How I Killed Margaret Thatcher

by Anthony Cartwright

A novel that captures the intensity of early 1980s politics and family life through the eyes of an unusual boy It is 1979 and Sean Bull is nine years old. He lives in Dudley, on the shores of a metal sea, where his dad and grandad come home each night from the steel factories. In an idyllic childhood Sean runs around with his friends, dreams of playing football and cricket for England, and enjoys his holidays at the caravan in Wales. When Margaret Thatcher becomes Prime Minister, she slowly begins to take away everything he loves—somebody has to stop her. His Uncle Billy wants there to be a revolution, but that isn't going to start on its own, not with the Prime Minister fighting wars in South America and being voted for in bigger and bigger numbers, and not while she's guarded by her own secret army, the SAS. Sean comes to realize there is only one option open to him—he must kill Margaret Thatcher. This novel offers English twist on that most Latin American of genres, the dictator novel.

Genres: Fiction, Historical, British Literature

247 pages, Paperback

First published August 1, 2012

Reviews

[Gianni · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ho l’impressione che la letteratura working class racconti, di fondo, soprattutto la sconfitta della classe lavoratrice e della breve epoca di conquista dei diritti: la dispersione della sapienza operaia, lo sgretolamento della solidarietà di classe, la creazione di un esercito di riserva costituito da una grande massa di disoccupati e la precarizzazione, non solo dei rapporti di lavoro, ma anche delle vite individuali e delle relazioni sociali. La ricetta ultra-liberista ispirata dai Chicago boys e imposta, ad esempio, con la violenza fisica nel Cile all’indomani del golpe, o con una violenza più sottile in paesi di tradizione democratica come gli Stati Uniti dell’epoca reaganiana o il Regno Unito tatcheriano, è l’emblema di un radicale cambiamento che ha spazzato via la partecipazione delle masse sostituendola con l’individualismo, con i valori della classe borghese che detiene il potere e che diventano i valori anche della working class, come spiega in modo disarmante Cynthia Cruz in Melanconia di classe: Manifesto per la working class : ”poiché ogni aspetto della cultura e della società è espressione della borghesia, fin da piccoli iniziamo a introiettare e assimilare in modo inconscio i suoi valori e desideri. Allo stesso tempo, poiché il concetto di classe sociale è stato rimosso dal discorso, non abbiamo più le coordinate per definire ciò che perdiamo in quel processo.” Non c’è scampo: chi cede diventa alienato, chi in qualche modo oppone resistenza, diventa emarginato e residuale.
La delocalizzazione produttiva, la de-industrializzazione e le dismissioni (vedi La dismissione di Ermanno Rea, sulla dismissione dell’impianto dell’ILVA di Bagnoli, iniziata in quel periodo e conclusasi all’inizio degli anni novanta) a favore di una finanziarizzazione dell’economia, non solo hanno spinto alla povertà i ceti popolari, ma hanno anche cancellato l’intera impalcatura del lavoro, quello garantito e dignitosamente retribuito, con tutto il corredo di diritti sociali conquistati: un servizio sanitario nazionale, l’accesso universale all’istruzione, la casa.
Cartwright racconta questa fase, iniziata con l’ascesa al potere di Margaret Thatcher, votata anche dai ceti popolari, e la ricaduta delle politiche economiche varate con il suo governo; niente sarà mai più come prima, ”Ci vogliono una trentina d’anni, credo, per riuscire a distruggere qualcosa completamente. Una comunità, una società, come vuoi chiamarle. Le cose ci mettono tanto per morire. È quello che hanno pianificato, se davvero avevano un piano. Dopo il primo shock, tenere la pressione costante. Svendere tutto quel che si può vendere, fino all’ultimo pezzetto. Rimanere in uno stato di crisi permanente. Mettere il mondo alla rovescia. Rubare a quelli che hai reso poveri, per dare ai ricchi. E avanti così, incessantemente. Una rivoluzione permanente, in fondo.”.
La narrazione si snoda attraverso il racconto del protagonista che si alterna tra il ricordo da adulto e la storia vissuta da bambino; ogni capitolo si apre con un passo di un articolo di giornale o di un’intervista o di un discorso della Thatcher; ne risulta un racconto toccante e dignitoso.

