"What do you make of it, Mr Spock?" Peace in Northern Ireland

They’re can’t be many modern writers who have created a proverb. By their very nature, proverbs are old, time-tested pieces of folk wisdom.  Over the course of the last few weeks, I’ve read two pieces of prose on serious topics and they both have used the proverb “Only Nixon could go to China.” This is remarkable on two bases: one, the event that inspired the proverb happened only in 1972, and two, the expression became famous only through its use in Star Trek VI: The undiscovered country. Neither writer credited the movie, the character Mr Spock (who introduced the phrase as an old Vulcan proverb) or the writer Nicholas Meyer.

Nicholas Meyer is an American writer who sent Jack the Ripper to modern New York pursued by H G Wells in his time machine, had Sherlock Holmes' cocaine addiction treated by Sigmund Freud, and wrote the three best Star Trek films. (If I have to explain that those are Wrath of Khan, The Voyage Home, and The Undiscovered Country, I’m not sure our relationship is going to last.) While the expression “Only Nixon could go to China” existed before “Star Trek VI”, it was not proverbial, or even in common use, until Meyer, to coin a phrase, made it so.

The two pieces of prose were an article by Noel Pearson on the current debate on recognition* of Aboriginals in the Australian Constitution (a topic I know far too little about to make comment  - an attitude which may queer my membership of the Bloggers Union) and the other was Great Hatred, Little Room: Making peace in Northern Ireland by Jonathan Powell, Tony Blair’s Chief-of-staff and chief negotiator for the UK Government during the peace process that left notorious rabble-rouser and Unionist Ian Paisley and ex-IRA terrorist Martin McGuinness as Chief and Deputy Minister of a working and independent Northern Irish Government. One can criticise Tony Blair for many things, not the least of which was leaving government in the hands of Gordon Brown, but his achievements in Northern Ireland are a legacy of which he can be proud.

Nor is it simply his legacy. As Yeats might say, I write it out in prose;  David Trimble, John Hume, Ian Paisley, Martin McGuinness, Gerry Adams and many more all had to transcend their country’s history, tribal hatreds, real and imagined wrongs, their political parties and their own personal and interpersonal histories to achieve the creation of viable government in Northern Ireland that truly represents its people and not just a small section, and an end to widespread political violence. Nor is the story come to an end. Sinn Fein still want a united Ireland, the Unionists parties still want to maintain their link with the UK, and violence can still raise its ugly head. But both parties are committed to the concept that Northern Ireland will go in the direction that its people dictates, and that violence is not part of the solution.

Powell’s book is a detailed account of the negotiations between the Unionist, Nationalist and Republican political parties,  and the UK and Irish governments that resulted in the St Andrew’s Agreement of 2007. Someone once said there was no future in Ireland, just the past happening over and over again. The peace process was a microcosm of the country’s history. Agreements nearly made, then broken, promises made, then broken, small advances, huge setbacks. Powell has little gift for giving us an assessment of the characters of the people involved but his head for detail makes complex negotiations at least intelligible for the lay reader. He is even-handed not only about the parties directly involved but also for what came before, in a potted history of Northern Ireland and even giving due credit to John Major and Margaret Thatcher. As the British government’s chief negotiator, this book is invaluable for an understanding of the process and will be essential reading for anyone interested in the topic. In the end, this is but one man’s view and I’m sure many more will follow. David Trimble has already registered some of his objections to this book and he will not be alone.  I look forward to reading more.

This final process seemed to begin with moderate Nationalist politician John Hume’s decision to start talking to the Republican Sinn Fein. This was against his personal and political beliefs but he recognised that the only way to get anywhere was to talk. That is Powell’s chief message – the need to talk and to persist in talking even when it appears hopeless; worth remembering as we despair about the Middle East. It is also worth remembering both Hume and his Unionist counterpart Trimble (who shared the Nobel Peace Prize) were eventually forced out and replaced by the more extreme Sinn Fein leaders and Ian Paisley, who brought the process to its conclusion. In the end, only Nixon could go to China.

Live long and prosper.




*Not the original article but a follow-up.

"As opposed to one of those 'I really like you' murders?" Ian Mortimer on Roger Mortimer

I’ve just finished Ian Mortimer’s excellent biography of an important man in English history – the first man ever to depose an English monarch, who ruled as king in all but name for three years, and wound up hung and drawn for his trouble. Yet very little is known about him and this is his first biography. The man in question is Roger Mortimer, First Earl of March, who with his lover Isabella, the Queen, overthrew Edward II, before having him killed, as is well-known, with a red-hot poker (or spit) up his anus.

The Greatest Traitor is engrossing and readable, making medieval British history fresh and vital. And though Ian (I’m going on a first name basis for clarity) provides clear narrative where history may not, he is always very clear, either in the body of the book or in the notes where he is using conjecture and on what the conjecture is based. Roger, though the most powerful man of his time, has left only scant evidence behind of his motivations. Ian has given us a clear, exciting and plausible life of Roger, making him a more rounded character than left to us by previous historians and playwrights. 

The biggest revelation of the book, and the most controversial, is his argument that Edward II did not die with the poker, but that Roger faked his death and funeral, and kept the king alive for political and personal reasons. After Roger was hung, Edward II escaped or was released and spent years as a hermit in Ireland and Europe. This is not the contention of a conspiracy theorist on the Internet but a theory arrived at with research based on documentary evidence and both the evidence and the argument are presented at length. It’s still a controversial theory, and arguments still continue, but such is often the nature of history.

Edward II may or may not have been gay or bisexual. He had four children with his wife and one illegitimate child so he was not averse to the ladies. But famously, he had ‘Favourites’. The first was Piers Gaveston, and the second Hugh Despenser. He would lavish land and power on both these men to the point of gross corruption. With Piers Gaveston, though it is impossible to say whether the men became lovers, they certainly loved each other. On one occasion, returning to England, Edward rushed passed Isabella at the dock to embrace and shower Gaveston with kisses. Hugh Despenser in his turn enjoyed all the favours that Gaveston had.

