Category: notes from JK

Public Servant, Private Woman – Dame Alix Meynell

Reading the history of women entering the UK civil service on Martin Stanley’s excellent website civilservant.org.uk led me to looking up this book. I couldn’t get it through my library, so found a copy for £3 online, and to my delight it turned out to be signed by the author!

Along with Dame Evelyn Sharp, the author passed the civil service exams in 1925 - the first year women were allowed to sit them. Unmarried women had been allowed to work as secretaries and typists but not in the ‘officer class’ as Alix explains it. The sections in the book on how Alix, Evelyn and others campaigned for fair treatment, equal pay and more are fascinating and awful – to my mind it’s just so dire that they had to make their case before committees of men determining whether women were capable of ‘being a wife and working’ and so on. Thankfully we’ve come a long way, but a way more to go, including on fair pay.

Alix had an extraordinary life and is admirably open and reflective. She lived by ‘Bloomsbury values’ which we might call consensual non-monogamy these days, with added focus on the arts. Her openness regarding sex, difficulties seeking contraception, how having children might have affected her career and navigating social expectations regarding marriage versus the values she wanted to live by are ever so powerful.

In terms of the actual daily work, her civil service experiences in the Board of Trade, war rationing aside, didn’t sound too different from my own in the very department which now includes the Board of Trade. Though I am very glad that Saturday morning working has since been ditched!

I was left admiring someone who clearly valued public service, lived life to the full and always tried to do what they felt was right. Her social life sounds exhausting to me but it does make for a fun read.

Politics on the Edge – Rory Stewart

As a civil servant I won’t be commenting on the politics in this excellent read, except to say that Rory does not hold back in this book, so any political reconciliation with his former party seems unlikely. As with Alix Meynell’s book, the reader is all the better for his openness.

The sections on his experiences as a minister and working with the civil service are fascinating. As a former civil servant himself, it’s interesting to observe him try a variety of techniques to achieve the outcomes he seeks. It is with prisons one gets the sense he made the most progress and had the greatest satisfaction. It was also one that resonated with me, it read like the best officer-member partnerships I’d experienced in local government. There is something hard to define, but incredibly effective, when the political and official parts of a public organisation align with mutual respect and common goals.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow – Gabrielle Zevin

A wonderfully written novel which focusses on the story of a boy and a girl who, through their own difficult experiences, bond while playing video games together. As they grow up, they drift in and out of each other’s lives while writing ever more ambitious, and sometimes successful games.

This is a story about friendship and gaming as well as growing up belonging to multiple identities. For example Sam, the lead male character is half Korean-half American; while the lead female Sadie is Jewish from a wealthy part of LA but more comfortable in the world of MIT and Harvard in Massachusetts. These tensions lead to some wonderful observations. And lots of nice gaming nostalgia, connections to Shakespeare (the title is a quote from Macbeth) and fun East coast vs West coast references.

I can’t remember why I put this book on my list, but I’m so glad I did. Brilliantly written with a really heartfelt narrative. Bravo.

My Lives – Sir Francis Meynell

My curiosity was piqued by Alix Meynell’s autobiography, so I managed to track down her late husband’s own autobiography thanks to the wonder that is inter-library loans. Thank you Buckinghamshire County Library for your copy which arrived in Tunbridge Wells still carrying its musty smell of old paper and memories.

Francis Meynell was not nearly as open in his book, published 17 years before his wife’s. He was dead by the time she wrote hers, which may have meant she felt free to be as frank and open as she was. Or it may have been his style. On divorcing his first two wives he is quite curt, while admitting failings, he really fails to offer the reader much insight into himself or those relationships let alone the other romantic entanglements he alludes to.

So one isn’t going to get huge insight into the emotional life of Francis Meynell, other than his obvious adoration for Alix Meynell. Still, my goodness there are good stories to be had. He isn’t shy of some name dropping as he regales us of his “many lives”:

A staunch pacifist and conscientious objector in the First World War, a CND supporter in later life but a strong advocate of Winston Churchill and the Allies in World War Two who played a fascinating role in food rationing and other elements of the war effort.

A radical socialist and erstwhile communist who ended up with a Knighthood. A poet and journalist who also smuggled jewellery from Denmark to Britain to support early socialist groups. Someone who helped market films for the biggest studios of the day. A key player in the creation of the left-wing Daily Record which would eventually become known as The Sun. A renown typographer and designer who created the Nonesuch Press and partied with radicals, yet helped with the design of the stationery for Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation.

