Abdication

Anyone wanting to read further about Edward VIII and Wallace Simpson might consider Abdication by Juliet Nicolson which I heard discussed on Woman's Hour this morning. It is a first novel by an established and published historian which is set in 1936 (the year of the 3 Kings). Nicolson's fictional characters become entwined in real events, notably the affair between the King and Mrs S at a time when there was a news blackout on the subject in the UK. During today's radio interview she said that she wanted her protagonist (19 year old May, a recent arrival from Barbados who has a position as chauffeur to the government Chief Whip) to be "in the room" with Mrs S and the King; having read the Mrs S biography, I am happy to get a view, albeit fictional, on the nature of their relationship. Abdication has received a warm reviews in the press, the Times labelling it as "ideal for the intelligent deckchair". 

That Woman

The book group met at Alison's this week and we enjoyed a lively discussion on Anne Sebba's biography of Wallace Simpson which, we felt, was an especially topical read at the time of the Diamond Jubilee.

Although there were criticisms of some of Anne Sebba's more speculative views about Wallace's health and gender identity, there was no doubting her opinion that Wallace was really all about money, position, jewels and the high life. What's more, we were able to agree with at least one of her conclusions that, as a nation, we owed Mrs S a debt of gratitude for relieving us of a weak, self-centred, immature and petulant monarch. Lucy  observed that it was rather reassuring that there was a consensus amongst the politicians who mattered (except Churchill) that the King really had to go. Certainly, we reflected, his apparent lack internal struggle over his role and his duty must surely have influenced his brother and niece (not to mention the Queen Mother who appeared to have been key to the refusal of the family to rehabilitate the ex-King).

There is a real problem, though, with a biography which is about two people who are really not very attractive characters. None of us liked either of them and we felt that they were both shallow creatures who deserved each other, despite Anne Sebba's theory that Wallis got in too deep and never intended to marry the King.

The book itself suffers a little from having too much detail about extraneous matters (surely an editor should have curbed this tendency). It also is imbalanced as the last 20 years or so of Wallace's life are dealt with in a matter of a few short chapters leaving a number of unexplored themes: why was Maitre Blum so controlling and influential, who did Wallace leave her assets to (we know her jewellery sold for $50 million but nothing is said about her will) and what really was the nature of the relationship between the couple in their later years - they certainly rarely looked happy.

Our next book is a Palestinian story, Mornings in Jenin by Susan Abulhawa. We will meet at my house on Thursday 19th July for the last hurrah before the "free reading" of the summer holidays when, of course, everyone will read Skios by Michael Frayn now that we know that it is a "highbrow beach read". Oh, and for the record, we only spent a fairly short time discussing Fifty Shades of Grey (although the Youtube clip caused riotous laughter).

Lucky Break

Regular readers (goodness, that sounds so presumptuous), will know that I have a bit of a thing for the theatre and have previously blogged about the memoirs of former National Theatre directors, Peter Hall and Richard Eyre. In keeping with this occasional theme, I have just finished Lucky Break by Esther Freud, a tale of a group of students starting off together at an elite London drama school and which follows their progress in life, love, TV, film and theatre over the next decade or so.

Although I found the episodic nature of the narrative rather irritating (too many incomplete half stories) I liked the way in which Freud does not allow the reader to have a favourite amongst her group of characters. We cannot predict who will be the success on stage or screen and who will end up waitressing for life or touring the provinces as a pantomime horse. Will it be gorgeous Charlie, beautiful, long limbed, lean and insecurely obsessed about the occasional spot or loyal, slightly dull and dumpy Nell or perhaps ambitious Dan who aspires to be the Hamlet of his generation who will make it to the big time? Or one of Freud's other sharply drawn characters.

This is not Esther Freud at her best, in my view, but it is an entertaining read punctuated with wry humour which shines a light on the insecurities of life as a young actor and the absurdities of thinking that every missed phone call might be the lucky break.