So we find him bowed down by the misfortunes of an ungrateful world, rendered defensive by problems with the economy, by arguments over Europe, by the intractability of politicians in Northern Ireland, by attacks from within his own party.
With that same party busy airbrushing him from its history--despite his unlikely victory over Neil Kinnock in 1992--it's as well he has got his account into print, an unstuffy telling of a fascinating story that is free of the pomposity that affects so many of his political peers and which reveals a deep-seated belief in the value of basic decency. "I will not concede possession of the recent past to the mythographers of left or right who have every self-interest in retouching the history we made," he says.
But how sad to find him still so defensive and so bitter about the slights of others, still anxious to explain why speeches or gestures were misconstrued. "I was too conservative, too conventional. Too safe, too often. Too defensive. Too reactive," he says. But could he have been anything else? --Kim Fletcher
‘Compelling…a classic of holding the reader’s attention which many fiction writers might envy.’ Roy Jenkins, Evening Standard
‘Unsparing…vivid…witty as well as wise.’ Geoffrey Howe, Independent
‘One of the few post-war political autobiographies that will endure…compulsively readable and remarkably objective…deeply moving.’ Bruce Anderson, Daily Telegraph