Maggie, Maggie, Maggie! Dead, Dead, Dead! (I) History

Now the dust has settled, I thought I'd do a reckoning. This is in two parts, with one on the historiographical issues to follow. The title, by the way, is what they chanted in Brixton on the night. I thought it was funny, though I don't doubt the people were being objectionable. Even A thinks it's all rather distasteful, but I think we can rise above that.

Personally, I have mixed feelings about Thatcher. She's a Tory icon; I'm a Tory etc. But I'm a big wet, old fashioned Tory, firmly on the Heseltine - Clarke axis in the party, the one that doesn't really exist any more (see this mediocre article on the subject). I'm pro-European, pro-state, I even think we should have an industrial policy. She would have purged me from any cabinet she had. Some of her policies leave me cold, some of her legacy even more so. Nonetheless, she was, in her words, one of us. And she did many more of the right things than the wrong things. Better modern historians and politics students will argue the detail better than I can, but below is my personal ledger, why I would happily have voted for her every time, and why I think she was good for us.

Let's do some big wins:

• Unions, clipping the wings thereof. It's now fashionable (in certain circles) to say that this would have happened anyway. I find this annoying and disingenuous. Unions had been the undoing of the previous two governments, possibly three if you count 1969/70. To dismiss it as inevitable is bad history and wishful thinking. The Unions we had through the 1970s were destructive and disastrous. I'm glad we don't have overpowerful trade unions, closed shops and strikes without elections. Well done Maggie.
• Privatisation. When I'm feeling cruel, I like to bait the ignorant left. It's an amusing game. In particular I like to list companies and ask them how many should be renationalised. I could go on for hours, but they usually cave after BA, BP, Jaguar and BT, and this was before I discovered Pickfords was also on that list. There is no doubt that rail hasn't worked (not Thatcher), but overall, it's a rebalancing that was overdue. And no-one here, or in most of the west, would go back.
• Deregulation. Now, I won't have this simplistic, 'sowed the seeds of the crash' nonsense. Regulation is a balancing act. Take finance, over-regulated in 1979, under-regulated in 2008. Thatcher moved in the right direction.
• The Falklands. This was obviously right, and no other candidate for power would have done it.
• The Cold War. We wouldn't be having this debate with the Czechs and the Poles.

What's characterised this debate since her death is the total absence of recognition of the bad ones on our side. Let's do those too:

• Grammar schools. If nothing else, this stands against her. Appalling educational vandalism. A caving in to the teaching profession that damaged educational standards and social mobility and led to greater middle-class segregation at the same time, which is an impressive feat. Not all Thatcher, but she was supine when she should have been steadfast.
• Monetarism. It didn't really work, and even Thatcher et al resiled from it pretty quickly.
• Industrial policy. We should have had one, and we should have used it to help the provinces. Actually there was an industrial policy, in Liverpool thanks to Hezza, and, er, Canary Wharf, but there should have been more. 
• The Gays. I know, I know.

I would have liked her to be different, but I would rather have had her than any other option around (and to govern is to choose). I'm not interested in whether she was a nice person (Lloyd George wasn't). I'm not interested how you think the 1990s should have played out (she wasn't there). I'm not interested what you think she would have done if she had stayed in power longer (she didn't). I'm interested in the record, and, overall, it's a win. 

By the way, I hope this stays up.

Choosing a church (2): The word of God

I listened to parodies of preaching before I actually went to church enough to remember the preaching - to this day, I can't hear about Jacob and Esau without, unbidden, Alan Bennett's pastiche rising to mind (text here, even better if you can find the delivery). This is particularly true because some of the sermons in my parents' church were reminiscent of this approach (still are). Thankfully, where I go now, they're not. 

In fact, I've been fortunate to have a succession of good, and different, preachers at St Michael's. The depth is important because it's exposed me to a variety of tone, which not only reduces the burden on the rector, but also relieves the audience. Elsewhere, things have been mixed. One of my recent local experiments was excellent - he did a short exegesis of the gospel text as his sermon. Others have been considerable less memorable. Some have been terrible, though none have plumbed the depths of St Giles, Camberwell, where some years ago, the priest floated the possibility that the four beasts of the apocalypse of Daniel might be interpreted as modern day figures of evil - "Hitler, Stalin, Mao ... and Thatcher," without a hint of irony. I never went again.

