More Blair. At a crucial point in my rise to power, and perhaps as a complement to imagining my own rise to power on the death of the party leader, I drew sustenance from fucking my wife.
…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 … 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. I was exhilarated, afraid and determined in roughly equal quantities."
He’s a primitive creature when you get right down to it, for all that he’s larded with courtiers. Perhaps he gives them a blank slate.
I don't suppose Alistair wrote that bit?
Posted by: ejh | September 03, 2010 at 07:34 AM
Having done pretty much the same to Britain as he did to Cherie, no wonder he now looks so permanently shagged out.
I can't help feeling Sarah Palin is a female equivalent.
Where do they dig these people up? An American Werewolf in London.
Posted by: johnf | September 03, 2010 at 07:46 AM
Incidentally, has anyone gone through this book and written down the starting word of each chapter yet?
If it turns out to read "UP YOURS GORDON YOU KNOW YOU WERE NEVER AS GOOD AS I WAS" then I might actually think slightly more kindly of Mr Tony.
Posted by: ajay | September 03, 2010 at 09:03 AM
Pages 62-67 of Blair's book, surrounding the death of John Smith, is just sex sex sex. Jamie has quoted the highlight, but within a two or three pages either side we have Blair telling Mandelson he loves him, Blair fantasising about "mastering" Gordon Brown by beating him in a leadership election, this bit about Cherie, and then his reminiscences about his first girlfriend and the "incredible outpouring of desire" she inspired in him. The rest of it (well, I'm only on p. 529) isn't like this at all.
Posted by: Chris Brooke | September 03, 2010 at 10:07 AM
By the way, Jamie, Blair (p. 550) reports Prince Philip saying to Joan Walley that Stoke is a "ghastly place".
Posted by: Chris Brooke | September 03, 2010 at 10:59 AM
And, dear gods, the prose, the prose...
Posted by: Alex | September 03, 2010 at 11:21 AM
Prince Philip is not altogether wrong, though obviously he's the last person you want to hear it from.
Yeah, the prose makes me think that he really didn't have a ghostwriter. i don;t think any self-respecting artisan wordsmith would have let that through.
Posted by: jamie | September 03, 2010 at 11:48 AM
Yes - the more I read, the more I think this is real Blair, not ghosted Blair.
Posted by: Chris Brooke | September 03, 2010 at 11:50 AM
This is a case where the phrase "reading it so you don't have to" really does apply.
Posted by: Alex | September 03, 2010 at 12:07 PM
I have to admit that Chris's tweeting pushed me over the edge into buying the damn thing. He's making it sound like the most fascinating thing in how it reveals Tony Blair's hidden shallows.
Posted by: Richard J | September 03, 2010 at 12:08 PM
>And, dear gods, the prose, the prose...
Pure Jeffrey Archer.
Posted by: johnf | September 03, 2010 at 01:58 PM
Chris's tweeting pushed me over the edge into buying the damn thing.
Chris' tweeting pushed me over the edge into signing up for Twitter. I swore I'd never (etc etc etc)
Posted by: ejh | September 03, 2010 at 05:21 PM
His shallows weren't awfully well hidden though, were they. Now his intellectual insecurity is interesting. Especially given that Gordon Brown is an intellectual powerhouse in comparison.
Posted by: cian | September 03, 2010 at 05:54 PM
Remember also, that by 1.30pm on the day that Smith died, the Blairite line* was "It's got to be Blair - Brown can't do it because he's gay." Sex sex sex, all the way.
*As purveyed by a little squit called Liam Gureki.
Posted by: Chris Williams | September 05, 2010 at 05:16 PM