Marriage

Yesterday was a chance for people to remember relatives who died in the 1914-1918 conflict, often the only record of their existence being grainy old portraits from a grandmother’s mantelpiece and a gravestone in France. I have no idea what my grandfather did, although he was old enough to be fighting by the end of the war; he was a journalist too so he probably just sat behind a typewriter encouraging others to fight and making stuff up. I do remember as a child hearing about how my great-uncle, Charles Leaf, had suffered terrible shellshock in the trenches. But I only recently read my grandmother’s memoirs, which were published in

The last Labour government oversaw a major expansion of support for families, with new investment in childcare, tax credits, maternity leave and children’s centres. Despite this investment, the left still struggles to demonstrate its ‘pro-family’ credentials and to affirm its backing for parents and committed family relationships. Too often, this leaves us conceding important political territory, allowing the right to claim it understands families best. In a major new report, The Condition of Britain, IPPR argues that we need to show we back parents who are working hard to raise their children – including unequivocally supporting committed relationships. For most of us, family is what we care about most, the

Husbands and wives across London gathered last night to hear Tim Dowling’s informed advice on How to be a Husband. At last night’s launch of his book of that title, Dowling told Mr S that marriage isn’t dissimilar from flying in a police helicopter – a task he’d confronted earlier in the day. ‘You get on it, you don’t know where it’s going or why you’re in it,’ he started, before pointing out ‘the difference is that you can’t put children in the helicopter and you can’t get out when the person next to you is being sick.’ Industry friends were present, including publisher William Sieghart, columnists Janice Turner and

So the wedding of my little girl to Andy Bancroft Cooke went off without a hitch, a wonderful ceremony in a beautiful Catholic church off Manchester Square, and even the weather played ball and gave us the most perfect spring day imaginable, cloudless and cool. Green Park was at its most glorious as we drank outdoors on the long terrace and lunched in Spencer House, which pulled out all the stops. It’s hard to believe but as I was leaving the church, having performed my duties as father of the bride, a Speccie reader approached me and asked if I had walked her down or had been walked down by

[audioplayer src=”http://traffic.libsyn.com/spectator/TheViewFrom22_1_May_2014_v4.mp3″ title=”Fraser Nelson and Freddy Gray whether Beyoncé is a conservative icon” startat=1050] Listen [/audioplayer]When Time pictured an underwear-clad pop star on its cover, hailing her as one of the world’s most influential people, it looked like a crass sales ploy. But in Beyoncé Knowles-Carter, they had more of a point than they seemed to realise. Time had asked Sheryl Sandberg, the head of Facebook, to praise the singer for joining various do-gooding campaigns — but this is the least of her achievements. Beyoncé’s real potency lies in her status as a poster girl for a new conservative counter-revolution taking place among the young. It may seem, from a

There have been some rocky relationships in the news this year. As well as Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin’s conscious uncoupling, world leaders have also had problems. Vladimir Putin’s divorce has just been finalised, and the newly single Francois Hollande this week welcomed his ex-girlfriend Segolene Royal to the French cabinet. So, first of all some advice from a 1951 Spectator, about how to be happily married. Hugh Lyon, then chairman of the National Marriage Guidance Council, was rather strict: ‘The real trouble about people who want to be happily married is that they don’t start soon enough. It is not just a matter of taking thought before getting engaged,

Another sunny Sunday morning and the phone rings. I pick up the receiver. It’s Frank. I groan inwardly. Frank is a doctor and an old family friend and a great talker. What he has to say is always intelligent and interesting and often funny. He will explain scientific laws or philosophical arguments or biological functions with elaborate care and in the simplest possible terms, so that even a child might understand them. My immune system, for example, is run by soldiers with powers of arrest and internment, constantly on high alert for terrorists. His talk is invariably sprinkled with his favourite Jewish jokes, and bawdy songs, which he breaks into

My gay best friend is cheating on me with another woman. I saw him with her the other day and now I’m prostrate with grief and shock. I don’t think I will ever be able to bring myself to forgive him. Even if he begged me to come back to him, we can never be the way we were. I don’t even know how to tell him I know about the affair. He is carrying on as if he doesn’t know that I have found out. All I keep thinking is: ‘How could he do this to me? How? After everything we have been through? The long discussions about Botox,

A friend of mine, quite a distinguished lawyer, takes the view that marriage ceased to make sense after no-fault divorces came in. What, he says sternly, is the point of a contract when there’s no sanction if you break it? Well, quite. But if no-fault divorce pretty well invalidates marriage after the event, prenups do quite a good job of undermining it beforehand. The point of marriage is that it’s meant to be a lifetime affair – the hint being in the ‘til death do us part’ bit – and the point of prenups is that they make provision for the thing ending before it even gets underway. You’re putting

Is there a more tragic tale being played out in the British press than that of heroic Andy Murray and his doting, wispy girlfriend Kim Sears. He caused a stir earlier this week by suggesting that he would marry the poor darling after this year’s Wimbledon, only to reveal that it was in fact a joke. Ha. This comes after a long string of will he/won’t he headlines, and lots of breathy concern for poor, sweet Kim. There is a solution to Kim’s pain. It’s a bit zesty. It would certainly slog it to those media pundits who see her as a limp fish: She could ask him to marry

Of all the interesting revelations by the French magazine Closer about François Hollande, the most interesting for me is its claim that he owns only one pair of shoes. I don’t think I know anybody with only one pair of shoes. Even my brother John, who at the age of 86 has rather let himself go sartorially-speaking, possesses two pairs. Yet if Closer is to be believed, the President of France has only one pair. The president’s shoes are important because when he arrived from the Elysée Palace on the back of a moped for a visit to his alleged mistress in a nearby apartment, his face was hidden by