Alan Bennett, The uncommon reader

Light with bite is how I would describe Alan Bennett‘s delightful novella The uncommon reader. But, before I explain that further, a quick plot summary for those few who haven’t come across it. It explores what happens when Queen Elizabeth II stumbles across a mobile library on the palace grounds and becomes obsessed with books and reading. Bennett cheekily suggests what the impact might be on her family, staff and the politicians around her when reading becomes not only something she wants to do all the time (instead of her work) but also results in her starting to think and question.

One of the delightful things about the novel is that it can be read on several levels from the straight (a sweet story about the current English Queen discovering the thrill of reading late in her life) through the contemplative (a meditation on readers, reading and the value of literature) to the satirical (an expose of life in the palace, and more broadly of politics and those involved in the political process).

Take for example, reading. The Queen (in the book) says that: “Books are not about passing the time. They’re about other lives. Other worlds.” Fair enough, we all agree with that I’d say. But then there’s this, again from our newly enlightened reading Queen: “Books generally just confirm you in what you have, perhaps unwittingly, decided to do already. You go to a book to have your convictions corroborated. A book as it were closes the book.” Hmmm…Bennett’s Queen is one clever (and scary) lady!

Jokes at the expense of palace officials, politics and politicians abound. Nothing really new here but they are proffered with a light touch. The Queen, now talking about writing her own book, says “To enquire into the evidence for something on which you have already decided is the unacknowledged premise of every public enquiry, surely?” on which the Prime Minister thinks to himself “If this was to be the tone of what the Queen was planning to write there was no telling what she was going to say. ‘I think you would do better just to tell your story, ma’am'”.

This is no sentimental tale, but neither is it completely cynical (though some could see it that way). Sly is perhaps the best word to describe its ability to engage us with the humanity of the characters while skewering them and their (our) world at the same time. However, I won’t go on, except to say that the ironies, word play and allusions evident in the title give a clue to what is inside – and yet it can be read and enjoyed whether or not you pick up all, some or none of them. I’m sure I missed my share. But that’s okay, as I would be more than happy to read it again.

Alan Bennett
The uncommon reader
London: Faber and Faber, 2007
124pp
ISBN: 9781846680496

Note: I originally posted this on my reading group’s site but, since one of my online groups will be discussing this in the next quarter, I decided to post it over here too as a record of my current reading and discussions.

HL Mencken, The nature of liberty

I’ve said it before, and I’ll probably say it again: I am enjoying being introduced to classic American writers of whom I’ve heard but not read through the Library of America. This week it is HL Mencken, and you can read his satirical piece, “The nature of liberty” (1920), online at LOA. Mencken (1880-1956), according to the brief introductory notes that always accompany these LOA stories, was a highly popular figure in post World War 1 America*. The Library writes that this popularity gave him the freedom to write on subjects that no-one else would: he “supported woman suffrage, promoted African American authors, and championed the contribution of immigrants to American society. He inveighed against censorship, corruption, police brutality, the Ku Klux Klan, and (above all) Prohibition“. Well, I thought, this sounds like an interesting man.

And so, I read “The nature of liberty”. It is essentially a satirical essay on the limits of liberty, on the way the Bill of Rights has been “kneaded and mellowed” through the legislature and judiciary, on the tension between a person’s liberty and the law (aka the state). The example he uses is the use of violence by police. He imagines the story of an innocent citizen who resists arrest and is beaten, then arrested and investigated by the police. He shows how, once that citizen is proven innocent, the citizen’s rights of redress are severely limited because all those involved (police, detective, watchman) acted within the law. There is only one right that the citizen has, he says

…and the courts have jealously guarded it. You have a clear right, guaranteed under the Constitution, to go into a court of equity and apply for a mandamus requiring the Polizei to cease forthwith to expose your portrait in the Rogues’ Gallery among the murderers. This is your inalienable right…

