Society

Wednesday

24 May 2006

No messing with redheads

The X-Men trilogy has been a superior translation of comic book to big screen (although I wouldn’t bet money on this being truly ‘The Last Stand’; probably more like ‘The Second Last Stand’, given its ambiguous closing shot). Part of its charm has been the willingness of the writers to handle the metaphor of the comics: that the mutants are representatives of society’s minorities and outsiders. Most explicitly, its homosexuals. This instalment presents its subtext more baldly than ever. Its bang-crash storyline, i.e., the one that causes maximum kerfuffle, is intriguing. What the (evil, conservative) government likes to call a ‘cure’ for mutants is discovered in the near-future. Government scientists

Russell Chamberlin

Special relationship | 24 May 2006

In 1990 I published a lengthy article on Sicily — and was astonished by the response from English readers who had connections with the island, in some cases going back 200 years and more. All, with one exception, were nostalgic. The exception was an evidently elderly Englishman who was born in Sicily, but never returned after the war, ‘my frequent clashes with the fascists being a rather unpleasant reminder and cause of my reluctance to revisit the place’. But even his criticism was qualified. ‘I have always been proud of being loosely associated with these past historical events in Sicily.’ All other correspondents looked back as to a golden age,

Jaspistos

Labour pains

In Competition No. 2444 you were invited to offer two stanzas in the metre and rhyme-scheme of Byron’s ‘Don Juan’, making fun of one or more of the Labour party’s present embarrassments. ‘Never,’ said Charles Seaton, my predecessor, when he passed on the sacred baton, ‘give them a political subject. They get too hot under the collar to be funny.’ How wrong he was! Congratulations not only on being amusing but also on handling the challenging ottava rima with verve and skill. Moyra Blyth and Ray Kelley deserve better than to be runners-up. The winners, printed below, get £25 each, and the bonus fiver goes to Noel Petty. For Charles,

Rupert Steiner

A recipe for guaranteed delivery: post a ripe cheese with every letter

The Rosewall affair signifies everything that is wrong with Royal Mail. The two-and-a-half ton Rosewall sculpture by Dame Barbara Hepworth was acquired by the Ministry of Works and the Post Office in 1963 for a new Post Office Pension Fund building in Chesterfield, where it became a landmark — until last October, when it took a trip to the Bonhams saleroom in London. Royal Mail announced that Rosewall was no longer part of its ‘cultural heritage’, which of course had nothing to do with the £620,000 it was expected to raise at auction. But after much protest it was withdrawn from sale and repatriated to Chesterfield, presumably along with a

Dominic Midgley

Is political correctness good for business?

Herbert Smith, a firm of City solicitors, last month announced that it had hired its first ‘inclusivity manager’. There were chortles all round, and the Times ran a short piece about the appointment under the headline ‘Political correctness seems to have broken out at one of London’s top legal firms’. The caravan swiftly moved on, but the recruitment of Carolyn Lee by one of the ‘Magic Circle’ of leading law partnerships is the latest sign that the City is coming to terms with the realities of modern life. While the number of women in the professional workforce has mushroomed in recent years and a tolerance of male chauvinist piggery has

Interconnect

Why bother to save for your baby?

There is a popular book for new parents called What to Expect the First Year by Arlene Eisenberg. In the chapter on what to expect during the third month there is a list of things your baby should be able to do. One of these is ‘pay attention to a raisin or other very small object’. This seems innocuous but it is the exactly the sort of thing that induces panic in a first-time parent. Scores of sleep-deprived novices, keen to make sure their little ones are developing as they should, routinely spend hours trying to persuade reluctant babies to concentrate on raisins when they would much rather be sucking

Ross Clark

The real case against Tesco

Corporate success can generally be measured by the size and strength of the campaign to boycott your business. But until very recently there was a remarkable exception to this rule: Tesco. For a supermarket group which now accounts for a remarkable one in every eight pounds taken by retailers in Britain, opposition has been remarkably light. Where are the student demos, the bricks flying through Tesco windows on May Day? Even tapping into www.boycotttesco.com is something of a disappointment; the site was bought up some time ago by a bunch of American libertarians who object to the way loyalty cards are used to spy on our shopping habits — not