[Phillip Edwards · Rating 3 out of 5]

I didn't watch her funeral. I don't read newspapers. And, until her recent demise, I had forgotten all about the Heart-of-Iron-Lady and how miserable it felt growing up in a country being brutally divided by a woman whose first concern was always "is he one of us?" On the day of her funeral, the current, pitiful excuse for a Prime Minister, claimed we were all Thatcherites now. No, Dave. Some of us could never be 'one of us' - we were always just 'one of them'.

It's 1979. Sean Bull is nine years old (four years younger than I was at the time). He lives in Dudley, in the West Midlands (a key electoral battleground at the time), and his dad has voted for the Tories. "The country's got to change" he says. "Things can change for the worse, yer know, as well as the better" is his wife's reply.

She's a wise one, Sean's mother. I don't know her name. I don't think it is mentioned in the book. That's one of the things wrong with the world: the women who have to pick up the pieces, try to keep their families together through adversity - the backbone of a nation - are left behind in anonymity while the Thatchers of this world have millions of words written about them. "To keep wanting more's no good," Mrs B tells her husband, "it just goes on and on." A very different world-view to Mrs T, whose words are quoted between chapters. ("Oh, but you know, you do not achieve anything without trouble, ever.")

Here, in what would otherwise be just another run-of-the-mill, growing-up-in-middle-England-in-the-late-70s/early-80s novel (like Black Swan Green, The Rotters' Club and, of course, Adrian Mole) Anthony Cartwright vividly and accurately chronicles what it felt like to be on the wrong end of the Thatcher 'miracle'. Here are some of the things Sean says about her:

"She must really hate us, I think. You can see if you watch her on telly or even if you hear her voice coming outof the radio that we make her angry. At least, someone makes her angry. Even when she said that Saint Francis stuff, it was like she was telling everyone off."

"From then on she was always there, a picture on the television hundreds of times over; sometimes only her voice, nagging away across the allotments and gardens and factories; the meanness of it, her voice, working away at you like rust."

The anger echoes The Grapes of Wrath:

"It was like a plague had come. It was what you'd do, I suppose, if you had a plan, if you set out to destroy a place: close the big works first, one by one, create waves that spread out from their closing, factory after factory, shop after shop; later on the brewery, the rail yard, passenger trains had long since finished, even the football ground, the cricket ground, which both slid into the old limestone workings. Johnny was right about the hill being hollow, a whole town was disappearing, caving in.
If you had a plan, you'd tell people they're no good, finished, if they haven't got a job, right after you've taken theirs from them; tell them they're no good if they don't own their house and then try to sell their house back to them; tell them that all that really matters are houses and cars and money, as theirs begin to slip away from them.
You'd set people against each other, some of them will applaud what you are doing, some of them will want their thirty pieces of silver or pay you yours, depending on who the betrayer is - it's not always clear, after all. Some people will do very well, and that's what you'd understand and exploit."

"Thirty years or more is what you need, I think, if you really want to destroy something; community, society, whatever you want to call it. It takes a long time for things to die.
It's what you planned for, if there was a plan.After the first shocks, keep the pressure up. Sell off what you can, every last scrap. Maintain this permanent crisis; turn the world upside-down. You rob from the poor you've made and give to the rich. And you keep going, unrelenting. The revolution is permanent, after all."

"They loved rubbing our noses in the dirt."

Anthony Cartwright was not chosen by Granta for their recent list of the twenty best British novelists under forty. Zadie Smith, who was, said that this novel "shines a light brightly for regional fiction" - a comment which sounds a tad snobbish to me, implying 'regional' fiction to be inferior to 'metropolitan' fiction. The ambiguity may have been unintentional but, like the Granta editor's reference to Leeds as being "completely out of the literary world", revealing.

[Elena Del Col · Rating 5 out of 5]

Grazie @ari per averlo proposto al club del libro ❤️‍🩹

[Drew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent look into how Thatcher and her policies destroyed lives, as seen through the eyes of a boy growing up during her reign.

