What makes 'Scoop' such delicious, tongue-in-cheek reading even today, more than 80 years after it was first published? Obviously, it is more fashionable among the recent clout of readers to treat it as a quaint, albeit enjoyable, relic of those days when racial and gender stereotypes could be tossed up not so casually in English literature. Quaint, Evelyn Waugh's book is for sure, but I think that like all great satires which endure for generations, Waugh's hilarious farce of sensationalist tabloid journalism at its most outrageous feels even more relevant and prescient in today's times of 'fake news' and salacious gossip columns giving birth to trolls and eliciting much laughter in the social media circuits. News is no longer what we used to read to obtain the truth.
If there is any difference between the world of 'Scoop' and the world of today, it might be a slight one; today, leaders of nations and organised democracies are dictating their pressmen and yes-men to keep the grapevine of lies and exaggerated or even non-existent achievements blooming and thriving in the fertile heat of people's indifference or ignorance, something like what Squealer in Orwell's 'Animal Farm' did for Napoleon, something like what Goebbels did for the delusional Hitler. That is, of course, a sight more darkly comic and unsettling than seeing the hopeless buffoon Lord Copper, newspaper tycoon of London's Fleet Street, go about in absent-minded, delusional fashion, proud of his 'talent' at spotting ace correspondents and reporters who are obviously falsifying or even inventing entire truths to earn their pay as per the contract.
But then, haven't we already a spoiled brat of a business tycoon ruling a nation already manipulating the press and giving big, laughable speeches to his followers and fanatics on whatever pleases him? By that comparison, Lord Copper is an almost benevolent fool and I would not mind working under him as a correspondent too! At least, he will commission me to go to Africa or write lurid, dirty anecdotes and still earn my keep.
And so, Waugh's book is a cheerful, goofy lark of a novel. It is not meant to be taken seriously but it is hard to think of it in that way especially when the writer's notorious scathing sense of humour takes over. Orwell was more direct and brutally honest and Greene was more heartfelt and compassionate for the hapless men and women in the more comic of his entertainments. Waugh, on the other hand, is more of a direct descendant of the likes of his forebears Oscar Wilde, Hector Hugh Munro and P.G Wodehouse; like them, his humour has a take-no-prisoners ruthlessness that is yet elegant and beautifully precise. Mere words and turns of phrase and jabs aimed at the stifling conventionality of our hapless and dotty English old-timers can both tickle you and terrify you with their scalding wit.
It is primarily as a sleek, masterfully staged comedy of manners, in the vein of Wilde's plays or Wodehouse and Munro's instantly quotable drawing room comedies, that 'Scoop' works best, with a rich cast of doddering old-timers and bewildered youngsters, of the frequently nonplussed foreign editor Mr. Salter who is completely out of sorts in the country or the novel's unlikely hero, whose name should be kept a secret if one is to preserve the comic suspense intact, and his family of malicious aunts and quirky uncles, to amuse us for almost the whole of the book's length. The broader gags and sillier slapstick, too, make for a riotous time, reminding us just how wacky British comedy, known for its subtlety, can be.
It is only in Waugh's naive, somewhat even knee-high attempts at political satire that 'Scoop' feels
distinctly, though harmlessly, dated. His fictional West African wasteland of Ishmaelia, where a civil war might be brewing and which is crowded with American, English and European correspondents driven to the depths of despair, does not quite come alive very convincingly (by comparison, Greene's real-life backdrop of Havana at the wee-end of Batista's regime made for a more compelling and believable stage to the rich comedy of 'Our Man In Havana') and while the wild goose chase for the titular 'scoop' for news makes for a deliriously rib-tickling time, there could have been a more audacious payoff to the same.
That said, it was back in the 30s that Waugh was suggesting, boldly and presciently, that the whole of the West could go so far as engineering a coup in an African country to get privileges to its rich reservoir of resources. Many years after that, it would be Frederick Forsyth writing 'The Dogs Of War'. So, there is something to be said about how well the book has aged.
So, yes, I loved 'Scoop'. It is fun, without being unintelligent, and it really is worth buying for the brilliant, perfectly preserved slices of crisp British humour alone. I think too that there is more to Waugh than meets the eye, as it is with Greene, and I would love to discover his more 'serious' novels next.
My original rating for the book was a solid 4 stars, but I added an half because it made me think that it is not quite preposterous a premise, of journalism becoming a cheap effect as it is happening today. I can never be even slightly cruel to books that I have enjoyed and so, here is a full five stars, out of sheer generosity. Lord Copper would be glad with that.