Society

Thursday

9 Jan 2020

Beethoven wasn’t just history’s greatest composer but also one of its greatest human beings

Ludwig van Beethoven isn’t just my favourite composer: he’s my household god. There’s a bust of him on my mantelpiece. It took ages to find something that did him justice. This one was made in Italy about 100 years ago; it’s painted to look like black marble, his features are modelled on his life mask and it gets his hair right. (This mattered to Beethoven: when August von Kloeber painted him in 1818, the composer ‘expressed delight at the treatment of his hair’.) Above my stereo system there’s a Victorian copy of another portrait of Beethoven; it’s striking but undistinguished. As for the statuette in my bathroom, I should really

Tom Fleming

Why did David Bomberg disappear?

David Bomberg was only 23 when his first solo exhibition opened in July 1914 at the Chenil Gallery in Chelsea. ‘I am searching for an Intenser expression,’ the brash young painter wrote in the introduction to the catalogue. ‘I hate… the Fat Man of the Renaissance.’ As if to advertise his radical intentions, the first work in the exhibition, the strikingly geometric ‘The Mud Bath’, was hung outside the gallery, facing the street. Bomberg was endowed with a self-belief bordering on conceit. Born in 1890, the fifth of 11 children of Polish-Jewish immigrants, he spent his childhood in the overcrowded slums of Birmingham and east London. An educational loan allowed

Luke McShane

chess-110120

‘Every day is different’, people like to say about their jobs. For the world’s best chess players, that’s only partly true. The game will be different, but the day will look much the same, and so will the international hotel room. In fact, professional players love a routine: they keep their energy for the game, not on deciding where to eat. That monastic focus can’t be taken for granted, especially when you’ve already achieved the highest goals. When Vladimir Kramnik, the former world champion who defeated Garry Kasparov in London in 2000, announced his retirement from chess last year, he put it down to a drop in motivation. The results

Dot Wordsworth

What is a ‘tergiversation’?

Last year, someone at US dictionary Merriam-Webster noticed that lots of people were looking up the word tergiversation online. It was because Washington Post columnist George Will had used it in a piece about the US senator Lindsey Graham. ‘During the government shutdown,’ he had written, ‘Graham’s tergiversations — sorry, this is the precise word — have amazed’. It might have been the precise word, but it has two meanings: one is ‘desertion or abandonment of a cause, apostasy’; the other is ‘shifting, shuffling, equivocation, prevarication’. Both are pejorative, taking the idea of turning one’s back on a principle, since the Latin for ‘back’ is tergum. From the context, Mr Wills

Mary Killen

Dear Mary: How can I hang out with smokers at parties without freezing?

Q. As a young woman I tend not to wear that much to social events in the evening, but I find that in London the best conversations — and the best connections — invariably happen outside the party with the smokers. I don’t even smoke myself, but if anyone invites me to join them outside I always take them up on it. The problem is that I become freezing, almost blue with cold, after just a few minutes, yet getting my coat out of the cloakroom each time isn’t going to happen when I want to appear casual. What do you advise, Mary? — M.M., London W11 A. Haven’t you

Toby Young

I’ve found the perfect family film (eventually)

As a member of Bafta, I get sent about 75 ‘screeners’ during the awards season, which is always a treat at the end of the year. I was particularly excited about it this time because of the makeshift home cinema I’ve set up in our playroom. I had fantasies of sitting in there with Caroline and the four kids, munching popcorn as we worked our way through the Bafta hopefuls. However, getting everyone to agree on a film to watch is always tricky in the Young household. On Christmas Eve, my recommendation was a French animated feature called I Lost My Body, which charts the adventures of a hand that’s

Taki

The Middle East for dummies

Gstaad The French have a saying: ‘Il n’y a rien de plus bête que le sourire du gagnant.’ In other words, gloating is for dummies. Hence I won’t be doing it, despite the drubbing handed to the Bercows of this world by so-called common folk. Mind you, at a lunch in a gentlemen’s club in the Bagel on the very day the drubbing was being administered, an Anglo-American friend, Bartle Bull, asked me what I thought would be the outcome: ‘Hung parliament,’ answered the great electoral expert, ruining Bartle’s lunch and driving the rest of the guests to more drink. A month down the road, everything’s hunky-dory, at least