[Simona Moschini · Rating 2 out of 5]

Mai ammirato la Thatcher. Dovrei quindi apprezzare il Bildungsroman di un adulto che, a corrente alternata, racconta l'impoverimento e la depressione collettiva di una zona deindustrializzata a causa delle politiche thatcheriane.
Non ci riesco però: se commuovono i passaggi del bambino confuso e incazzato ("She must really hate us, I think. You can see if you watch her on telly or even if you hear her voice coming out of the radio that we make her angry. At least, someone makes her angry. Even when she said that Saint Francis stuff, it was like she was telling everyone off.") è incomprensibile che, una ventina d'anni dopo, e dopo aver nel frattempo divorato biblioteche intere, Sean adulto pensi ancora che la prima ministra a cui voleva sparare abbia fatto tutto per semplice cattiveria. E che la maggioranza l'abbia votata e rivotata "perché sperano di guadagnarci qualcosa".
C'erano delle motivazioni economiche. Delle previsioni economiche. Delle scelte economiche. Che poi gli elettori non agiscano quasi mai razionalmente è acclarato, che la Thatcher personalmente fosse odiosa non lo metto in dubbio, ma le sue scelte - pessime, ottime o altro che fossero - sono state accettate, votate e condivise dagli inglesi.

"Quand'ero bambino, parlavo da bambino, pensavo da bambino, ragionavo da bambino. Ma, divenuto uomo, ciò che era da bambino l'ho abbandonato." (San Paolo)

[Robert Ronsson · Rating 4 out of 5]

A timely reminder of what it was like to live during Margaret Thatcher's time as Prime Minister if you had the misfortune to be born into the working class in the Midlands or North of Britain, particularly if your family had jobs in manufacturing.
The narrator is Sean and his parents were exactly the aspirational working class people whom the Tories targeted in 1979. Many voted for Margaret Thatcher's Conservative Party and regretted it when the industries they worked in (principally steel manufacturing and fabrication and mining) were systematically dismantled. Thatcher's regime destroyed communities and triggered many individual miseries as chronicled angrily by Anthony Cartwright in this novel.
I live in the West Midlands on the edge of the Black Country where this is set and struggled initially to make sense of Cartwright's phonetic approach to the local argot. Once I became familiar with it, Sean's story worked well as a microcosm of the national tragedy.
The only slight issue I had with the book was the use of italics for the sections of the story told by the young Sean. I suppose that the idea was to give the impression that these were contemporaneous notes rather than recollections. I'm not sure it was necessary to make this distinction. (Some readers of my novel Out of Such Darkness criticised me for a similar transgression so I don't see why he should get away with it!)

[Joy Lamb · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another excellent book by Anthony Cartwright

[Joanne Sheppard · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sean Bull, nine years old at the start of Anthony Cartwright's Black Country-set novel How I Killed Margaret Thatcher, spends his childhood haunted, figuratively at least, by Thatcher. The novel begins with his beloved grandfather punching his Uncle Eric for voting for her; fortunately he doesn't know Sean's dad secretly cast his ballot for the Tories too. At first, Thatcher appears to Sean almost as a pantomime villain, her hard eyes and mean voice rarely off the television, but gradually, Thatcherism begins to have a real and tragic impact on Sean's family life. His male role models rendered jobless and emasculated by the closure of the local steelworks, his mother driven to drink as the mortgage goes unpaid, Sean sees Thatcher as an increasingly malevolent force. And after a horribly traumatic experience in his early teens, and knowing that there is a old wartime gun hidden in his grandfather's shed, he realises that he might just have just have the means to stop her.

The novel is narrated entirely by Sean, but Cartwright has him tell the story from both his childhood and adult perspectives, giving us the benefit of that strange mix of uncertain confusion and sharp clarity that tends to come with childhood as well as an adult's hindsight. It's hard not to like the younger Sean. He's a bright boy, interested in everything that goes on around him, full of questions and fond of the library, yet at the same time, satisfied with relatively modest comforts: when asked to draw his fantasy ideal home for school, he simply draws his grandparents' council house in Dudley and adds a football pitch. Far from being praised for what struck me as an endearing and admirable lack of greed, he's marked down for having low aspirations.

