the debate is going in circles. Once returned to their opulent homes, the hunters are forced to resign themselves: there is no reference work allowing them to comment on the supposed speed of the two birds. Total disappointment. Until Sir Hugh Beaver is suddenly struck by a powerful spiritual explosion: he will create a book which will answer all the questions – however eccentric they may be – of his fellow citizens. A book which will identify authentic answers to eccentric questions. A book full of useless knowledge and records of all kinds, responsible both for instructing and entertaining people… but also – and this is where the idea borders on genius – for establishing itself as an advertising object the most beautiful effect.The first edition appeared in 1955, before being distributed free of charge in pubs where black beer flowed freely. The success is clear: soon, all 81,400 pubs in Ireland and Great Britain will receive copies. Sir Hugh Beaver rejoices, while the editors of the Guinness Book have a blast compiling tons of improbable records. In the latest edition, for example, we come across a New Yorker who managed to break 80 eggs with his head in one minute, a British woman who made the largest electric toothbrush in the world, or a Nigerian who holds the world record for cross-jumping rope jumps on one leg while blindfolded – personally, I bow. Today, the book is translated into 37 languages ​​and continues to sell tens of millions of copies in more than 100 countries, making it the best-selling work behind the Bible and the Koran. All this thanks to a grouse and a golden plover who did not expect such a fate… and who can compete a thousand times if necessary, it will always be the plover who wins in the end, ornithologists are categorical on this point. Thanking you fully for your unwavering attention, I send you a very low bow.