Tales from A Journey
Well it looks like the media’s interest in Blair’s A Journey is finally winding down.
Journalists took a predictable tack on the memoirs: some defended Blair’s achievements, some pondered the issue of war crimes, and others took a salacious interest in the Brown vs. Blair revelations. But there was another side to the memoirs that caught my eye; a side that was barely reported at all, save a few fleeting allusions.
That side is best summed up by the Guardian’s Julian Glover, who casually observed, “There are at least three gushing sexual passages, more Mills and Boon than prime ministerial memoir.”
I’m sorry, what? Cherie is on the what, now?
It turns out I was reading Glover correctly: A Journey does indeed have its very own Mills and Boon moments. Well it wouldn’t be the first time the sex life of the Blairs has enjoyed a public outing. The more traumatised of you might remember Cherie’s autobiography explaining that Leo’s conception was due to a lack of ‘contraceptive equipment.’ Equipment? Sister I sympathise: it can be a right pain in the arse to erect that scaffolding when you just want to do the bad thing.
Anyway I digress. I know you’re dying for the detail, so to the sex scenes we shall proceed.
My personal favourite has to be Blair’s recounting of a steamy night of passion between him and Cherie in 1994:
‘that night she cradled me in her arms and soothed me; told me what I needed to be told; strengthened me; made me feel that I was about to do was right…’
Eugh. Suddenly I have a lot more sympathy for sixteen-year-old Euan lying face-down in pool of his own vomit. I mean, the writing style is nauseating enough – let alone the mental images it conjures. Sometimes alcohol is the only appropriate response.
On that night of the 12th May, 1994, I needed that love Cherie gave me, selfishly. I devoured it to give me strength. I was an animal following my instinct, knowing I would need every ounce of emotional power to cope with what lay ahead.
Now maybe I’ve just been watching too much Twilight, but I can’t help inferring a spot of vampirism from this passage. One wonders if it’s an indictment of Blair’s later foreign policy decisions: sucking the essence of others in order to make himself stronger. Hmm…
Even so, I think my favourite bit has to be the following:
I was exhilarated, afraid and determined in roughly equal quantities.
I just like the veiled implication that Blair devoted time to measure the exact quantities of his exhilaration, fear and determination. Wisely, he takes the precaution of including the word ‘roughly,’ as though guarding against any future analyses of such a claim: ‘he said he felt those emotions in equal quantities, but actually, he was feeling at least 40% fear! To the Hague with him!’
Perhaps the first draft included a reference to Blair’s ability to ‘last’ for at least forty-five minutes. We can only wonder…
Oh and if that didn’t induce the level of gastric pyrotechnics you were hoping for, check out this Spectator article.
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Ellie Mae is an occasional contributor. She is co-editor of New Left Project. She is on Twitter and blogs here.
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The funny thing about the sex is that it gets in the way of the politics.
The sex references come thick and fast (as it were), pp. 62-7 or so, which is the bit of the book where Blair is describing things around the time that John Smith died. And this is where what he ought to be doing instead is making a political case for why the New Labour project was worth embarking on, i.e., the project of giving Labour a very sharp push to the right. But instead he writes about sex: he tells Peter Mandelson he loves him, fantasises about “mastering” Gordon Brown, has the sex with Cherie mentioned in this post, and then reminisces about the “incredible outpourings of desire” his first girlfriend inspired in him.
And the absence of that political case is a very striking lacuna in the book. He says a bit earlier that around the early 1990s Labour had hit an electoral ceiling of about 32%. And that’s pretty much the only justification for New Labour that he offers: the old strategy couldn’t get more than a third of the vote, so they had to try something very different. But Labour in 1992 took over 34% of the vote (winning more *votes* than New Labour managed in 2001, 2005 and 2010), Labour had healthy poll leads throughout 1993, and, as the leadership election was taking place, Labour was heading for victory in the 1004 European elections with 44% of the vote.
All apologists for New Labour need to make the case that the Labour Party was not likely to do well, on the trajectory that John Smith had set it on post-1992. Blair doesn’t make that case at all: instead he just lies, and says that Labour had hit an electoral ceiling at 32%.
HELLO
What an interesting analysis @1.
My background is actually in Renaisasnce Literature (not obvious from the clumsy phrasing of my post), and there is actually a whole body of theory which links Macbeth’s tyranny and his…erm… sexual prowess (or possible lack thereof).
