The Tyrannicide Brief (Geoffrey Robertson)

No doubt the fault lies with me, but I have never found a book about the English Civil War that has managed to hold my interest for very long . . . until now. Geoffrey Robertson's 2005 book, The Tyrannicide Brief, enables the reader to gain an understanding of the causes and complexities of those most turbulent of times. By telling the story of one man's personal and critical involvement in the trial of Charles I, Robertson has provided not only the detailed backdrop of the dramatic conflict between Parliament and King but also a disturbing insight into the darker aspects of human nature.

John Cooke was the lawyer who accepted the brief to prosecute Charles I at his trial in 1649. Cooke took on this huge responsibility when other men of his profession were literally hiding in their chambers in fear of the potential consequences of such an undertaking. Eleven years later, with Cromwell dead and and the members of the 'cause' left rudderless and badly divided, Charles II was put on the throne. England again became a monarchy, and John Cooke was to pay the ultimate price for his efforts. The new king ruthlessly and vindictively set about rounding up all those deemed responsible for the execution of his father. Those who were subsequently brought to their mock trials became known as The Regicides. Their fate was sealed, and the author rightly spares us none of the gruesome details of the manner of their deaths at the hands of the appointed executioner. If England thought it had stepped into a more enlightened age, the hanging, drawing and quartering of the Regicides reminded everyone that plumbing the depths of depravity is not peculiar to any given era.

Times and opinions may change, but much of what makes the world of politics what it is does not. In this book, which deals with events that took place three and a half centuries ago, we find examples of behaviour and attitudes that are common enough today: the lust for power and the abuse of power; dogmatic conviction and calamitous intransigence; machiavellian mendacity and downright brute force. Thanks to the likes of John Cooke, there is also a large chunk of decency and courage.

Now All Roads Lead To France The Last Years of Edward Thomas

Edward Thomas was a complex individual. He was unhappy, dissatisfied and a depressive. These personality traits caused great anxiety and difficulties for his wife and children, and it is for these reasons that any book about him must give as much information as possible to the reader about the development of its subject. This is a highly readable book, greeted in most quarters by great acclaim; however, accepting that Matthew Hollis sets out to tell the facts of Thomas' final years, we are deprived of a chance of getting to the essence of Thomas himself. To fully appreciate the tale of a gifted but tormented writer's duel with what was to be his own desperate end-game, we surely need insight into his formative years. We are given from the outset a man on the verge of suicide, a man pained by his own suspicions that he is fundamentally afraid of confrontation; yet we must travel with him through his brave enlistment into the armed forces and onto the killing fields of France without any real knowledge of what has stirred up his demons and virtually wrecked his life.

Thomas was no coward. We need to know why he thought he was, and how his self-esteem had been eroded in earlier times. The reader can only despair at the luckless twist of fate that ended his life on Easter Monday, 1917. Having courageously weathered the worst of the Battle of Arras, Thomas emerged from his dug-out and proceeded to light his pipe. A shell passed by him and killed him without contact: it was so close that the blast of air felled him and stopped his heart.

This is a good book; it would possibly have been a great one if a chapter or two could have at least led us to some clues about the marring of a poet's soul.

Get Carter

Apropos of my post The Entertainer, it might be interesting to mention John Osborne regarding the classic British gangster film, Get Carter (1971). In the movie, Osborne plays the role of Cyril Kinnear, the underworld boss who Carter (Michael Caine) suspects of having been instrumental in the death of his brother. We should not be surprised by Osborne's masterly handling of his relatively small but crucial part, as before he hit the big time as author of the play Look Back In Anger he was a jobbing actor who had been treading the boards in most of the country's repertory theatres. Here, fifteen years later, his contribution proves that he never lost the touch.

Yet the director of Get Carter, Mike Hodges, thought he had blundered big time in casting Osborne when filming commenced. Osborne was playing things so quietly that he was convincing Hodges he was completely on the wrong track. He was almost inaudible. But Hodges stuck with it, bringing the camera in closer and closer. And the more Osborne underplayed the role, the more sinister he became. In John Heilpern's outstanding biography John Osborne, A Patriot For Us, Hodges classes the performance as 'extraordinary'.

This film, of course, is packed with top-notch performances. Caine, in his element as a hard-man in relentless pursuit of his unsavoury prey, puts in what is arguably the greatest turn of his career. He is backed to the hilt with support from staunch, established stars such as Ian Hendry, George Sewell, Brian Mosely and Britt Ekland. John Bindon, a specialist in tough-guy roles both in film and television, puts in an early appearance and helps to set the tone in his inimitable style. And many may be interested to note the film debut of Alun Armstrong in the role of young Keith. Armstrong went on to forge a strong acting career, with major roles in films such as Braveheart and the television series New Tricks and Garrow's Law.

But Get Carter, of course, belongs to Michael Caine. For this vehicle to have become what many regard as the greatest British gangster film of all time, the leading man was compelled to play a blinder. Few would dare to to suggest that he missed his mark.

Munnings

I first saw a framed print of The Horse Fair, 1904 by Sir Alfred Munnings hanging in a dark recess of my local pub back in 1990. I used to look at it every time I went in, such was my admiration for it. Four years later, on a visit to the Cotswolds, I was thumbing through a set of prints in an gift shop and there it was (well, another copy of it), and I knew I had to have it. It was probably the best twenty quid or so I ever spent as I never get tired of looking at it. One day I hope to visit Castle House in Dedham, where a lot of the Munnings originals are. To see the Horse Fair original, oil on canvas 30" x 50", would be something else. But what about the man himself? What about this equine-loving artist who had earned himself a knighthood out of his own raw talent?
There is a very good book available, written by Jean Goodman, called 'A J, The Life of Alfred Munnings 1878-1959'. It's all in there, if you want to know about one of the great English eccentrics and loose cannons of the art world. If you like art and horses, you'll love it. But the man himself . . . therein lies the real entertainment.

Book Review: The Fears of Henry IV (Ian Mortimer)

Ian Mortimer always seems to write in a style that is refreshingly relaxed, and this attribute enables him to draw the interest of the reader into his work immediately. History can be a dour and testing road to travel even for the most ardent of enthusiasts, and it is quite a skill to make that road an easier one to tread.
Indeed, Mortimer has the knack of entertaining while at the same time informing. It's a winning way of getting the hard facts across. The replacement on the throne in 1399 of Richard II by Henry Bolingbroke was a critical turning point in the nation's history. In this highly recommended book, the reasons for and the consequences of the stunning usurpation could hardly have been put before us in a more appetising or competent manner.

All quiet on the Bosworth front

It all seems to have gone rather quiet on the Bosworth front. It is almost two years since 'the real battlefield' was revealed to the world. Since then we have had precious little news about any new finds or much needed proof that the experts are correct about their conclusions. It seems faintly ironic that all the new work being done is on the 'old' site, namely Ambion Hill and the Visitors Centre. Unless and until there is more to come from the Fenn Lanes location, scepticism has more than a right to hold sway.

For more on this topic, please see my blogsite 'Flames in the sand'. (Pic: Richard III's standard on Ambion Hill)