The satire is obvious throughout the essay – but you can see it here, particularly in the use of emotive terms such as “Polizei” and “Rogues’ Gallery”, and legalese such as mandamus. At the beginning of the essay, he ridicules the Civil Libertarians, with whom he patently sympathises, as follows:

…the same fanatics who shake the air with sobs every time the Postmaster-General of the United States bars a periodical from the mails because its ideas do not please him, and every time Russian is deported for reading Karl Marx, and every time a Prohibition enforcement officer murders a bootlegger who resists his levies …

Mencken very effectively shows, in this essay, how “rights” can be so regulated that the ordinary citizen ends up, in effect, with few. Those of us living in the era of “the war against terror” are only too aware of how quickly rights can be eroded in the name of the “common good”, in which the rights of individuals can be overridden in the blink of an eye.

Mencken was a passionate libertarian. He was critical of democracy, seeing it as inherently paradoxical, and of course, as a libertarian, he disliked socialism. And yet, we are social beings who live in groups, and we therefore need to balance individual liberties against the needs of the group. Earlyish in the essay, he comments that the Bill of Rights “specified the rights of a citizen, but it said nothing whatever about his duties”.  This issue of “duties” is mentioned and then dropped. I wonder, for all the satire, what his attitude was to “duties” and the degree to which these “duties” might impinge upon individual freedoms? But that, I think, is a discussion for another day … perhaps via another LOA essay.

*He was apparently also the inspiration for Anita Loos’ Gentlemen prefer blondes!

George Jean Nathan, Baiting the umpire

I haven’t posted on the last few Library of America stories, mainly due to lack of time and the fact that they’ve been by well-known writers anyhow. However, the one that lobbed in this week, “Baiting the umpire” by George Jean Nathan, looked rather intriguing and so I read it. It is really an essay, but a satirical one, rather than a short story – and is about the “sport” of baseball.

According to the accompanying notes, George Jean Nathan (1882-1958) was an “acerbic theater critic” and worked, for some time at least, with “his partner in venom” H.L. Mencken.

Mad baseball player

Mad baseball player (Courtesy: OCAL, clker.com)

The essay starts with describing baseball as the “national side-show” and argues that “baiting umpires is the real big-tent entertainment”.  Using word play, hyperbole, rhetorical questions and mock-heroic comparisons (equating baseball with a Spanish bullfight and likening the “bleachers”/spectators to matadors, and in a cultural leap equating baseball promoters with Solons), Nathan goes on to suggest that the only reason Americans enjoy baseball is for the “sport” of baiting (“killing”) the umpire. He provides examples of countries where baseball hadn’t (we are talking 1909 here) taken off, such as Japan, and suggests that the reason for this is that the Japanese accept the umpire’s rulings!

In Australia, however, and here my ears picked up, he said they went about introducing baseball the right way:

In Victoria, Australia, where a determined effort is being made to popularize baseball, the prime movers in the campaign, appreciating full well the important and necessary relation that killing-the-umpire bears to the game, have tried the novel experiment of working up the hostile spirit towards the referee by playing the baseball contests – all or in part – before the huge football crowds. These crowds are demonstrative in the extreme, and it is hoped by the baseball promoters that part of the excess football emotional tumult may, in time, be directed against the umpires, thus insuring the success of the game…

Hmmm…well, 100 years later baseball is, I know, played here but I’m not sure to the extent that you’d call it a success. Maybe our football crowds decided they liked something more to their games than simply baiting the umpire! In fact, from my own admittedly superficial experience, I think it is a more popular game in polite Japan than it is here. His other example of a surefire success for baseball is the Sandwich Islands where … well, that will give away the punchline and I don’t want to do that. Read it … it’s short and will give you a chuckle if nothing else.

Meanwhile, I will conclude with one little observation. As an Australian, I have always been bemused by the notion of World Series baseball in which the only teams playing are from the USA and Canada. Now that would have been an interesting topic for Nathan to explore!