Paul Johnson

The message of a great European cathedral

On 12 May I sat down at a café on the square, ordered coffee and Perrier, and began to sketch the west front of Strasbourg Cathedral. This was presumptuous: the complexity of the facade would have baffled the skill even of Muirhead Bone, who taught my father to draw, and who was the greatest architectural draftsman since Piranesi. Strasbourg is over 2,000 years old. There was a cathedral on the site as early as ad 550, and the present one, of red sandstone from the Vosges, was more than three centuries a-building (1200–1521). The plans for the west front survive, and are in the marvellous cathedral museum, showing that a

Rod Liddle

Profusion of choice makes us unhappy

Has the David Cameron dog sled recently swung by the little Himalayan city of Thimphu, do you suppose? His latest policy — to make us all, in a rather nebulous way, happier — seems to have been taken word for word from the philosophy of King Jigme Singye Wangchuk, the supreme ruler of Bhutan. Bhutan is the only country in the world which has an annually measurable index of Gross National Happiness (GNH), which takes precedence over such arid and abstruse criteria as GDP. The country was the subject of a rather wide-eyed and credulous BBC documentary recently, so perhaps David caught the tail end of that before The Bill

Boris Johnson

Farewell to the Young Ones

Now if you were an average overworked overtaxed Spectator-reading parent of a university student, I think I know how you would feel about this lecturers’ strike. I think you’d be fit to be tied. You would be chomping the carpet and firing off letters to the editor about the Spartist whingers who were prejudicing your daughter’s future. You would be ringing up Radio Five phone-ins after midnight, and raving about how these degrees were life-defining moments, and how unthinkable it was that papers should go unmarked. You would find it incredible that the Labour government has said nothing in defence of the students. Exams are being scrubbed! Vital academic credentials

Christopher Caldwell

Why I love the French

Taking issue with the Americans’ Francophobia Washington DC On the night of the Arsenal-Barcelona match, I was on the train between Manchester and London when something happened that would be inexplicable to my American compatriots. Two English couples, aged about 60, sat across the aisle. They were what Americans would call middle-class, and they were tidily dressed: sweaters and ties for the men, sweaters and necklaces for the women. They were discussing the first Barcelona goal when one of the men loudly broke wind. This is not the part that is outside the American experience. It was rather that the guy followed up with a triumphant burst of laughter. His

Fraser Nelson

The Hinduja file is reopened over lunch in New Delhi

The Hinduja scandal is the closest the Labour party has to radioactive waste. Though officially buried five years ago, it remains lethal: the Indian billionaires had involved so many powerful people in their quest for British passports that the scandal threatened to engulf the whole government. In the event Peter Mandelson was — conveniently for New Labour — the only casualty of the affair. His downfall was so spectacular, and so gleefully received, that little attention was paid to the subtle, sometimes playful clues Sir Anthony Hammond left in his official report of March 2001, pointing those who cared to look towards a much deeper mystery. The former Treasury solicitor

Saturday

20 May 2006

Mary Killen

Dear Mary… | 20 May 2006

Q. We have lived in a very nice, civilised square in south London for nearly 20 years. It’s surprisingly private and everyone gets on well. One of our neighbours is an eminent Liberal Democrat peer of the realm. Unfortunately his wife and he persist in aggressively canvassing and leafleting our neighbours and us, even though they know that I have belonged to the Conservative party since before the Liberal Democrats were even formed. I would never consider canvassing their household and I consider this macho flaunting of their political affiliations to be bad form, and actually rather rude. Can you tell me how I can make this plain to them

