Among the many pleasures of The Spectator – greatly improved under Matthew D’Ancona’s watch – few are greater than Charles Moore’s weekly column. Having edited the Speccie himself Mr Moore knows how to write a notebook-style column. Ranging over acres and acres of ground – an archive of the column is here – it’s classic Toryism of the finest sort. Some recent snippets of common sense, wry humour and insight. Proof of the column’s excellence is that one need not agree with it to appreciate it.
For instance:
The working week began with what the press call ‘Blue Monday’, the day in January when all the worst things about being alive — post-Christmas credit card bills, the dreariness of work, foul weather etc. — combine. It lived up to its billing, with the slump in the stock market, and wind and rain. I went for a walk. There were no colours but grey-green and brown, and almost no sign of life. Even the snipe that normally flourish in our marshy field seemed to have fled. I found this absence of redeeming features cheering. Looking back on previous recessions, I realise that I have enjoyed them, even when they hurt me personally. Recessions are moments of truth, which human nature needs after the lies that always go with a boom. The best way to deal with bad weather is to go out in it.
And this:
Through all the apparent banality of campaign speeches, politicians do, in fact, convey a message about themselves. There is a vital distinction between candidates who, mentally, face outwards and those who face inwards. Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, Margaret Thatcher, Tony Blair all faced outwards: they instinctively wanted to communicate with voters, just as good actors or good preachers wish to reach their audiences.
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