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Disraeli
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
March 3, 2021
When this book finally percolated to the top of my reading list, I was not sure about it. A political biography is pretty far outside my normal interests, but this one was once a selection of the Time Reading Program, and I have come to accept their book judgments. For instance, on my own I would never have read a dual biography of Darwin and Huxley (Apes, Angels, and Victorians), or a history of Washington D.C. during the Civil War (Reveille in Washington) yet both of them were also Time Reading Program selections and were outstanding. With that in mind I plunged into Disraeli, and was not disappointed.
I approached the book with little knowledge of its subject. I knew that Benjamin Disraeli and William Gladstone had been adversaries in Parliament in the second half of the 1800s, and that Disraeli is usually remembered as an opportunistic pragmatist ready to embrace change for political advantage, while Gladstone was philosophical, deeply religious, and committed to his party’s conservative agenda. The reality was far more engaging and complicated for both of them.
Both were brilliant. Disraeli was temperamentally unsuited for university and was kicked out of a preparatory school for beating up the school bully. Gladstone graduated from Oxford with that rare and impressive achievement of a double first in Classics and Mathematics. He authored a number of books while serving in Parliament, including his three volume Studies on Homer and the Homeric Age, which started a still-ongoing linguistic debate about color perception in the ancient world (why did Homer call the sea “wine dark,” and describe honey as green and cattle as violet?), which is discussed in Guy Deutscher’s 2010 book Through the Language Glass.
This 1936 biography by André Maurois (translated by Hamish Miles) is thoughtful and engaging, painting a portrait of Disraeli as a dedicated reformer, frustrated by decades of serving under more senior members of his party whose vision for England was to support minimal changes to the status quo.
He first made a name for himself as a dandy, extravagantly dressed, always ready with a sarcastic bon mot, a favorite of the high society circuit of salons, country houses, and fancy dinners. A couple of embarrassing business ventures had left him deeply in debt, which he continued to accumulate. He was a talented novelist, which increased his fame while adding little to his fortune, and caused him to be seen in Parliament (which he was elected to only on his fourth attempt) as something of an intellectual lightweight. However, he also proved to be one of the great orators of his age and quickly became a key member of his party.
Queen Victoria and Prince Albert did not trust Disraeli at first, being put off by what they considered his ungentlemanly attacks on more genteel members of Parliament. As they got to know him their opinion improved, as he showed keen insight into the political issues of the day, and was a master of parliamentarian procedure.
He did not finally become Prime Minister until he was 70, in 1874, and Maurois pauses to consider what he might have accomplished had he achieved that office earlier. He proved to be an effective leader in his handling of a crisis with Russia in 1878. The press was hounding Parliament to declare war, and even the queen was sending him daily remonstrances to deal with Russia. Instead, working with Bismark and other European leaders, he dominated a conference which ended up gaining Britain all of its objectives, over the strenuous complaints of the Russians. The Czar was kept away from Constantinople, and thus would not be a threat to British interests in the Mediterranean or the trade routes to India, and was also prevented from establishing a foothold in Armenia, which could have threatened both the Ottomans and the French and British areas of influence in the Levant.
Gladstone comes across in this book much less favorably. He was genuinely deeply religious, but not above using religion as a front to accomplish his means. “Gladstone liked to choose an abstract principle and from that to deduce his preferences. And his tendency was to believe that his desires were those of the Almighty. He was reproached, not so much for always having the ace of trumps up his sleeve as for claiming that God had put it there.” (p. 214) He was always suspicious of Disraeli’s motives, not just for political purposes but from personal animosity as well. As Maurois puts it so well, “Disraeli was sure that Gladstone was no saint, but Gladstone was far from certain that Disraeli was not the Devil.” (p. 214)
Gladstone also shows himself as a consummate opportunist. After he was unseated as Prime Minister by Disraeli in 1874, he retired from Parliament to devote the remainder of his life to religious studies and good works, but when Disraeli was forced to call for a new election in 1880 he decided to return, elbowing aside the men he himself had picked to lead his party. Queen Victoria found him tiresome and uncooperative, and continued to seek Disraeli’s opinion on political events even after his retirement, a definite breach of the traditions of the constitutional monarchy.
André Maurois does a fine job in the this book showing Benjamin Disraeli as a fully fleshed figure, one of the most brilliant political minds of his time. British society, the inner workings of parliamentary democracy, and the conflicting priorities of the empire are all described to help explain the milieu in which he lived and acted. It is a fine biography of an often misunderstood man, and is highly recommended.
