Britain

I was so sure I’d be first

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Well, after all, you do not expect Americans to notice that the Second World War began on September 1939 (sort of, if you disregard the real beginning, that is the Nazi-Soviet Pact). After all, it did not hit the United States till December 6, 1941, though there were plenty who had come over to fight with Britain. There is a memorial to the pilots killed in the Battle of Britain in Grosvenor Square, and their names are also listed on the big BoB memorial on the Embankment.

However, here is my posting on Your Freedom and Ours on the start of the war as well as the importance of facing up to the past.

Recent Reading

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Three mini-reviews in this batch:

“Vanity Fair,” William Makepeace Thackery
“The Promised Land,” Mary Antin
“Metropolitan Corridor,” John Stillgoe

I picked up Thackeray’s “Vanity Fair” from the shelf where it had lain unread, lo these many years, and spent two weeks utterly immersed in the world of Becky Sharp and her friends associates victims. I’d never read the book before, but did see a made-for-tv movie based on it several years ago…IIRC, the movie was far more centered around Becky herself, whereas the book develops the other characters to a considerably greater degree.

Very funny (once you get used to the dense writing style) and utterly unsentimental: Thackeray called it “a novel without a hero.” Those looking for escapism by reading about the elegant lifestyles of the English upper classes should definitely look elsewhere: for all others, this book is highly recommended.
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“The Promised Land,” by Mary Antin, is the story of the author’s journey from Polotzk, Russia (a town which was part of the Jewish Pale of Settlement) to Boston, Massachussetts, with her family, in the late 1800s. Antin was a keen observer and a vivid writer–particularly impressive given that she had no exposure to English until she was 13. “The Promised Land” was published in 1912, having been first serialized in the Atlantic Monthly.

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Breaking the Springs

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In 1944, the writer Antoine de Saint-Exupery was flying reconnaissance missions with the Free French forces. He was also working on what would be his last book: the philosophical musings of the fictional ruler of a fictional desert kingdom. St-Ex was killed in action before he got the chance to finalize the manuscript, but it was published as Citadelle in French and under the somewhat unfortunate name Wisdom of the Sands in English.

In one passage, the ruler muses that the criminal who has been sentenced to death may well contain an inward beauty of some form…but goes on to justify his execution:

For by his death I stiffen springs which must not be permitted to relax.

I thought about this passage when I heard about the decision of the Scottish authorities to release the Lockerbie bomber Al Megrahi, who has now received a hero’s welcome in his native Libya.

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What Edmund Burke said

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I am not sure how much of it has made its way across the Pond but there is a bit of palaver going on about the only thing that might interest our so-called representatives in the House of Commons, their remuneration. The trouble with the debate is that nobody can really agree or even understand what it is MPs are supposed to do. We know for certain that they do not do the two things that are definitely part of their job: legislation and holding the government to account. But beyond that it is all a bit muddy.

Here are links to two postings, one on Your Freedom and Ours, in which I discuss (well, rant about) MPs, their claims to more money and their complete lack of responsibility. The other one, on the Conservative History Journal blog, goes back to what Edmund Burke really said to the electors of Bristol when he became their Member of Parliament. It is not quite what many people think.

Does our Prime Minister have nothing else to do?

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It comes to something when the Prime Minister of a country that is in the middle of a serious political, economic and, let’s face it, spiritual crisis can think of nothing better to do with his time than to become involved in a stupid Twitter campaign to persuade Americans that the NHS, well-known for its expense, incompetence and low standards (for a rich Western country) is absolutely wonderful.

Coupled with the most extraordinary hysteria that has once again pushed any notion of a real British debate about healthcare as far away from political discussion as possible, this has not been an edifying spectacle.

I have a rant with more details on Your Freedom and Ours. Enjoy.