Spectator Life

I had been kicking my heels in a dusty two-star hotel on a dual carriageway in Leon, central Mexico, for days. One afternoon, I spotted a battered old English language hardback in a junk shop window: Under the Volcano by Malcolm Lowry.  I had read the book before, half a lifetime ago, in maybe 1985, when I knew nothing about Mexico, failed relationships or alcoholism. Almost 40 years later, with a more than working knowledge of all three, I felt better placed to appreciate Lowry's 1947 masterpiece. With nothing else to do or read, I bought it. I haggled the shopkeeper down to 100 pesos – about £4. Barely 24 intense hours later – the same time span that the novel unfolds in – I had finished it. Or had it finished me?

Do kids still have hobbies? Maybe hobbies isn’t quite the right word. What I mean is a passionate interest in something fairly adult, something more than playing with toys. For example, a child might get precociously into theatre or birdwatching or medieval history and have a first taste of adult enthusiasm for something. I was into magic, meaning conjuring tricks. This seemed the most interesting thing about the world, the clear pinnacle of its complicated cultural array. Why wasn’t everyone fascinated by the fact that it was possible to perform acts of seeming wizardry? The magic bug bit me when I was about 11 – who knows why. Maybe it was my uncle doing a card trick, maybe Paul Daniels on television, maybe a basic magic set someone gave me. I had to know all about it.

Evan Williams has not got as many ‘Saturday horses’ as he once had but he remains a trainer that I like to have on side when he targets some of the bigger handicaps. The form of his stable, with the Cheltenham Festival less than a month away, is good and he had a double at Hereford earlier this week with horses priced at 17-2 and 6-1. I am hoping he might have a winner or two at Ascot tomorrow as well because he brings two of his decent handicappers to the Berkshire course from his base in the Vale of Glamorgan, South Wales. PATRIOTIK, who will be ridden by the trainer’s daughter Isabel, bumped into a well-handicapped horse last time in the shape of Red Dirt Road.

My mother hated Motherland, storming out after five minutes, saying Julia’s frantic school drop-off was too much like real life. She’d have loathed Amanda, the self-styled ‘alpha mum’. But I loved it – and was happy with the spin-off Amandaland, where Dame Joanna Lumley plays Amanda’s mother with gleeful froideur. When interviewed alongside her screen daughter, Lucy Punch, Lumley commented that one of the reasons for their characters’ taut relationship is how ageing women are resentful of their pretty daughters. Maternal envy, being rather destructive for all concerned, has provoked much debate in the papers (and no doubt consternation at dinner parties across Middle England).

The Michelin Man is in trouble. In fact, his job is on the line. For 125 years, the Michelin Man, real name Bibendum, has been the face of the Michelin Guide: a coveted series of publications that award restaurants for excellence. But last week, news broke that the guide is attempting to reinvent itself in a bid to keep up with the world of online food reviews. Much like an aged B-list celebrity on a serious comedown, the guide is looking towards the internet for validation. In its endeavour to stay relevant, Michelin runs the risk of tarnishing the very thing that has kept it afloat for over a century: its reputation. And without its reputation, the Michelin Man’s next stop won’t be The Ledbury for flame-grilled mackerel – it will be the Jobcentre for a petrol station sandwich.

‘Centrist dad’, a term that has been with us for a decade or so, has never exactly been a compliment. In 2017, even Tony Blair – then still pretty close to being political toxic waste – disavowed the label, declaring: ‘I’m not a centrist dad.’ In that same year a chap named Matt Zarb-Cousin, a spokesman for Jeremy Corbyn – who astonishingly was the leader of the opposition at the time – described centrist dads as ‘middle-aged men who cannot come to terms with the world and politics changing.’ Zarb-Cousin added hubristically: ‘They think they must know better because they are older and wiser.’ (Fortunately the centrist dads did know better, and so did the country, rejecting Corbyn in 2019.

Antique shops are melancholy places. The deep leather armchairs, Anglepoise lamps and bamboo bookshelves. They ask questions: who sat, worked or read using these? Banal questions, possibly, but life is generally banal, and no less poignant for that. It’s not an unpleasant sort of melancholia. Quite the opposite. If I had to create a word to describe the feeling, I’d say it was melanphoria: ‘a state of intense excitement arising from a feeling of deep sadness’. One feels both a nostalgia for the lives of strangers and a sense of life’s possibilities. If this is abnormal, I would ask any amateur psychiatrists to write to The Spectator offices. I am physically unable to go into any antique shop without buying something. It is rarely a grand purchase.

How amusing to hear Steve Coogan and Emily Maitlis pontificate about the dreaded ‘establishment’ on Maitlis’s News Agents podcast recently. During a discussion about Coogan’s role as Brian Walden in Brian and Maggie – Channel 4’s two-part drama about Walden's final, sensational interview with Margaret Thatcher in 1989 – the comedian admits that although he identifies with Thatcher’s lower-middle-class background, he had concerns that the script might make her seem too sympathetic. Heaven forbid. Coogan considers the drama to be as much about class as a lament for long-form interviews, suggesting that intelligent outsiders such as Walden, Thatcher and indeed Coogan himself will always struggle to break through the cut-glass ceiling.

Trainer Rebecca Curtis has experienced plenty of challenging seasons since her successes in the early 2010s, when her owners included the legendary Irishman J.P. McManus and her numerous winners included four at the Cheltenham Festival. She eventually added a fifth Festival winner in 2020 when the 50-1 shot Lisnagar Oscar landed the Stayers’ Hurdle. As if to prove the old saying ‘form is temporary, class is permanent’, Curtis has showed signs of reviving the glory days with an impressive 18 per cent winning strike rate from her runners this season. Furthermore, I think that she has a massive chance of landing a sixth Festival winner next month with her horse HAITI COULEURS.