Heil Spode, and other 30s capers

Did anyone else watch Andrew Marr's The Making of Modern Britain last night? I'm not a huge fan of Marr, and didn't intend to watch this episode because I'm a 30s expert (the only thing I can claim to know much about), but I was captivated by it, partly because he started with some of the Mitford sisters (no mention of unpleasant brother Tom), and I'm a sucker for Jessica/Decca.

Sure, the Spanish Civil War took 3 words to cover and the organised left in Britain didn't get much attention, but he was very good on the British flirtation with uniformed groups and their swift failure - his thesis that Oswald Mosley's Blackshirts didn't get far because most Brits found them laughable was interesting. I'm not too convinced - there wasn't much to laugh about at that point - but it was intriguing and is supported by P. G. Wodehouse (who was very rightwing to the point of broadcasting for the Nazis during the war) depicting Mosley, leader of the British Union of Fascists as a violent dimwit toff (very accurately) and Fuhrer of the Black Shorts (all the other distinctive clothing had been bagged by other groups) in The Code of the Woosters and other books:

The trouble with you, Spode, is that just because you have succeeded in inducing a handful of half-wits to disfigure the London scene by going about in black shorts, you think you're someone. You hear them shouting "Heil, Spode!" and you imagine it is the Voice of the People. That is where you make your bloomer. What the Voice of the People is saying is: "Look at that frightful ass Spode swanking about in footer bags! Did you ever in your puff see such a perfect perisher?"

Watch Spode address the cadre (embedding annoyingly disabled).

Books books books books books books books books

Seeing as I'm an English lecturer and notorious for buying more books than I can afford, I should probably talk about them more than I do. You can see the books I'm adding, on the list to the left of my posts.

At the moment, I'm reading a Wodehouse Jeeves book because people say they're relaxing. Not my experience, but mildly diverting. The only other one I've read is the one with Roderick Spode (thinly-disguised Oswald Mosley), from historical interest. What did strike me was the huge range of half-submerged literary references: Wooster knows his poetry but pretends he doesn't by mangling quotations slightly - neatly capturing toffs' anti-intellectualism. Sorry John Cowen - being mildly amusing doesn't make up for collaborating with the Nazis. 

I'm also on Germaine Greer's 1960s-1980s journalism: very enjoyable and sometimes strikingly profound - even at the heart of the underground press movement she retained a sense that they weren't getting anywhere. What a shame that she now produces instant opinions on absolutely anything rather than sticking to what she knows about. 

Finally, I'm reading Gildas's On the Ruin of Britain (originally De Excidio Britannia): giving my medieval lecture the other week reminded me what fun all that stuff is, and I've bought several more academic books and collections on the period. Gildas is a bit Daily Mail-ish, to be honest, constantly going on about social decay. It was written in the 500s but he whinges about 'the general destruction of all that is good' already - only 100 years after the Romans left and 50 years after the Saxons put their towels on a new stretch of beach. Still, it's bracing stuff, despite the awful prose into which it's been rendered. Dodo Books have clearly skimped on their editorial side - no dates anywhere, but I'm guessing it's a bad Victorian translation. I'm now so boring that the publication details page is the first thing I look at in a book now…

Gentle Readers: feed my habit

Given the t'web is global, and I'm getting readers from all over the world, I thought I'd ask you for help. I'm looking for a book (friends may not be overly-shocked by this announcement). It is Nancy Mitford's Wigs on the Green (1934), republished together with Highland Fling in the mid-1970s. Wigs is a satire about the British Union of Fascists, and she withdrew it when her sister Diana objected (Diana married Oswald Mosley, leader of the BUF). 

Nancy clearly didn't think much of either of them - she wrote to Churchill (a family acquaintance) objecting to the Mosleys' release from prison mid-way through the war. However, the book remained unavailable until this one 1970s reprint - and I can't find a copy anywhere. Tried Amazon, tried ABE etc. etc. If you see a copy, buy it, steal it, scan it - I'm planning a piece on satirical treatments of the BUF - Wodehouse (not entirely innocent himself), lampooned Mosley in a Jeeves novel as leader of the Union Jackshorts - all the more distinctive garments had already been bagged by other groups).