It's probably fair to say that some of the supporting characters in How I Killed Margaret Thatcher are largely there to represent facets of political opinion or social types. Uncle Johnny, who has left art college under pressure to bring in a wage, is a radical revolutionary socialist with a poster of Bobby Sands; Sean's grandad, on the other hand, is a conventional Labour traditionalist and the two regularly come to (figurative) blows over their conflicting views. Sean's father, who works all hours he can to afford to own his own home, is a disillusioned former Labour voter to whom Thatcher's doctrine of self-improvement and ambition appeals. This doesn't however, make the characters unconvincing - far from it, in fact. They are well-realised and three-dimensional, and it's remarkably easy to empathise with them, to understand them, to care about them.

The politics of Anthony Cartwright's novel aren't subtle, but then, neither was Thatcherism. I found Sean's childhood experience of feeling that Margaret Thatcher genuinely and personally hated `us' is convincing and realistic. Before accusations of 'Well, you would say that, wouldn't you' are tossed at me, I'd like to think that even an ardent Tory would at least be able to read this book and come to understand why Sean feels the way he does, even without agreeing with him. Against the political backdrop, a domestic drama is played out as Sean's family's lives, fortunes and relationships change and a close-knit community crumbles. Sometimes funny, sometimes almost unbearably heartbreaking, it's this that gives the novel its real heart.

A fuller version of this review can be found at http://www.joanne-sheppard.com/2012/1...

[Sibyl · Rating 3 out of 5]

Although this author's heart is in the right (or Left) place, this novel was a disappointing successor to the wonderful 'Heartland'

It might be that the problem is with the protagonist. Sean, who is only nine at the outset of the novel. Although the book's title provides a thumping clue as to what he attempts in the final few pages, for most of the narrative Sean is simply a passive witness to the break-up of his parents' marriage - and of a once-thriving industrial community.

It's interesting to read this book in a period where, once again, there is a Government assault on communal values. But I think though Anthony Cartwright is an angry, compassionate author, he - like Sean? - is too unambiguous a writer to be able to show us why Margaret Thatcher was so popular during her first two terms in power. The only Thatcherite in these pages is Sean's father Francis, whose ambitions to 'better himself' come to a pretty bloody conclusion.

As ever, Anthony Cartwright dishes up a vividly sympathetic slice of Black Country life. However the novel's title had led me to anticipate something more tightly plotted, more psychologically gripping. Despite its merits, for me this book fell rather flat.

[Chris Lilly · Rating 5 out of 5]

Truly excellent novel from an outstanding novelist. Tracks the destruction of manufacturing pride, trade pride, employment pride, in the Black Country, as the devastation wrought by Thatcher and her evil Tory clowns takes the heart out of working class communities. And it's beautifully written, acutely observed, funny, and appropriately lyrical. Especially on the subject of the once-mighty Wolverhampton Wanderers. And Sean Bull isn't named to evoke John Bull, he's named to evoke Steve Bull, Wolves from head to toe, who gave up the chance of International caps by staying loyal to his club even when it slid down the leagues.

Really, really good.

[Another · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very sad, yet I kept reading. Made me hate Thatcher even more. A compelling book.

[Daisy · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Margaret Thatcher wants to stop our people being rich and wants other people, her friends, to be rich. She’s attacking us because we rich and powerful and she doesn’t want us to be. I think she’s jealous of us.

Do you think Margaret Thatcher is breaking the machines at Dad’s work on purpose? I ask my granddad.

He smiles and says, I shouldn’t rule it out, son, I shouldn’t.”

[Giorgia Venturini · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rest in piss Margaret Thatcher

[David Sankey · Rating 5 out of 5]

A child's eye view of the systematic demolition of several industries, and the emasculation of their workforce, destruction of communities, families and personal lives , based round the Kate's Hill area of Dudley during Margaret Thatcher's premiership, punctuated with quotations from MT. It made me cry salt tears, twice, and it ends with a real punch. If I had one, very minor, criticism it would be to have brought in the foundation of the SDP (Nearby Dudley West MP Colin Phipps was instrumental in the Labour split) and the Guardian-reading Polly Toynbee-types who kept Thatcher in power in the 1983 General Election by splitting the Labour vote. It would have added a further layer of conflict between the adults, and raised tension as the ending approached. It would have also added a layer of cream to the subsequent reminiscences and character updates which also spice the later pages. But that's a mere quibble, for an easy-read, and exciting personal account (not history book) I found this gripping, if sad

[Chris · Rating 5 out of 5]

Building on some of the key events of the Thatcher years, the same character narrates his own story, both as the boy growing up at the cutting edge of those times, and as the man looking back on them.

