Category: Literature

I Berlin

It is always interesting how two diarists record the same event, in this case lunch at 10 Downing Street on 9th February, 1944.

Trials and Tribulations

Alan Brooke’s diaries have an unexpected dimension. His meticulous accounts of meetings, sherry parties, dinners and time with his family and bird books are what I expected and get. 

Brief Encounter

Alessandro Cicognini’s name is not familiar outside Italy. He was, he died aged 89 in 1995, a prolific composer of music for Italian films – more than a hundred. David Lean’s name is definitely familiar.

Habakkuk

There are only two K tiles in a Scrabble set so, besides being a name, it would not be possible unless in conjunction with a Blank. Cast your mind back to circa 600 BC and you will find the prophet Habakkuk railing against God’s injustice.

Living with Alan Brooke

It’s May 1943 and I’m with Alan Brooke in Washington. A diarist, a blogger too, likes to show their best side although Chips Channon never seemed to have a best side.

Catch a Clipper

In 1961 you either had to have a vaccination certificate or quarantine for fourteen days if you arrived in the US from the UK. But you know that, because you read it here in 2017. It looks like next year that’s what will happen again; that’s if an effective vaccine is found. It’s a funny… Continue reading Catch a Clipper

Sir Oswald

This portrait of Field Marshal Lord Alexander is by Sir Oswald Birley. As I am more familiar with his grandson, Robin, who I remember starting out selling posh sandwiches to me in the City before taking on his father’s business, running clubs for people with money in abundance but sometimes insufficient in other more desirable… Continue reading Sir Oswald

Out to Lunch

Keith Waterhouse is very particular about what lunch is not: ‘It is not prawn cocktail, steak and Black Forest gateau with your bank manger.

Top Secret

I haven’t read Samuel Pepys, The Unequalled Self, by Claire Tomalin since it was published eighteen years ago. It is very good. You will be aware that Pepys wrote his diary for only a decade, the 1660s, and wrote in shorthand to keep the contents secret from prying eyes. He had a point.