Something has been niggling me this last couple of weeks. Something not quite remembered, but somehow familiar, if I could just put my finger on it.
I finally remembered a few days ago. In about 1970 I saw a film, Spring and Port Wine, which starred James Mason - good film, in fact - of its time. A gritty domestic comedy set in Bolton (Lancashire, industrial North West of England), written by the excellent Bill Naughton. [It is interesting to recall, in passing, that James Mason was born in Huddersfield, so, even though he was always Rommel really, he did have some credentials for a provincial role.]
Anyway - Mason plays a well-intentioned but domineering father - very heavy - and things come to a bit of a head when his teenage daughter (played by Susan George) turns up her nose one evening at the herring which is served up for her tea. With much preaching about how lucky she is to have a herring at all, and how many people would be delighted to have such a herring, the father decrees that it will be served up again tomorrow, and the next day - there will be no choice. The damned herring will appear daily (presumably) until she eats it.
Any bells ringing? At the time, we all thought the father was a bit pig-headed, but what did we know? Nowadays, this would be regarded as a valid negotiation, apparently. You will be offered the same fish every day until you realise how wrong you have been to refuse it, or until the alternatives become so unbearably awful that you change your mind.
I can't remember how the story line developed - must watch it again - I can't recall if there was a backstop Plan B to cover the possibility that she never ate it. Presumably the father knew he was right, and that right would prevail. Strength and stability.
Must try and get hold of the film - I need to remind myself what happened...