Philip Ziegler (1929–2023)

This text has no introduction, and no stated intent (curiously, it is prefaced by an explanation of 1969’s decimalization). Its form is that of a conventional biographical account of the publisher’s life, from his birth in 1907 to his death in 1999. As the picture of Rupert Hart-Davis develops he becomes less and less likeable, and it becomes harder to believe in him as the “man of letters” of the title. Anti-intellectual, incurious and jingoistic, Hart-Davis believed that “Wogs show more began at Calais: they had done so when he was at Balliol and would continue to do so until any travel was beyond him.” What is perhaps more unpleasant is the author’s apparent sympathy for these sentiments; his lack of acknowledgement that some readers might find this xenophobia unattractive. Less prominent but equally unappealing is the submerged strand of misogyny that runs below the surface of the narrative, from the blame accrued by his mother Sibbie for Hart-Davis’ childhood illness through the later accounts of his four marriages and various other liaisons with women. Likeability aside, this is a perfectly competent and readable biography of a man who made a handful of significant contributions to publishing in his time, and who had some famous friends. In the final passage of the book, Ziegler reflects on Hart-Davis’ legacy. He complains that the Times obituary, in calling Hart-Davis’ tastes “strikingly middle-brow”, has missed the point: Rupert was “neither an intellectual nor a daring innovator”, says Ziegler, “nor would he have wished to be remembered as such.” On the whole, the same could be said of this book. show less

Sir Osbert Sitwell (1892-1969), 5th Baronet, was a minor British writer, most associated with the 1920s and 30s, one of the Sitwell writing family. A second-tier figure in English literature, he published poetry, novels and travel books, but he is most remembered today for his multi-volume autobiography, a classic of the nostalgic memoir genre. Here in this well-written study he receives the full biographical treatment that would have been accorded a major writer.

Philip Ziegler is a show more sympathetic but firm assessor of Sir Osbert's life and work, always plausible in his judgements, and ever alert to the nuances of a complex and multi-faceted personality. He is sensitive in dealing with Osbert's long repressed homosexuality. The writer never "came out" and certainly would have been appalled to see his private affairs discussed publicly. But everyone "knew". Sir Osbert lived for almost forty years with a younger man, David Horner, a distant relative of the notorious "Little Jack Horner" of literary fame. They travelled everywhere together, shared interests, were nearly inseparable. But ultimately they grew tired of one another, and it was sad to read how their relationship fizzled out amidst bitterness and recrimination.

But really, Osbert's most important relationship was with his older sister, Edith. They were both poets; she was a better one, and he knew it. Together - with their younger brother Sachevererll - they comprised one of the most eccentric families in English literature. show less

It is a grievous ornament that breaks out in a rash. - Jeuan Gethin

Philip Ziegler penned a spectacular survey of the 14th century disaster which could've flipped the human lights off permanently. Okay, maybe not extinguish, but certainly a long-lasting dimming was a possibility. This is a splendid book, one which steadily recognizes the limitations of history. Ziegler also prodded me again to finally read Bocaccio.

What did happen during that terrible pestilence of 1348 and 1349? Well, show more likely 40 percent (or more) of Europe died. People blamed Jehova, eathquakes (releasing the miasma) and with lethal certainty, the Jews. Feudalism continued its shuffle off-stage, conditions may have improved for peasants. The church saw its foundations wobble. Fanaticism also spiked. Those who concretely link the Plague with Peasants Rebellions and the Reformation are taking shortcuts, which is understandable. Ziegler's work is one of conjecture and doubt. There is simply so little which can be verified. I suppose the wisdom of the Black Death is that Shit Happens. show less

A very readable account of the experiences of mostly ordinary Londoners during the war. The Blitz looms large, of course, but also covered are the run up to war being declared, the phony war, the sense of ennui many Londoners felt when nothing was happening, the Little Blitz of early 1944, the V1 and V2 attacks and the sometimes shaky return to normality. Never less than a fascinating read full of anecdotes and real life observations.