James Delingpole

Anything but average

Mike Peyton is the author of the brilliant memoir An Average War — though in truth his war was anything but. In October 1940 he joined his family regiment — 4th battalion, Royal Northumberland Fusiliers — and was overrun and all but wiped out on 6 June 1942 fighting a rearguard action in the Western Desert. He was a POW first in Italy, then Germany, where he witnessed the bombing of Dresden. (‘I thought, “No one but no one should be under that.” Yet another part of me was exulting and saying, “Serves the bastards right.”’) He escaped and spent the last months of his war fighting with the Soviet

Jeremy Clarke

In search of Ted Hughes

Given all the hoo-hah surrounding Prince Charles’s decision to allow a granite stone memorial to be placed in a secret and remote spot on Dartmoor in memory of his friend the poet Ted Hughes, I expected to encounter something along the lines of Cleopatra’s needle when I went to look for it last week. The objections to Ted Hughes’s memorial were many and various. Environ- mentalists were concerned about soil erosion caused by the feet of hordes of literary pilgrims and paint pot-wielding feminists. Levellers complained about the exception being made to the ‘no memorials’ rule applying on Dartmoor. What’s so special about a poet? they said. Why not a

Taki

Tales of the city

Why is it that every time I leave New York I die a little? I know it sounds corny, but I do. I suppose it’s because it was that first great magic city I came upon after the war. The great beaux-arts and art-deco apartment towers looming in the distance, the magisterial Rockefeller Center and, of course, the noble Empire State Building were like modern Greek temples to an 11-year-old, and for some strange reason they’ve remained unspoiled and wondrous to look at to this day. Although the city has continued to alter itself at a rapid pace — gone is the Third Avenue Elevated Train, Schrafft’s restaurants, the Edward

Robin Oakley

Ten To Follow

We all have our rituals. Swans and ducks migrate, the ones that aren’t riddled with H5N1 anyway. We all have our rituals. Swans and ducks migrate, the ones that aren’t riddled with H5N1 anyway. At an appropriate season, starlets and cameramen cluster in Cannes. Canny financiers ‘sell in May and go away’. And invariably at a weekend around the time of the 2,000 Guineas I retreat to my study with a bottle of good malt, the floppy Raceform weekly formbook and Timeform’s latest chunky little bible, this year the Racehorses of 2005 (£70, post free, from Timeform, 25 Timeform House, Halifax, West Yorkshire HX1 1XF), in an attempt to find

Simon Courtauld

Always around

There never seems to be any shortage of pigeons. Whether feeding in a field of corn or rape by day or coming into woodland at dusk, they are always around. Depending on the weather and the time of day, you may have to wait a while for them, but, as William Douglas-Home once wrote in a memorable article for the Field on pigeon-shooting, ‘they always turn up in the end’. They may be shot over decoys in spring and summer or from the shelter of trees on a winter’s afternoon; with no close season there should always be a plentiful supply for the table. These, of course, are wood pigeons.

The Spectator

Letters to the Editor | 20 May 2006

Blair’s cowardly invasion From J.G. Cluff Sir: In your leading article (13 May) you list a litany of Mr Blair’s failures without mentioning the Iraq war. How can you leave out his dismal role in committing the country to that illegal, incompetent, unnecessary and cowardly excursion? I say cowardly because I am so cynical about this meretricious and mendacious politician that I now believe it was precisely because there were no weapons of mass destruction that America and Britain invaded Iraq. There is a sinister symmetry between Hans Blix’s pronouncement and the invasion. Had he established the existence of weapons of mass destruction, I doubt whether Bush and Blair would

The Spectator

Crime and Mr Cameron

Tony Blair said last week that the criminal justice system is ‘still the public service most distant from what reasonable people want’. Tony Blair said last week that the criminal justice system is ‘still the public service most distant from what reasonable people want’. After nine years in office, this was a terrible admission — not least for a Prime Minister who was swept to power on a promise to be ‘tough on crime’. It is not hard to see why ‘reasonable people’ feel so anxious. The murder of Special Constable Nisha Patel-Nasri was all the more shocking because it seemed of a piece with a growing trend towards brutal