Society

BOOKS: Lady Chatterley’s Lover – 50 Years On

  This week sees Penguin publish a 50th anniversary edition of D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Trussed up in striped orange livery, with a central image that’s a somewhat raunchy pun on the original, this classic is being re-released with new bonus material from Geoffrey Robertson QC and Steve Hare. The Lady Chatterley Trial is one of the most infamous trials in literary history and perhaps it is apt to mark its 50-year anniversary with a new edition of the novel, complete with added bumpf about the court case. When, in 1960, the Crown levelled the charge of obscenity against Penguin for wanting to publish an unedited version of Lady

Letters | 6 November 2010

House style Sir: How quaint that Simon Jenkins writes ‘working class’ without irony (‘Who do you Trust?’, 30 October). He must be among the very last to do so. But then he is chairman of that stultified repository of selective memory, the National Trust. I wonder why he thinks ‘working class’ means stupid. Jenkins, of course, struggles under the terrible burden of always being right. But let’s see if a little astute correction might deflate the bubble of embracing self-love he so very complacently inhabits. Any event-organiser knows that free drinks (and possibly live sex plus public executions) will get the attendance numbers up. It’s easy. But there are higher

Barometer | 6 November 2010

Secret history John Sawers, head of MI6, defended the organisation by saying ‘secrecy is not a dirty word’. Secret history John Sawers, head of MI6, defended the organisation by saying ‘secrecy is not a dirty word’. Here are a few things which the organisation does not attempt to keep secret: — MI6 still does not officially exist. It was once known by that name but is now called the Secret Intelligence Service (SIS) in government circles. — There were once 17 ‘MIs’. The original MI6 dealt with legal and financial affairs. It spent much of the first world war housed in a single flat in Whitehall Court. — MI6 and

Mind your language | 6 November 2010

‘I can’t abide stigmata,’ said my husband, not through aversion to St Francis of Assisi, but by way of joining in this week’s craze, provoked by the BBC, of nominating a pet hatred among pronunciations. ‘I can’t abide stigmata,’ said my husband, not through aversion to St Francis of Assisi, but by way of joining in this week’s craze, provoked by the BBC, of nominating a pet hatred among pronunciations. My husband hates stigmata with the second syllable stressed, as in tomato. It’s STIGm’ta for him, just as stomata is STOm’ta and anathemata (like David Jones’s) is ana-THEE-mata. As for anathema maranatha, a phrase from the First Epistle to the

Ancient and modern | 6 November 2010

Livy was recently invoked here to rally the top 15 per cent of earners to a bit of wholesome belt-tightening. Not that Livy had anything against the filthy rich. Far from it. But he did expect them to use their wealth wisely — no showing off, no power-grabbing — and if the state did interfere with it, he expected there to be an acceptable quid pro quo. According to tradition, Servius Tullius (the sixth king of Rome, 578–534 bc) divided the Roman people up into classes (same word as ours) by property. One of its purposes was to rank your ability to serve in the army. The top classis was the equestres, rich

Charles Moore

The Spectator’s Notes | 6 November 2010

Quite possibly the government is right. Perhaps it is impossible to win a case against the ruling of the European Court of Human Rights that prisoners must be given the vote. Perhaps it was impossible last week to prevent an increase in the EU budget. Perhaps one can never get what one wants from the European institutions. But if so, isn’t it — I speak in the mild tone of one schooled not to ‘bang on about Europe’ — a bit of a problem? Television reports of the service of blessing for a tourist couple in the Maldives, which was actually, unknown to the couple, a stream of insults, deliberately

Real life | 6 November 2010

Two years ago I had a spiritual experience while being pummelled by an Indian guru called Dipu. I was staying at a spa hotel in Porto Cervo where they had invited one of the world’s leading Ayurvedic practitioners to set up shop as a guest therapist. Being spa-sceptic (I was with a boyfriend who was a devotee of pampering) and only wanting to lie by the pool and read, I dodged the hotel manager’s entreaties to try Dipu, until finally I got so sick of being told I was missing out that I agreed to give him a whirl. I entered the darkened treatment room wrapped in a bath robe

Low life | 6 November 2010

We met outside Tate Modern. The location was convenient for us both and held shared fond memories of aimless Sunday afternoon strolls along the South Bank. She brought along her new baby, a happy, sociable little soul, and we sat under the west wall of the old power station for over an hour and had so much to say we kept interrupting each other. We were better friends, it seemed to me, thinking about it afterwards, than when we were ‘together’. We had no plans to go inside the Tate and look at the art. But the concrete ramp leading down to the Turbine Hall entrance was only ten yards

High life | 6 November 2010

I began thinking about this column one week before I noticed that Craig Brown had pinched it. Actually written what I meant to write one week before I decided to write it, which I guess cannot be called plagiarism just because I had thought of it first. (If I had, that is.) It’s about the man who wrote Downton Abbey, the greatest and most popular soap opera since Upstairs Downstairs. It was during a von Bülow lunch in a St James’s club which is also mine, and I was seated next to a plump, bald man who smiled brightly and introduced himself as Julian Fellowes. ‘My wife is lady-in-waiting to