Melissa Kite

How my new pony swept me off my feet – literally

‘This is the one I was thinking of for you,’ said the lady I might feasibly call my mother-in-law, in spirit at least. We were standing in her stable yard in a dingley dell corner of the south of England which is frozen in time. After driving down a winding track between well-tended paddocks, we found her as we always do, dressed in western-style clothing, tending to her animals in her own little world, far from the madding crowd. The builder boyfriend’s long-lost mother is a consummate horsewoman. I say long-lost because she ran away when he was a boy, leaving him with his father who brought him up alone.

Robin Oakley

The battle for the future of Flat racing

The master plan in acquiring our flatcoat retriever puppy Damson was that as folk no longer with full-time jobs we would invest our time in producing a perfectly trained dog. On New Year’s Day the growing gap between intention and reality was acknowledged. Damson is affectionate, fun and beautiful — frequently admired by passing strangers. She is also a thief. We were hosting friends from the sadly deprived country of Italy where they are unable to purchase either chipolata sausages or pork pies, a liberal plateful of which we therefore provided for the lunchtime buffet. ‘No feeding the dog at table — we don’t do that,’ we had warned them

Charles Moore

Why bother joining the Labour party?

Now that there is yet another chance to vote for a leader of the Labour party, if you are prepared to pay £25 next week, lots of my friends, none of them Labour supporters, are joining up. Their idea is to vote for the Corbyn ‘continuity candidate’, who seems to be Rebecca Long Bailey, thus ensuring, they think, continuous Conservative rule. As someone who is not a member of any political party, and is therefore eligible to join Labour, I am thinking of following suit; but something gives me pause. There is a real question whether the extremists in Labour are any worse than the moderates. The Corbynistas are, for

The Spectator

Portrait of the week: Crisis in Iran, fires in Australia and Manchester rapist jailed

Home Dominic Raab, the Foreign Secretary, who had not been told in advance of America’s killing in Iraq of Qassem Soleimani, the leading Iranian military leader, said that America ‘had a right to exercise self-defence’. British troops were put on standby to be sent to the region, and the frigate Montrose and the destroyer Defender sent to the Strait of Hormuz. Boris Johnson, the Prime Minister, returning from holiday in Mustique, said: ‘Given the leading role he has played in actions that have led to the deaths of thousands of innocent civilians and western personnel, we will not lament his death.’ England secured a 189-run victory over South Africa on

Fraser Nelson

Judge Boris by what he does, not how he does it

The night before our last issue went to press, I received a message from the Prime Minister saying that he was sorry, that he had hoped to write the diary but couldn’t find time. No problem, I replied, he’d just seen off Jeremy Corbyn and had a Queen’s Speech to agree and deliver and our print deadline was 10.30 a.m. At 7 a.m. the next morning, I woke up to find a new message ‘Have done diary. Am finishing now.’ At 10.20 a.m.: ‘It’s done. 860 words.’ Then another message: ‘Still in car.’ At 10.28 a.m., with two minutes to go, I gave up hope. Then, at 10.29 a.m., it landed, word-perfect. Boris Johnson likes to take things close

The Spectator

A big Tory majority. So where are the Conservative policies?

What is the point of a Conservative majority? The answer might once have been to implement Conservative policies. But now it’s not so clear. Budgets are normally the way to judge a government, but we didn’t have one last year. On 11 March, we will learn how Sajid Javid intends to govern the public finances and just how far the Tory government is able to take advantage of the unprecedented political opportunity. It will become clear whether the government sees this moment as a time for boldness, or caution. Leaving the European Union is a radical act, but its effect is mainly political. It will remove a constraint, but will

Peter Jones

What difference will ‘weirdos and misfits’ make to the civil service?