It's obvious why this is important, but here my five point guide to what I want from a sermon, aside from standard public speaking drill - be intelligible, speak, don't read etc:

• Substance. Say something. This is not Thought for the Day. Everyone wants to be here. They know being nice is a good thing. Ditto Jesus loves us. Something more pointed and more material is called for. 
• Scripture. However, this is not an opportunity to regurgitate some thoughts you've been having about contemporary issues based on yesterday's Guardian. Root it in the scripture you've just read. And that's all the scripture, not just the gospel. The other two readings aren't just there for decoration. 
• Focus. Wide ranging sermons lose the congregation, and usually the preacher. Given you get to do this every week, best to stick to one message. It also means you can do it justice.
• Personality. Be careful here, as overpersonal interpretations can simply be a mess, but everything goes better if preachers preach about the things they want to say, rather than things they think they ought to be talking about. Also: if you can't do Greek, don't talk about it. Don't do it badly.
• Brevity. Most importantly, don't go on. I don't have a strict time limit in mind here, but anything longer than ten minutes should be looked at hard. It's probably not worth it.

It's actually not that hard. It's astonishing how many vicars fail.

Bibliography, March 2013

BOTM : G. Orwell, Burmese Days

P. Anderson, The broken sword
C. Dexter, Last bus to Woodstock
N. Ferguson (ed.), Virtual History
I. Fleming, Casino Royale
A. Mahler - Werfel, Diaries 1898 - 1902 
G. Orwell, Down and Out in Paris and London
C. Ricks, Dylan's Visions of Sin
P.G. Wodehouse, Galahad at Blandings
T. Wynette, Stand by your man

I'm  (re)reading Orwell this year. Specifically, all of the full length works - there are nine - in order. It's going pretty well. Nor was it a surprise to me that he tops this month's list. Though I did enjoy Alma Mahler-Groupius-Werfel's diaries, despite buying them as a joke (here for background). Anyway, both Orwells excellent, though in both I had to remind myself forcefully that he wasn't known then, which particularly changes the complexion of Down and Out. Overall though, Burmese Days the better of the two. More substantial, and hugely resonant as well as influential on modern Empire-lit (I kept noticing the foreshadowing of Burgess' Malayan trilogy). Also, a pretty good plot, though I'm not sure about the ending.

Choosing a church (1): No more Peace

We're thinking of moving house to accommodate the child and my expanding bookshelves. As a consequence (of the child) we need to start thinking about schools, and as a consequence of that, I need to think about churches. Specifically, I need to think about churches that have good schools attached. As a result, I've been going to some churches in areas we might move to - this has not proved an entirely happy experience. So I though I'd start to jot down some rough criteria for churches in a series of posts. This one is going to talk about the Peace. For the avoidance of doubt, while I will do a great deal for the child, I will not go to churches whose main liturgical instrument is the guitar, and nor will I regularly attend a service led by someone not in clerical dress and who believes Jesus would like us all to clap more. All of what follows therefore assumes a church that is at lease middle of the road CofE and ideally a little higher. So far, I've avoided accidentally going to churches that spend too much time with tambourines.

Nonetheless, in all of them, bar none (and I realise now my church is guilty of this too), the Peace is excruciatingly awful. I've a number of objections to it, but at heart the issue is that it simply goes on far, far too long. I've not timed it, that's hard to do surreptitiously, but it exceeds my ideal by a significant multiple. The ideal length of time for the Peace, if any time must be allocated at all, it the time it takes to shake hands with your immediate neighbours, of whom there will be no more than six, allowing 4-5 seconds per person (and it doesn't take that long usually), you should have the whole thing done in half a minute. That could easily be shorter. Instead, it goes on and on, people come over from other parts of the church to say hello to friends, priests wander in your direction, especially if they've noticed the new person who looks young. And I try to look the other way, or read the hymnbook. Once, anticipating this grimness, I stood by a noticeboard and read there entire presentation about the local school. The Peace was still going on when I finished.