His was a life full of stories, adventures and lucky breaks. As he tells it, there is no sense of hypocrisy or a loss of values, it’s a natural journey into the establishment as he keeps learning and finding new opportunities. He was a man of his time, not aware of all his privilege, yet passionate about women’s rights, social justice and creating a welfare state. I certainly got more out of the book having read Public Servant, Private Woman first. A reminder of how many interesting paths our lives can take.

Four Thousands Weeks – Oliver Burkeman

This is good, really good but I think you need to be in the right headspace to read it. I can imagine having read this a few years ago and not getting half what I got from it now, with six years of therapy under my belt.

It’s written with a beautiful kindness and gentleness whilst exploring mortality, the meaning of work, why productivity hacks fail and how to be kinder to oneself. I found it very powerful. In particular a chapter called ‘Cosmic Insignificance Therapy’ which argues for a modestly meaningful life rather than the ‘great person’ theory.

Normal People – Sally Rooney

I don’t think I’ve ever read a book and watched a screen adaptation that were both so good, so similar and yet complementary. Perhaps Sally Rooney’s involvement in the screen adaptation is why they seem so consistent with each other. A lovely coming of age story following an on/off/on romance in a small Irish town as they leave school and move to Dublin for university. Amazingly written dialogue and an engaging narrative style.

Our Man In Havana – Graham Greene

I feel I am long overdue in trying some Greene, who is often referenced as an inspiration for Le Carré. This satire of intelligence services (particularly the British) takes a while to get going. But once it hits its rhythm the pacing, story and characters are brilliantly brought to a scathing conclusion.

I watched the Red Sparrow movie back when it came out and something niggled me about it. It was ok but felt like it could have been more. I then learnt it was based on a novel by a genuine CIA veteran. The first book in the trilogy lingered on my list for a while, but as I began to exhaust Le Carre’s to read, I thought I would give it a go.

Well, wow, this was so much better than the movie. (Aren’t they always?!) Other than all the necessary narrative trimming for film, I think the key element the script-writers left out for Jennifer Lawrence’s portrayal of Dominika Egorova was her synesthesia. In the books Egorova can see people’s emotions as coloured halos, giving her an advantage whilst also adding a fascinating twist to how the books can portray key moments of tension.

Ultimately the trilogy is a love story, an incredible portrayal of a female double agent operating in Putin’s Russia and a passionate defence of human intelligence operatives aka spies. Matthews knows of what he writes, and it shows with so many details of techniques and locations that clearly aren’t just pulled together from a quick visit via Google.

As a 30 year CIA veteran, it’s no surprise he plays the Americans as the good guys, but this is no Tom Clancy black v white: FBI agents fumble and fail, as do SVB ones. The CIA’s upper echelons are filled with incompetent bureaucrats as much as the Kremlin has kleptocrats.

The horrible trade-offs the characters have to make for the greater good, the knife-edge risks they carry to survive whilst trying to live and love were compelling and moving. It took real skill from the author to portray sex being used as a weapon of spy craft, yet at other times being genuinely loving without ever becoming cringeworthy.

This is a rich, powerful series of books that had me stunned and sleepless by the time I finished the final instalment. Sadly Jason Matthews is no longer with us, so we will read no more of the incredible Agent Egorova aka Red Sparrow.

For some reason I haven’t much felt like doing these reading notes this year, in fact it’s almost exactly a year to the day since my last one. Interesting.

I’ve read more John Le Carré (no surprises there) as I seek whatever I haven’t yet read of his. I thoroughly enjoyed Jason Matthews’ Red Sparrow trilogy, far better than the film of the first book, FAR better. Elizabeth Day’s Magpie was wonderful. Charles Arthur’s Social Warming was a stand-out piece of non-fiction I’ve read. Read it and follow his emails.

Taste – Stanley Tucci

I was utterly besotted with Tucci’s Searching for Italy TV series. He is so charming and endearingly passionate about food in the land of his ancestors. Taste is a memoir which weaves together drinks, food, showbiz eating and rather touching family stories as well as a hilarious snapshot of his family life in lockdown and a tough read on his cancer treatment. Brilliant stuff, and some lovely recipes in there too.

