Stephen Dorril's biography of Mosley has been thoroughly researched, and the political storyline is well told, making the book essential reading for anyone with an interest in the subject. However my interest in Moseley is lukewarm, and I found Dorril's biography difficult to stick with - despite being a great reader of history and biography. The fault isn't necessarily Dorril's.
My first glimpse of Mosley was P.G. Wodehouse's caricature, amateur dictator Sir Roderick Spode and his 'Black Shorts', and through reading about the Mitford family. I don't hold with Mosley's political views and didn't expect to like him, but I was hoping Dorril's book would help me understand Mosley, beyond my existing two-dimensional idea of him as Britain's most popular fascist. 'Black Shirt' tells the political side of his story in great detail, but Mosley's personal story remains more elusive.
The book begins with an overview of the subject's ancestry and early life, which in Mosley's case includes the separation of his parents due his father's philandering. Dorril follows the unfortunate trend of modern biographers to bung in a bit of psychoanalysis at this point. He speculates about Mosley's unusually close relationship with his mother and distant relationship with his father, and how these may have shaped the man to come. This kind of speculation is occasionally justified where a biographer has delved deeply into the subject's early life. If Dorril has delved deeply, he doesn't share it with us. A mere five pages are given to Mosley's early childhood and maternal relationship, most which is conjecture with a few isolated quotations from his mother (given without sufficient context for us to judge if the conclusions are reasonable).
Dorril moves quickly through Mosley's youth and brief army career to the political story, where he is on safer ground and handles the subject expertly. Mosley's personal life is given lesser attention, although it's frequently handled in the same way as his childhood; Dorril offers more 'psychoanalysis' of Mosley's first wife Cimmie (who he describes as stout, although the illustrations show no such thing), drawing similarities between the philandering Mosley and her father, Lord Curzon. Other important relationships and events are dealt with quickly, and feel like distractions from the political story. Mosley's illness and death is dealt with in less than a page - in a book spanning some 647 pages.
Black Shirt is an excellent political history. I don't feel as though my two-dimensional ideas about Mosley - the man - have been shattered, but Dorril isn't to blame. Mosley's own careful image-management makes it difficult to get close to him, and he has left very little personal account that can be trusted (he even had his mother's diaries burned). Nor are the second-hand accounts of those who idolised him wholly reliable. In light of this, it seems fitting that Wodehouse's caricature endures.