I approached the book with little knowledge of its subject. I knew that Benjamin Disraeli and William Gladstone had been adversaries in Parliament in the second half of the 1800s, and that Disraeli is usually remembered as an opportunistic pragmatist ready to embrace change for political advantage, while Gladstone was philosophical, deeply religious, and committed to his party’s conservative agenda. The reality was far more engaging and complicated for both of them.
Both were brilliant. Disraeli was temperamentally unsuited for university and was kicked out of a preparatory school for beating up the school bully. Gladstone graduated from Oxford with that rare and impressive achievement of a double first in Classics and Mathematics. He authored a number of books while serving in Parliament, including his three volume Studies on Homer and the Homeric Age, which started a still-ongoing linguistic debate about color perception in the ancient world (why did Homer call the sea “wine dark,” and describe honey as green and cattle as violet?), which is discussed in Guy Deutscher’s 2010 book Through the Language Glass.
This 1936 biography by André Maurois (translated by Hamish Miles) is thoughtful and engaging, painting a portrait of Disraeli as a dedicated reformer, frustrated by decades of serving under more senior members of his party whose vision for England was to support minimal changes to the status quo.
He first made a name for himself as a dandy, extravagantly dressed, always ready with a sarcastic bon mot, a favorite of the high society circuit of salons, country houses, and fancy dinners. A couple of embarrassing business ventures had left him deeply in debt, which he continued to accumulate. He was a talented novelist, which increased his fame while adding little to his fortune, and caused him to be seen in Parliament (which he was elected to only on his fourth attempt) as something of an intellectual lightweight. However, he also proved to be one of the great orators of his age and quickly became a key member of his party.
Queen Victoria and Prince Albert did not trust Disraeli at first, being put off by what they considered his ungentlemanly attacks on more genteel members of Parliament. As they got to know him their opinion improved, as he showed keen insight into the political issues of the day, and was a master of parliamentarian procedure.
He did not finally become Prime Minister until he was 70, in 1874, and Maurois pauses to consider what he might have accomplished had he achieved that office earlier. He proved to be an effective leader in his handling of a crisis with Russia in 1878. The press was hounding Parliament to declare war, and even the queen was sending him daily remonstrances to deal with Russia. Instead, working with Bismark and other European leaders, he dominated a conference which ended up gaining Britain all of its objectives, over the strenuous complaints of the Russians. The Czar was kept away from Constantinople, and thus would not be a threat to British interests in the Mediterranean or the trade routes to India, and was also prevented from establishing a foothold in Armenia, which could have threatened both the Ottomans and the French and British areas of influence in the Levant.
Gladstone comes across in this book much less favorably. He was genuinely deeply religious, but not above using religion as a front to accomplish his means. “Gladstone liked to choose an abstract principle and from that to deduce his preferences. And his tendency was to believe that his desires were those of the Almighty. He was reproached, not so much for always having the ace of trumps up his sleeve as for claiming that God had put it there.” (p. 214) He was always suspicious of Disraeli’s motives, not just for political purposes but from personal animosity as well. As Maurois puts it so well, “Disraeli was sure that Gladstone was no saint, but Gladstone was far from certain that Disraeli was not the Devil.” (p. 214)
Gladstone also shows himself as a consummate opportunist. After he was unseated as Prime Minister by Disraeli in 1874, he retired from Parliament to devote the remainder of his life to religious studies and good works, but when Disraeli was forced to call for a new election in 1880 he decided to return, elbowing aside the men he himself had picked to lead his party. Queen Victoria found him tiresome and uncooperative, and continued to seek Disraeli’s opinion on political events even after his retirement, a definite breach of the traditions of the constitutional monarchy.
André Maurois does a fine job in the this book showing Benjamin Disraeli as a fully fleshed figure, one of the most brilliant political minds of his time. British society, the inner workings of parliamentary democracy, and the conflicting priorities of the empire are all described to help explain the milieu in which he lived and acted. It is a fine biography of an often misunderstood man, and is highly recommended.
November 22, 2019
I found this book thoroughly enjoyable. Prior to this, I was only vaguely acquainted with Disraeli and the author presents a beautifully written picture of the man and his times. This is not a book devoted to the blow by blow detailing the subject's political career. Rather the emphasis was on the man through his writings and speeches along with the author's own elegant expressions.
November 22, 2023
As other reviews have stated, I was not so sure about this book. Once I started, however, I could not put it down. An extraordinary writing of an extraordinary life and an extraordinary man.
I feel so much the better for having read of this name that we all know without knowing the person
I feel so much the better for having read of this name that we all know without knowing the person
July 1, 2015
A fascinating subject and a very fine example of the biographer's art.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews