From the moment the first scabrous and brilliant volume was published, people wanted more. Now they have it and they will not be disappointed. These diaries are not wonderful simply because they show a politician unafraid to say what he thinks, and refusing to suck up to those whom he represents. They are great because they show all sides of a man who was, within his complex personality, arrogant, sensitive, loyal, unfaithful, patriotic, selfish, selfless, and—at all times—completely Technicolor.
The infamous first part of the diaries of Alan Clark over two Margaret Thatcher parliaments… a must read for those interested in the UK politics of the 1980s. 5 out of 12, Two Stars just for the infamy, as this sure dragged on in parts. 2010 read
Probably the best politicians book of the Thatcher yrs, probably because Clark was never quite inner circle, & thus able to be more objective. It shouldn’t be regarded as a truthful & neutral account despite the deliberately frank style of writing, & the confessional glimpses of cracks in his psyche. He's certainly a fine writer of prose with a wonderful turn of phrase. He does give himself the final word in every argument, which leads me to believe that his descriptions of his discussions with Mrs T might have included a tad more bum-licking on his part. Why he failed to make the cabinet is a bit of a mystery to him; he seems no more mediocre than some of the others who made it (Baker, Gummer, Waldegrave, Waddington, Howard etc). He would have us believe that it was due to his outspokenness on several key issues, & often alludes to enemies (Hurd, Heseltine). And he never received a K or peerage to his name. Aaaah! Mind you, he was a man born to every privilege the world could bestow upon him, & he has abused every 1 to the limit. 1 should therefore avoid feeling sorry for the old alpha male.
So why didn't he make the cabiniet? Ken Clark (no relation, also a Tory minister) said, at the launch of Ion Trewin’s biography of Alan Clark, that he believed him to be a fascist, & there seems to be some justification for that opinion, which gave the sometime loose cannon a rather dangerous edge. Others said how appallingly he could treat people when he couldn’t be bothered to be charming. Chris Mullin MP described him as the laziest minister of all time. So perhaps he was lucky to have got as far as he did. Tellingly, the whole book tells of the game of politics. This is partly why it’s fascinating, but he has nothing at all to say about the state of the country, the effect of his policies, the workers on the dole, the wealth being created. It’s all a game to him. Rather too many politicians think like this; the Westminster game, policies to wrongfoot or outflank the opposition, not to improve the country.
For anyone with an interest in late Thatcherite politics this is a must read. But the book is not only political- you get to see the world from the point of view of millionaire toff with a castle and collection of classic cars as well as a list of buddies who between them largely own and run the UK. He is not afraid to be indiscreet or hide his prejudices. A real maverick. Just not clear to me whether he is in politics for the power rush, the ability to help people or just to ensure that things stay as they are. We never get to the bottom of this. But very enjoyable nonetheless- I laughed out loud at many of his comments and observations.
The extraordinary thing about reading diaries is that you are already aware of how events unfolded. Predictions can be accurate or miles wide of the mark. Events that you know are on the horizon, like Thatcher's fall from power, seem inconceivable. There's also something rather tragic linked to reading a man's ambitions and knowing they will not be fulfilled.
I found the last 100 pages or so incredibly moving, with Clark exultant about his return to government and his prospects for taking a grip of his party, while revelling in being a grandfather, unaware that a large tumour was growing in his brain and that he would be dead within months. The speedy descent to the grave, with Clark suddenly stopping writing and being dead within the month, is a reminder to all that life is short and must be seized.
Jane Clark's final few entries about the challenges of dealing with a terminally ill loved one are heart-wrenching.
So, why only 3 stars? Well, it's probably more of a 3.5 and is down to the fact that much of the first 20 years of diaries meant little to me, as I was too young to remember contemporary events and personalities, which I think removes a lot of the power of Clark's observations.
Certainly, reading about him in his prime makes the last year more tragic, as you have a good grasp of the character and forcefulness of the man, but I did find it a bit of a slog. I'm pleased I carried on through with it and am quite surprised at the impression the book has left on me.
I have to confess to finding these hard going, probably because the minutiae of political jockeying is not really my thing. However, they have such a reputation that I put aside my qualms in order to read them. Maybe it's because so much of what was sensational when they were published is now well-known, or maybe I've been spoilt by the tight story arc possible in a novel although seldom obvious in real life, but I didn't find the detail fascinating enough to compensate for my lack of interest in the main theme.
Alan Clark represents a world so different from mine, politically, culturally and financially, but I can't help loving his diaries for their honesty and fragility. Their account of the workings of government and the futility of much of what goes on there, ruled as it is by routine, the civil service and ministerial ambition and vanity, is truly enlightening and entertaining.
Not for everyone, obviously; political memoirs of career bon vivant, gaining traction in Thatcher's No. 10 - hilariously dismissive of all but one's own self - gloriously self centred, catty, gossip filled, adulterous, often tipsy, bright, observant, gifted and melancholy - the distillation of a certain (mostly now disappeared) type of Englishman.