At first I thought this dual approach would be too fragmentary but I was wrong. It took a while to get into, but worth it for a well-told story of heartbreak leading to an interesting and satisfying conclusion.

It would be naive to pretend that personal political beliefs won't colour your reaction to this one, especially if you were around in the era under consideration, but it's pretty clear from the outset which side the author's bread is buttered on.

This is the first I've heard of Anthony Cartwright, and I would certainly like to read more.

[Aine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sean Bull grew up in the midst of a close extended family in 80's Dudley. As a young witness to the devastation of Thatcherite policy for men who had worked in steel factories all his life, he learns some harsh lessons early in life. As his parents aspire to a better life, his grandfather thumps his uncle for daring to vote Tory. In a time of change, Sean must navigate through the socialist rhetoric and reality that unfolds around him.

The novel is narrated both by a nine-year Sean, as the story unfolds, and a contemporary adult Sean, who looks back and fills in the blanks. Funny, heartbreaking and revealing, this is a great read.

[Nicki · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this book. It seemed refreshing after all the other books that I have just read. A tragic story of a working class family trying to survive Thatcher's Britain. Reminded me of a lot of things that happened during the 1980s. It wasn't only the miners who suffered.. Well written and easy to read..

[R. Reddebrek · Rating 5 out of 5]

a novel about a working class family in Dudley and how the Thatcher years affected the family and the wider community. The main character was a young boy at the time and the narrative slips back and forth between his childhood and the present day. Its a very interesting examination of the stresses and social problems caused by unemployment and living under a government that's passively hostile to you. Includes most of the major events of the early 80ies giving a glimpse of what people actually thought of them at the time.

[Alberto Palumbo · Rating 5 out of 5]

L’unico pelo nell’uovo è che si ferma all’attentato al Brighton Grand Hotel, a cui Thatcher scampa nel 1984, invece di andare avanti fino alla caduta della Iron Lady nel 1990 con il Community Charge (la poll tax) e le rivolte di Londra (non parlo della morte di Thatcher perché il libro è del 2012, mentre Thatcher muore nel 2013), ma Anthony Cartwright mi ha impressionato in positivo: è un libro che merita di essere letto, in quanto riesce ben a spiegare cos’è stato il thatcherismo e come ha influenzato la vita della classe operaia inglese

[Matteo Paolanti · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un libro che racconta tra il candido e il realistico lo sfaldamento del tessuto sociale delle Midlands inglesi. Tra le scene di vita quotidiana e la formazione del protagonista si alza un monito per coloro che decidono di voltarsi a non guardare le persone che soffrono per politiche inique. 4 stelle più che meritate

[Grant · Rating 4 out of 5]

A brilliant four and a half out of five. An excellent brilliant book. So so good. Sometimes writing a tiny bit clunky and hard to follow. But just a superb book. I was born in this generation but this book gives me a completely different view.

[Ekaterina Andreeva · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved it so much. It’s a heart-breaking story written from perspective of Sean as a child and a grown-up with quotes from the Iron Lady herself in between. We can see how the political “aspirational” rhetoric turned into actions that broke families and whole communities.

[Dawn Donaldson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I grew up in a blue household and I’ve never really followed politics. The author clearly grew up in a red one and it certainly made me look at things differently from the other side of the coin. Well written. I’d recommend.

[Sharon Horan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant piece of social history.

[Maggie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Punch in the gut!

[Ruggero Ligotti · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lettura piacevole. Nulla di particolare ma non c’è da pentirsi dopo averlo letto. Forse la mia valutazione penalizza il racconto perché la vicenda è già stata trattata tante volte

[Richard Bromhall · Rating 5 out of 5]