Toby Young

Status Anxiety: Trots ain’t what they used to be

I’m thinking of starting a political campaign. The idea is to draw attention to the rapid decline of one of the most treasured groups in British public life. Once a vital force in the Labour movement, they are now the political equivalent of an endangered species. The campaign will be called ‘Save Our Trots’. Take the efforts of my local NUT rep, Nick Grant, to whip up opposition to the West London Free School. Grant makes no bones about being a Trotskyist — he’s out and proud, as it were — and therein lies the problem. Because everyone knows he’s a member of the Socialist Workers Party, few locals take

Fraser Nelson

Diversity is the name of the game: different pupils have different needs

The Times has a spread on free schools (p20-p21) today (£), focusing on the model of Kunskapskolan, one of the largest Swedish chains, who are setting up shop in Britain. “Pupils set their own homework, decide their timetables, set themselves targets and work at their own speed – oh, and they clock off at 2pm,” says Greg Hurst, the paper’s education editor. He visits one of their schools in Twickenham. “At the heart of the personalised learning”, he says, lies a “one-on-one tutorial with a teacher for 15 minutes to review progress, weekly and long-term targets and timetables to meet them.” A pupil, Lisa, is quoted saying: “You talk to

The Coulson saga rumbles on

Andy Coulson had a chat and a Bath Oliver with the Met recently. Rejoice! The News of the World phone tapping story continues. The allegations against Coulson do the government no favours. But, even if, in a hypothetical drama, Coulson were to be charged I doubt many would care. I don’t deny the seriousness of the offences already committed by employees of News International, but it’s a very tiresome story and saturation point has been reached. So the usual suspects make little impact when they call for Coulson to resign, fall on his sword, take the rap or whatever cliché they happen to adopt. Coulson needn’t resign because there is

Waiting for welfare reform

After a summer of sporadic announcements, IDS’ welfare reforms will be published in a white paper next week. As in 1997, when Tony Blair urged Frank Field to think the unthinkable, there is consensus on the need for radical welfare change. IDS has earned respect as a moral and pragmatic reformer, and he attracts goodwill from across the House. The Liberal Democrats, Nick Clegg and Steve Webb particularly, were ‘vital’ in securing a spending concession from George Osborne, whilst Douglas Alexander has described IDS’ plans and ‘noble’ and pledges to support principle that welfare should be a safety net, not a vocation. He warms to the theme in today’s Guardian.

Rory Sutherland

The Wiki Man: Web building

After the womenfolk in the household have gone to bed, I like to spend a minute trawling a few porn sites. In my case it may be either www.privateislandsonline.com (the estate agency most beloved of James Bond villains) or more commonly www.savewright.org, with its section ‘Wright on the Market’ listing all the properties currently on sale that were designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. It is a senseless dream, of course. There are no Wright buildings outside the US (bar a handful in Tokyo) and those on sale are usually either a) priced at $4 million, b) in need of ruinously expensive restoration, or c) located seven hours’ drive from Des Moines. I

Competition | 6 November 2010

In Competition No. 2671 you were invited to submit a poem in which the rhymed ending of each line is a truncated word. This challenge invites you to follow in the footsteps of that master of light verse and lover of word-play Harry Graham, who, in his poem ‘Poetical Economy’, ‘found a simple plan/ Which makes the lamest lyric scan!’: When I’ve a syllable de trop, I cut it off, without apol.: This verbal sacrifice, I know, May irritate the schol.; But all must praise my dev’lish cunn. Who realise that Time is Mon. Honourable mentions to Jane Dards, Mae Scanlan, Paul Griffin and D.A. Prince, who were unlucky losers.

Wild life | 6 November 2010

Laikipia I have a mob of finished Boran steers ready for the holidays. The butchers are suddenly chasing me and that’s a fine feeling. A year ago, we were in the worst drought for 50 years, with invasions of armed herders and 2,000 cattle. We were left with not a blade of grass. Our cattle were heartbreaking to see. Since then we’ve had rain every month. The animals have grown fat on rippling seas of red oat pasture. Now I must sell up, or I shall be penniless at Christmas. Or the Samburu will go mad with the temptation, rustle them and scoff the lot in the forest. The butchers

It can’t hurt to ask

A familiar story was played out in Brussels last week. A British prime minister entered the conference chamber vowing he would not give one inch to the European Union. He emerged a few hours later having given way but nonetheless declaring a ‘spectacular’ victory. It was John Major and Maastricht, Tony Blair and his ‘red lines’, all over again. How quickly David Cameron has settled into the role expected of him by Brussels. To pretend that he is happy to be giving away an additional £450 million a year to the EU. To sound the bugle of triumph, no matter what the outcome. To his credit, Mr Cameron did not

Lloyd Evans

The Spectator defence debate

Just a few hours after the publication of the strategic defence and security review, two crack teams of speakers clashed over the future of the armed forces at a Spectator debate sponsored by Brewin Dolphin. The novelist and military historian Brigadier Allan Mallinson proposed the motion — ‘The army, navy and air force are so 20th-century. Scrap them and have a massive British Marine Corps’ — with a heavy heart. ‘I love the armed forces,’ he said. ‘I watch the “Battle of Britain” with tears in my eyes.’ But the trinitarian approach had failed. He imagined a new combined force under the command of an army general. As Admiral Jackie