Harold At War
May. 20th, 2021 11:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poliphiloI continue trudging through the Nicolson diaries. Contrary to expectation the war years turn out to be rather dull. Harold may have been at the heart of things- in parliament and at the BBC- but he wasn't very much better informed about events than the man in the street. He see-saws between elation and despondency and eats lots of meals with political and military luminaries whose names no longer ring a bell. He doesn't like de Gaulle but continues to admire Churchill- whom he admits to seeing as "the God of War".
The record generally livens up whenever Churchill puts in an appearance. Harold's admiration is never uncritical; he doesn't pretend to be enthused by the occasional underpowered or mis-firing prime ministerial speech and concedes that the great man's critics often have a point. No matter: he is convinced- and never falters in his conviction- that Churchill is the right- perhaps the only- man for the job.
Here is Churchill observed in November 1942, at a dull Downing Street luncheon to which Harold has been invited:
"Winston stops talking to Lady Kitty and gazes round the table with curious eyes. They are glaucous and look dead. When he gazes at people like that, there is no light either of interest or surprise in his eyes. There is a faint expression of surprise, as if he were asking, 'What the hell is this man doing here?' There is a faint faint expression of angered indignation, as if he were saying, 'What damned cheek coming to luncheon here!' There is a mask of boredom and another mask or film of obstinacy, as if he were saying,these people bore me and I shall refuse to be polite.' And with it all, there are films of stubbornness, perhaps even a film of deep inner thought. It is very disconcerting. Then he will suddenly cease thinking of something else, and the film will part and the sun comes out. His eyes then pucker with amusement or flash with anger. At moments they have a tragic look. Yet these moods and phases do not flash across each other; they move slowly and opaquely like newts in a rather dim glass tank."
The record generally livens up whenever Churchill puts in an appearance. Harold's admiration is never uncritical; he doesn't pretend to be enthused by the occasional underpowered or mis-firing prime ministerial speech and concedes that the great man's critics often have a point. No matter: he is convinced- and never falters in his conviction- that Churchill is the right- perhaps the only- man for the job.
Here is Churchill observed in November 1942, at a dull Downing Street luncheon to which Harold has been invited:
"Winston stops talking to Lady Kitty and gazes round the table with curious eyes. They are glaucous and look dead. When he gazes at people like that, there is no light either of interest or surprise in his eyes. There is a faint expression of surprise, as if he were asking, 'What the hell is this man doing here?' There is a faint faint expression of angered indignation, as if he were saying, 'What damned cheek coming to luncheon here!' There is a mask of boredom and another mask or film of obstinacy, as if he were saying,
these people bore me and I shall refuse to be polite.' And with it all, there are films of stubbornness, perhaps even a film of deep inner thought. It is very disconcerting. Then he will suddenly cease thinking of something else, and the film will part and the sun comes out. His eyes then pucker with amusement or flash with anger. At moments they have a tragic look. Yet these moods and phases do not flash across each other; they move slowly and opaquely like newts in a rather dim glass tank."
no subject
Date: 2021-05-21 07:16 am (UTC)