Dominic Cummings has written a modest blog inviting mathematicians, physicists, AI specialists and other experts to help him revolutionise the civil service with new standards of accurate, precision planning. Before he does so, perhaps he might reflect a little on the Ancient History side of the degree he studied at Oxford and the need for such precision. Without any similar technology, but from experience alone, the Romans re-organised and raised tax revenues to run, for more than 500 years, a rather successful empire of 60 million people across most of Europe, north Africa and the near East. They covered it with infrastructure — 56,000 miles of roads, hundreds of harbours

Luke McShane

no. 586

Carlsen–Nakamura, December 2019. In the decisive playoff game, Carlsen played 1 Nxf7+ and won quickly. But there was a mate in 3 available. What is the first move? Answers should be sent to ‘Chess’ at The Spectator by Tuesday 14 January or via email to victoria@spectator.co.uk. There is a prize of £20 for the first correct answer out of a hat. Please include a postal address and allow six weeks for prize delivery. Last week’s solution 1…Qd5! (idea Qxg2#) 2 Qxd5 Rxf1+ 3 Kh2 Nxd5 4 Bxd5 d3 wins. Last week’s winner Philip Markham, Lansdown, Glos

Susanna Gross

Bridge | 09 January 2020

The new year is a daunting prospect in terms of the sheer amount of bridge taking place. Rather like buses, all the England trials seem to be coming at once: the European open, women’s and mixed, the Lady Milne, the various Olympiad trials… my head’s swimming just thinking about it. Unlike most of the hardcore players I know, I’m only entering three, but each with a different partner. The endless discussions needed to agree on system and style are rather like starting a new relationship every time. How much easier it would be to have just one partner, or indeed to play rubber bridge where almost no conventions are allowed.

Pabulum

2439: More nuts

‘10/17’ give the first three words of a statement (in ODQ) made by a famous 48/21. His works include 1A/23D (four words in total) and The 44. His forename is the remaining unclued light; the puzzle’s title suggests his surname. The fourth word (hyphened) of the statement will appear diagonally in the grid and must be shaded. Elsewhere, ignore an accent. Across 8 Reckless prince linked with hot spots (4) 11 A big bell? It’s tiny (4) 13 Mayday rowdy raucousness Senegal banned (9, two words) 14 Women urge on Dickensian villain (4) 16 Start backing Ulster banking system (6) 19 Men disturbing parrot in broken country (5) 20

Jeremy Clarke

The death of my desert-island fantasy

I was on the back seat of a golf buggy being driven down to the marina from my beachside villa through grossly exotic tropical gardens. From the many seaside and sporting activities the resort had to offer, I had opted this morning for the ‘island adventure’. I would be whisked away by speedboat and deposited on a desert island to snorkel or relax, then picked up again two hours later. Driving the buggy was a tanned, virile-looking young man with short hair. Smoking wasn’t allowed on the island, and I was dying for a fag. Sticking to my theory that people with short hair must always be told the truth,

Charles Lawley

My despair at those who weep for Quassem Soleimani

A few hours into the new year, pro-Assad forces targeted a school in southern Idlib with a cluster bomb. The bombing took place at 11am when it was clear the school would have been busy. Five children were killed. Two of those who died were just six years old; the oldest child victim was only thirteen. Four adults were also killed. I will forever be haunted by the faces of Yahya and Hour, the innocent six-year-olds who were amongst the child victims who attended – and died at – the school run by the organisation I work for. This isn’t the first time one of our schools has been destroyed. In fact, six

Dea Birkett

The faded charm of the Isle of Wight

I was worried my first trip to the Isle of Wight might be too late. These days, a holiday island would surely be no more than fanciful tearooms with hardening scones and flashing arcades. But alighting from the ferry at Ryde, I not only stepped into another place, but another time. It may not be fanciful or flashy, but the Isle of Wight has a faded charm, in the white-painted hotel fronts along the esplanade, the over-manicured patches of public gardens, and a pier without any fruit machines, but with a railway running all the way along it. I travelled around this 1950s throwback in a futuristic fashion — by