Julian Critchley (1930–2000)

I first became aware of the Conservative MP Julian Critchley about twenty-five years ago when he used regularly to participate in Radio 4's Today programme as one of the 'three wise men'. Alongside Austin Mitchell (Labour MP for Grimsby) and Charles Kennedy (Liberal Democrat member for Ross, Skye and Lochaber) he offered oblique, and often ery amusing, comment on recent political news. The crux of their contribution was that all three of them were firmly fixed on their respective party's back bench, with limited expectation of career progression. This gave them greater scope for scurrilous comment, being unshackled by the tenet of shared responsibility that prevailed for the front bench representatives.

This formation was terminally curtailed by Charles Kennedy's subsequent election as leader of the Liberal Democrat party and Austin Mitchell's brief tenure in a junior ministerial post in Tony Blair's first administration. Critchley himself remained untainted by public office, though he was subsequently knighted for his contribution to public service.

I had enjoyed his volume of memoirs, A Bag of Boiled Sweets, though I had been struck be its strong undercurrent of bitterness. Since his preparatory school days he had been a close friend of Michael (now Lord Heseltine) and seemed almost to resent much of Heseltine's marked success in both politics and business. The book did, however, retain the mischievous humour so prevalent in his radio work with Mitchell and Kennedy. I was, therefore, looking forward to this novel, but found myself woefully disappointed.

The basic plot surrounds the murder within the confines of the Palace of Westminster of Emma Kerr, an up and coming young Tory MP who had traded on her physical attractions to secure precocious advancement within the party. Critchley does give some interesting portrayals of political types, and offers an early critique of the expenses mechanism which would, fifteen years after the novel's publication, cause such devastating difficulty for MPs across the political spectrum. He also includes cameo appearances from some fifty or sixty genuine MPs, which lends a great verisimilitude to the background and plot.

One would think from this that the auguries were all very promising. Sadly Critchley is lamentably deficient when it comes to plot. The novel leaps around with no coherence, and features far too many characters, most of whom blur into an inchoate mass of platitude and cliché. This book could so easily have been very entertaining but actually became rather a burden.… (altro)

Is this book well written? Not particularly. Is it an edge of the seat whodunit? No: so, why is it worth even three stars?

This tome is not really a work of fiction: Julian Critchley has written the biography, that he didn't quite dare to publish as fact. The book contains many real politicians from the early 1990's - none of whom seems to have registered very highly in Critchley's estimation. One really expects any Labour MP that gets a mention to say, "Ee bah gum!" but they are rarely in evidence as the author lambastes his own party members. The real MP's tend to get off relatively lightly; possibly because of the potential liable claims, but Sir Ralph Grunte is pitilessly derided for being the new face of the Conservative Party. In Critchley's view, a nouveau riche, who wouldn't know a Claret from a Sauternes, is the lowest possible form of human existence.

Upper class Tories fare no better, Critchley appears to be jealous of their privileges and his homosexual member is another stereotype. As I write this review, their is a political storm about the possibility that a senior Conservative might have called party workers, "swivel eyed loons": this would appear generous when compared to our author's views of the party's grass-roots. The only person who, even Critchley, might suggest that he has portrayed kindly, is Edwina Currie. I suspect that she may disagree: Critchley is clearly taken with the lady but, it seems that his only justification for women in the House, is that they are easy on the eye and provide a little light relief when engaged in a brief affair, to fill those all night sittings.

The murder and its solution, could have been condensed to a twenty page short story. Working out the culprit was not a difficult task; the author is not going to suggest that any of the real MP's were guilty of a rather bloodthirsty murder: it therefore comes down to deciding which fictional character arouses his greatest contempt.

A poor whodunit, but an interesting insight into a particular kind of political mind. This may be twenty years old but, in my opinion, it would be foolish to think that this superiority has died away in British politics: I would suggest, rather, that it has spread to the erstwhile "Ee bah gums" too.… (altro)

Jaunty memoir of an Epicurean and egotistic Tory, old school but not patrician, refreshingly candid about pursuing his own ambitions ahead of any particular political ends. Writes well, dropping names or spinning out stories with gusto; so plenty of gossip, teasing and clever-dick stuff; no depth. Thus the contempt of the Thatcherite zealots, and thus a record of downs as well as ups. But his bon viveur buoyancy sustains him, and, as Captain Grimes noted in a similar tale, a public school fellow always lands on his feet.… (altro)