Told by Sean Bull, a nine year old from Dudley, West Midlands, How I Killed Margaret Thatcher follows the first five years of the former Prime Minister's premiership. It details the devastating consequences Tory policy had on small industrial communities that the novel depicts. With putrid anger and resentment, Cartwright's narrative critiques Thatcher's aspirational society. When Sean's father, Francis, insists on buying the family home and moving out of a small rented flat, family members denounce it commenting 'it's more trouble than its worth.' Spoken in an almost prophetic tone, these concerns are legitimated when heartbreaking events transpire. Cartwright, angrily, points the finger of blame at Thatcher, or at the very least, the institutions she represents. Other policies such as the 'right to buy' scheme are equally lamented as the death of the community, and indeed, this is one of the concerns of the narrative. Everybody seems to move away, and if they don't, they tend to end up dead; either way, the fragmentation of a micro-industrial-Britain unravels throughout the novel, and Cartwright doesn't make the reader guess who's to blame. Anti-Thatcher sentiment runs throughout this work and is particularly emphasized with the epigraphs from the former Tory leader after each of its varying in length sections which are always placed expertly to highlight the disparity between rich and poor, as well as Thatcher's hypocrisy and cruelty when it comes to the citizens she governs. What is most impressive about this novel is that it undermines Thatcher's great conservative tenets such as the celebration of the nuclear family. Cartwright subverts this by presenting a world where Thatcherism actually disrupts this for the working poor. Certainly, political, as well as, literary subversion is apparent all the way through the text, and it is unrelenting. It offers a departure from the twenty-first century political novel which has come to quietly critique the 1980s and Tory policy. What the reader can enjoy with How I Killed Margaret Thatcher is the exposure to the loudest condemnation of this political period. Angry, loud, and revolutionary, it combines a working class voice with a genuine politically Left-wing agenda making How I Killed Margaret Thatcher the best novel of its kind.

[Lane Ashfeldt · Rating 4 out of 5]

The irresistibly titled new novel by Anthony Cartwright was launched recently in what used to be my nearest branch of Waterstones, on Islington Green. Wish I'd been there to see, as I would like to have heard a reading from it in the Dudley accent. But my lack of an internal local accent doesn't stop me following what's going on. Thatcher's would-be assassin in this novel, Sean, is a 9-year-old schoolboy when she first becomes Prime Minister, so his attempt to kill her has to be taken with a huge wodge of salt, but elsewhere the book is pretty realistic.

Between chapter breaks in the narrative comes some quotation of Margaret Thatcher's speeches (listed at the end, they are date-ranged 1975 to 1999, presumably to match the period). Although the speech extracts are very short, I found myself wanting to skip these sections just the way I would switch channels or turn off the telly altogether when Thatcher was on (which was a lot!). Not because I thought the use here was appropriate. But with How I Killed Margaret Thatcher, Cartwright delivers a blow-by-blow reminder of the aggressive times that so many of us grew up under. And a reminder of how extremely annoying it was to have this woman constantly on TV, telling us all what to think and how to behave, just like the stroppiest teacher in the school who wouldn't go away.

[Rachel · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is one of those books where even though I agree with the premise, I just couldn't enjoy it.
I hate Maggie Thatcher with a passion and reading once again all of the horrible things she did and the short sighted, selfish speeches she gave fuelled that hatred, but even still, I didn't like the characters of this book so despite agreeing with their dislike of Thatcher I couldn't be fully in their side.
The narrative jots about between Paul's childhood and his present day without warning and the thing that really set it off for me was the use of accent. It took me a while to get the hang of the Brummie accent and I really didn't like it. It is as bad to read as it is to hear.
Despite all of the flaws I felt it had, I still completed the book. Storehouse it isn't so bad and I am sure some people will like the characters more than I did. If you can put up with the accent then you may even enjoy this book.
Still it wasn't so bad that it changed my mind about Maggie Thatcher. I still hate the woman.

[Donna Burns · Rating 5 out of 5]

I borrowed this book from my local library. I enjoyed the way the book moved between Sean being nine years old and later when he's an adult. I found the way the author moved between these two time lines quite eerie and sort of ghostly, because at the start there was lots of industry, jobs and people. In the older Sean bits it's more quiet and subdued, with lots of people gone away or died. I found putting the older Sean bit next to the younger Sean bit very effective. It made me think of my home town and childhood, as when I was growing up the same things were happening to the industry in the area.

The Tory conference in Brighton was where the climax of the story took place which for me drew parallels to the present day as the Tory conference in Manchester is being organised, with a high metal fence and lots of champagne.