Agent Sonya – Ben Macintyre

Even if you’ve never read Macintyre’s wonderful books, you’ve probably watched an adaptation of them, he’s everywhere these days. And it’s easy to tell way – he researches great historical tales with dedication and writes them up with gusto. He’s really having a great time telling us about them, and it’s catchy. This story of Soviet agent Sonya, a German Jewish communist from a wealthy background is just riveting and astonishing on so many levels. How a woman came to be a top spy in a man’s world. How she raised three children whilst undertaking extraordinary missions and travels. And how she managed to evade detection for so long. Another great Macintyre read.

How Westminster Works… and Why It Doesn’t — Ian Dunt

I think pretty much every section of this book is broadly right in its analysis. It’s also a fun read. Everyone should read it. Indeed much of what it suggests as positive steps forward have been recommendations in recent reports by numerous reviews. Let’s hope some get taken forward.

As with many friends and acquaintances I found reading hard at the start of lockdown. After a couple of months I seemed to regain my appetite so here’s what I’ve got through. I’m missing libraries now…

Three Women – Lisa Taddeo

Powerful, brave, searing, brutal. This really is a masterpiece. Written with such beauty and clarity. Some of the sentences took my breath away. 

Nobody is normal. Nothing is ordinary. These are easily said but by delving into three women’s lives in crystalline detail we learn something essential about the American woman’s experience in the 2010s. About desire, about expectation, how men and women treat each other. About the guilt and doubt imposed through one’s own thoughts of what being a good parent or partner or friend should be. 

Some may balk at the very explicit details shared from each woman’s sexual experience in this book. But as a frank expose of love and desire it only works with that level of detail. 

Truly a masterful piece of work. 

Daniel – Henning Mankell

Beautiful, heart breaking. Perspective on how we are so easily drawn into exceptionalism for our culture, language, race and way of life. And how good intentions can cause harm if we don’t respect the agency of individuals. 

To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee

It’s a classic, and rightfully so. I had never read it. Now I have, and I’m glad. Powerful and beautiful. Still so relevant.

The Cat Who Liked Rain – Henning Mankell

In my obsession with Henning Mankell I’m now even reading this story he wrote for children. It’s a beautiful piece on childhood and loss – about a treasured cat going missing. I really loved it. It’s beautiful, sensitive and comforting in how it’s set in a very normal family.

The World According to Star Wars – Cass Sunstein

A book on what Star Wars can teach us about constitutional law, democracy and family relationships? Yes, yes and yes. Even better, it’s brilliant fun. Renowned scholar Cass Sunstein absolutely sparkles in this book where he swoops through what George Lucas’ creative process teaches us about life, how the Force relates to religion and why parents should watch Star Wars with their kids. I absolutely adored this book, it’s a real quirky gem. But I do have one bone to pick – Sunstein claims that no knowledge nor affinity for Star Wars is needed to enjoy the book. I disagree, it will make little sense if you haven’t watched all the films at least once. Indeed on reading the book I found great pleasure in re-watching them all again with new insight. Just a wonderful, unusual book from a brilliant mind.

When I Die – Phillip Gould

A short, searing book told mostly from the personal perspective of political strategist Phillip Gould as he is diagnosed with and ultimately dies from cancer. It’s emotional, wrenching at points but deeply worthwhile. This is clearly a man who loved his family, but also had a huge appetite for his work and politics. Once can sense the battles within him as he suspects his work ethic may have contributed to his illness, and threatens to distract him from precious, now definitely finite, time with his family. He mostly stays true to what he identifies as the purpose for his illness: To share the experience in a direct and moving way, to help others and change how we talk about death and dying. And of course to have the conversations and time he needs to have with those closest to him. The book closes with messages from his family and close friends. He achieved his purpose and something more. A wonderful book.

In fiction:

Women – Charles Bukowski
Brutal, unrelenting, salacious and disturbing and points. It feels incredibly real, even if it is a life one would never want to live, one feels privileged that somebody was able to capture a slice of LA lowlife as eloquently and with grit as Bukowski did.  

Agent Running in the Field – John Le Carré
There are few authors so consistently good as Le Carré. I feel completely inadequate in the presence of his writing, how can he be so good? As with the great Henning Mankell, Le Carré has a talent that borders on magic: Writing gripping tales that also expose the great issues of our time in new and powerful ways. This is what great fiction writing should do – help us grow, learn and feel in ways we could never otherwise do. It’s another masterpiece.