I wonder if the same could be applied here? At the very least, Mein Journey is an excellent diet book: one read of those passages and you never want to eat again.
Nice innocuous use of ‘lacuna’ by the way. It’s a great word – snaps.
he tells Peter Mandelson he loves him, fantasises about “mastering” Gordon Brown,
Is that to the sound of duelling banjos or beside a roaring open fire?*
*There is no bonus prize for naming the movies in question.
[4] “women in lo ………… awww
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HNzotei1SNw&feature=related
@1 & @3 – I find it nearly impossible to imagine the marriage of sex and politics. I’m convinced that all so-called sexual ‘scandals’ (which, in reality, are quite mundane) are invented for the purpose of making politicians seem real.
If David Miliband gets elected Labour leader, I will cry sporogenesis…
The poodle’s ramblings are very odd. All the sex, and all the killing, and this from a so called man of God. Funny how the Catholic Church were so keen to take him considering their position on preserving life.
Richard Ingram’s made the point in the Independent that he looked up in the index the word Neocon. There is no entry. Which kind of explains the giant clustefuck. Poodle has taken to referring to himself as ‘the decision maker’ which is always a bad sign.
He struts around telling us that if he had not decided to invade, Saddam would still be in power. ER …no, Tony……. because Bush/Cheney were going to invade with or without you. You were just the patsy.
“The poodle’s ramblings are very odd. All the sex, and all the killing, and this from a so called man of God. Funny how the Catholic Church were so keen to take him considering their position on preserving life.”
Not really. The Church are generally pretty chilled about people being killed. And there’s nothing particularly ungodly about sex, y’know.
“He struts around telling us that if he had not decided to invade, Saddam would still be in power. ER …no, Tony……. because Bush/Cheney were going to invade with or without you. You were just the patsy.”
Bang on.
I was exhilarated, afraid and determined in roughly equal quantities.
That is hilariously bad.
Blair on Brown:
Our minds moved fast and at that point in sync. When others were present, we felt the pace and power diminish, until, a bit like lovers desperate to get to love-making but disturbed by old friends dropping round, we would try to bustle them out, steering them doorwards with a hearty slap on the back.
Tony Blair, responding to a “five times a night?” inquiry from the Sun, confessed: “At least. I can do it more, depending how I feel.”
anyone but me think it’s less mills and boon, more late C19th novel-which-talks-about-sex-but-doesn’t?
the thing feels curiously censored to me.
We should bear in mind that “politicians are obliged from time to time to conceal the full truth, to bend it, and even distort it…”
there is actually a whole body of theory which links Macbeth’s tyranny and his…erm… sexual prowess
Well, staying off the sex for a moment, there was that nice remark Michael White once relayed in tehgraun from an unnamed Labour MP, during Gordon Brown’s ill-starred premiership:
*** Brown is a Shakespearian tragedy in the making, says one MP: Othello’s jealousy, Hamlet’s indecision, the futile rage of Lear and Brutus’s weakness for bad advice. “But at least we’ve got rid of the Macbeths.” ***
“politicians are obliged from time to time to conceal the full truth, to bend it, and even distort it”
No!
Joking aside, though, I’m not too bothered that they do this. At least when it comes to personal lives and private conversations. I know I’m hardly quoting the greats here, but watch Liar Liar for a demonstration of the fresh hell we’d be in if everyone was completely honest.
‘that night she cradled me in her arms and soothed me; told me what I needed to be told; strengthened me; made me feel that I was about to do was right…’
what have a shag, Jesus if she needs to do that just to get sex ,I’d look to see if Rooney is available. he is in to older ladies.
Blair wants to be seen as the working mans man, he talks about sex because we all buy the sun rush to the toilet ,page three and work off the pressure.
never mind it does not work for me I lost my interest in sex in 1990 with my spinal; injury, I want to know is why he joined the Labour party, but then again I know that as well
Funny how the Catholic Church were so keen to take him considering their position on preserving life.
They’re very, er, catholic in that regard. I mean, it’s not like he approved an abortion to save the life of a pregnant woman, is it?
There’s another review here for those who are interested, and it’s not good: http://www.suite101.com/content/tony-blairs-a-journey-a283204
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