The sleep of reason

Like Francis Wheen’s other books, this one ends in a deliriously funny index, which is worth the cover price on its own. One entry:

Blair, Tony; claims descent from Abraham; defends secondary picketing; defends teaching of creationism; displays coathangers; emotional guy; explores Third Way; likes chocolate-cake recipe; sneers at market forces; takes mud-bath in Mexico; venerates Princess Diana; worships management gurus.

Or, on the other side of the political spectrum:

Thatcher, Margaret; chooses market-minded Archbishop; economic delusions; enjoys ‘electric baths’; quotes St Francis; quotes St Paul; revives Victorian values; sides with good against evil; supports terrorism; thinks the unthinkable.

Best of all, and something which tells you, as they say, where Wheen is coming from, is an entry for God:

Accepted by Newton; angered by feminists and gays; appoints American coal-owners; approves of laissez-faire economics; arrives in America; asked by Khomeini to cut off foreigners’ hands; believed to have created humans 10,000 years ago; could have made intelligent sponges; doesn’t foresee Princess Diana’s death; helps vacuum-cleaner saleswoman; interested in diets; offers investment advice; praised by Enron chairman; produces first self-help manual.

The enchantingly funny index is to a book, whatever its jocund tone, of considerable seriousness, itself summarising what was never intended to be summarised. It is, basically, about flannel; about habits of thought, like Mr Blair’s insistence on ‘the totality’, which refuse to be summarised in case their absurdity emerges. If you boil down what God, say, is supposed to have done by various people, the insanity is clear. The index, and the book itself, make a serious point: anything worth saying should be susceptible to rational summary. Anything else is deeply suspect.

Mr Wheen’s argument is that, over the last 25 years, the Enlightenment aspiration to rational thought and truth has been replaced by delusion, error and obscurantism.