As well as being excruciatingly embarrassing, I also think it's unsound. There's a nice theological reflection on this here, which I found with a cursory google and broadly agree with. But I most profoundly disagree with it because it cheapen the church community. One of the great glories of the parish church is that is genuinely does forge community out of unlikely ingredients. What has masked the awfulness of the Peace in my church is that I do know most people; and so it's not an unpleasant experience to shake their hands in the middle of the service. Nonetheless it's a false bonhomie, a formalised handshake isn't real engagement, but it looks a bit like it, especially if you remember the other person's name. It's quick. formulaic and shallow. In reality and overlong Peace betrays a lack of community - if we were bound together properly, even a little, you'd do all this over coffee afterwards or even outside the service, not pretend to chat in a messy Peace.. Now real engagement has happened in all the churches I've been too, though not always in a way that pulls newcomers in. In which case, the Peace isn't only painful, it's pointless. Cut it down, or better still, leave out the audience interaction altogether. I'm looking (in vain) for the church that does that.

Bring back Paul III

As the cardinal-electors gather in Rome, doubtless trying to consider the challenges of the modern world, I suggest they should instead be thinking about the past, and the character of the great popes of history. There's a nice looking book on some obvious candidates, though I've not read it and would have a less  modern list. It does, however, include my absolute favourite Pope, Paul III (1534-49). And I think the cardinals would do well to consider his example.

Granted, there are some difficult elements in Paul's biography. It's doubtful he was very devout, as he delayed his ordination well into his church career, which he probably owed to his sister's relationship to the Borgia pope. He had numerous illegitimate children. For whom he carved out careers and titles for them at the expense of the papal patrimony. He made his 14 year old grandson a cardinal. Nor was the external situation he inherited promising. At his accession, the reformation was gaining traction across Germany, England had gone over the divorce, and only seven years before, his staunchest 'ally' had led an army into Italy that sacked Rome itself. 

By the time he died though, the catholic church was back. It took longer than his fifteen year reign to remodel the church, but the foundations were all laid under Paul: the Council of Trent was called, the Curia subject to proper scrutiny, the Jesuits founded, some nice art commissioned, and the work on improving the quality of priests begun. All these were to prove difficult, the latter so much so that Paul IV (1555-59) resorted to condemning errant monks to the galleys. Nonetheless, in 1534, the church chose a politician, a leader, and an administrator rather than a saint or a theologian, and it has many reasons to be thankful it did.

Were I catholic, and a cardinal, I would be looking to find the modern equivalent of Paul III.

Bibliography, February 2013

BOTM: M. Atwood, The Blind Assassin

R. Blake, The Blood of Alexandria
S.C. Gwynne, Empire of the Summer Moon
W. Somerset Maugham, Cakes and Ale
J.R.R. Tolkein, The Silmarillion*
A. Zamoyski, Rites of Peace

It's been a great month for quality, if not quantity. Four of the six books here would have been contenders for BOTM at another time. Gwynne's account of the Commanche was lively and engrossing, though didn't always live up to its own rhetoric. Zamoyski on the Congress of Vienna is a great excavation of a very complex moment in history, which also alerted me to the fact the Kissinger's doctoral thesis was on the same subject. I'm surprised I've never read Maugham before, but Cakes and Ale was brilliant, waspish, and very nicely done, if a little slight. However, all were worse than Atwood's Booker winner. I've not always gotten on with Atwood. I thought the Handmaids Tale clumsy and boring, while I found some of her earlier books unreadable. This is a masterpiece. Despite being very obviously literary in construction - it's a book with a book inside it which itself has a book inside it - it's compelling, magisterially written and still manages a good twist (or two) at the end. A triumph.

The other Presley

When Andover-born Reginald Hall was searching for a stage name, he opted for one that looked very much like delusions of grandeur. He didn't care - and Reg Presley and the Troggs were born. He died yesterday and I've been playing them all morning. In truth, there are only five tracks that have stood the test of time, but what tracks. A world without Wild thing, With a girl like you, Any way that you want me, I can't control myself (all 1966) and Love is all around (1968) would be a much poorer one.

A world without Reg Presley would have been a much poorer one too. Despite his lack of chart success since 1968, he and the Troggs played on for the following four decades - only his final ill health ending it last year. Along the way his songs burst occasionally into public consciousness, Wet Wet Wet's version of Love is all around making him a fortune in the 1990s. He was also a proper eccentric, in a fine English tradition. Obsessed with UFOs, he spent the money he made on researching them, published here. There aren't many people who connect Jimi Hendrix (who also covered Wild Thing) with standing around in wet English fields looking at crop circles. Reg Presley may even be unique in this respect.

In the obituaries, he was called a 'very real person in a sometimes very unreal world.' That's a fine tribute, and a very fine one for a pop star. We should have more people like him, and now we've one fewer. Farewell.