Both of Edward’s favourites exploited their relationship with the king, lording over the peers of England, stealing land and money and having enemies killed, often illegally. Predictably this did not go down well, and both men were forced into exile at various times and eventually both were killed. It was the war against Despenser led by Roger which resulted in the king’s forced abdication, and the ascension of his son Edward III, under the control of his mother and her lover Roger. Edward II’s death by poker is often portrayed as a punishment for his homosexuality.

But to be fair, Edward II could have buggered just about anyone he liked, if he had been a good or even a strong king, but he was not. His personal relationships led to massive corruption of his government, disrupted the social order of the country, and as a military leader, he only won one international campaign and lost control of lands in Ireland, Scotland and in France. He was incompetent, weak, dishonest and petty. Edward II could have been James Bond in the sack, but unless he could run the country well, and not run it into the ground financially and militarily, or at least not antagonise or alienate all the powerful men in the country, he was not going to last long as king.

Nor does the poker story, if indeed it ever happened, necessarily mean that he was being punished for being homosexual. Sticking a horn into a man’s anus and ramming a red hot poker through it and into his guts is a good way to kill someone without leaving any visible marks, always a good idea when indulging in murder – especially of the Lord’s Annointed.

I have never been a fan of Hate Crime Legislation, the concept that beating or killing or otherwise harming someone because of their sexuality should be different under the law to doing the same for any other reason. I understand why it came about. Homosexuals have long been a furtive, demonised and victimised part of Western Society. In England for many years, a murderer could plead the infamous ‘Guardman’s Defence’ i.e. the man made a homosexual pass at me which is why I killed him, and this would actually work! Still today, homosexuals are portrayed in certain circles as sinister sexual predators. So as recognition of the long years that homosexuals were second-class citizens unable to get a fair shake in a courtroom, legislators have introduced hate crime legislation. There was a simpler way to ensure homosexuals, or any other human being, is treated fairly by the law. That was to apply the law equally to all, in the spirit, and to the letter, in which it was intended. We don’t always have to legislate or create something new to correct wrongs – we can just do the right thing.

"Colour my world." Jasper Fforde's Shades of Grey

I am an enormous fan of Jasper Fforde. I have followed him from his first novel, The Eyre Affair, through to his latest, Shades of Grey. This has taken me through five Thursday Next novels, two Nursery Crime novels and now into a third series – actually, I’m not sure of the title of this series. The endpage of the book promised, like James Bond, Brunswick and de Mauve would return in at least two more novels. I was three-quarters through the book when I noticed this and had no idea who these people were. All became clear by the time the book was finished.

When I first discovered Fforde I felt like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken. The humour, ideas and word play reminded me so of a novel I would like to write. I pressed a copy or recommended it to friends and family almost at random. Some like me became dedicated fans. Others not so much, that is to say, not at all. And there seemed to be no pattern to this. People I was sure would like the book were largely indifferent and vice versa.  Why this should be I can’t say. But I have a theory.

The Thursday Next books take place in a slightly alternative Britain in the Eighties. The hero, Thursday Next, works for Special Operations 17, and is trying to stop a madman kidnapping major characters from fiction and holding them to ransom. She has a pet dodo and was in her day a major talent in England’s favourite sport, croquet.

The Nursery Crime books take place in what might be called Mother Goose land, except, apart from the fact it is populated by people from Nursery Rhymes, such as our detective hero, Jack Spratt, as well as Humpty Dumpty and the sinister serial killer, the Gingerbread Man (yes, run, run as fast as you can!), it is also a slightly alternative Britain.

Shades of Grey takes place in what seems to be Britain as well, a dystopic future England where something happened and people can only see one colour from the spectrum, and one’s life is determined by which colour and how much you can see. Technology has been largely abandoned for what is now a more rustic existence and life is governed by the rules of the Colourtocracy, all for the good of the Collective.

I say ‘something happened’ because that is as much as an explanation Fforde gives the reader or that the inhabitants of the world are ever given. Which is how Fforde seems to work, creating a world that is only slightly different to ours, although sometimes bizarrely, and never explaining in detail how this world works or why. I think this can be part of his charm, or a cause of frustration, depending how you react to it. That the new world is only slightly different adds to the effect. It’s not much of a theory and probably wouldn’t stand up to any decent scrutiny. It may just be different strokes for different folks, and no more explanation needed.

Mind you, explaining your imagined world in detail may not be the best idea. For further exploration of this topic, watch the Star Wars sexology in the order they were released. The more details and backstory we get in the second trilogy (Ep I, II and III) the less interesting and plausible that universe becomes. On a related yet different topic,  Alien is more frightening than Aliens because we never see the whole monster. The original Cape Fear is more frightening than the remake because we see less violence and more is left to our imagination.  Ah the power of the imagination. And the courage to let the audience have some.

Fforde dumps the reader into a new world and expects us to catch up. Shades of Grey took me the longest to get into of any of his novels, but once in I was hooked, and to see what happens to his heroes Eddie, from the Red strata of society and Jane from the Grey (Fforde still has his linguistic fun even in a colour-driven world). I expect, like with the other series, more of the world will be revealed in future instalments, but also that much will not be revealed. That’s fine – there’s a lot about my world I don’t get, so why should I expect completeness anywhere else?

If you like Jasper Fforde, you will like this book. If you don’t, give it a go – it’s a new direction for him in many ways, with, without giving too much away, a darker undertone than his previous work. And see if you can, as I cannot, hear Fforde’s name in your head without sounding the ‘f’ twice.