Pity the Middleton Family

Many might think that having a Royal Duchess as a daughter must be like a dream come true. The reality is far from that. That being related to a member of the Royal Family resembles more to a nightmare is mainly due to the press and the media.

Carole Middleton, family matriarch

Hockey mums play for it; tiger mums go on the prowl for it: Marrying their daughter off to a Royal Duke is the ultimate accolade of achievement. But it happened to Carol Middleton’s daughter Kate instead. She is neither a hockey mum nor a tiger mum. If she were one, she would have failed, because these obstreperous mums lack the main characteristic that is needed: Reticence.

Love happens even in high places, and who can say that is a bad thing? But the time of organised intermarriage between the ruling houses is over since the Great War; the future in-laws of a Royal Prince are now as predictable as the lottery. Not that these in-laws had always been above reproach. In that sense, Prince William was actually extremely lucky not only with Kate Middleton’s parents Carol and Michael, but also with her sister Pippa and her brother James.

But that is where the fairy tale ends, or so it seems. The press is constantly carping about the Middletons cashing in on their Royal connection. They haven’t reason to do so and what meagre evidence they present is apocryphal. What they are doing is called journalism by envy and by jealousy. It is time they got a grip on reality and attacked those that really are cashing in.

Carol and Michael Middleton have been received at Buckingham Palace on more than one private occasion; they have been invited to Ascot by the Queen and arrived officially with the Royal cavalcade. The Queen can’t say what she thinks, that is not part of her job. But it is little things like these that indicate her approval of the Middleton family and their behaviour. And it drives embittered little journalists up the walls and makes them out of reason cross.

To Buckingham Palace insiders, Carol Middleton has become The Steel Marshmallow Mark II; Mark I was the Queen Mother. Photographer had once described her as a marshmallow made in a welding machine; he probably was right. Carol has even adopted one of the Queen Mother’s dictums: Never complain, never explain. If she doesn’t say it, she is very good at following it to the letter. It has served her well, obviously.

So they are cashing in on their Royal connection? Where, please? They ran a business in the past and they keep on running it. So far, I have seen no offer from any journalist to pay them for doing nothing and in turn taking on their 30 employees; have you? Their business Party Pieces is not only a good business; in its niche, it is market leader in the United Kingdom. It was that before Kate Middleton became Catherine Duchess of Cambridge. They sell tat, so what? If you sell tat, one of the obvious subjects of this tat is the Royal Family. The press will just have to learn to live with that. That the family has to pay for their own security on the other hand seems to be perfectly alright with these selfsame journalists. Maybe they should be made to pay for the policemen that are on the beat in their neighbourhood.

Pippa Middleton was accused of the same thing when she appeared at Wimbledon and at Roland Garros before that. When she was presented with a gift by the president of Peugeot while in Paris, she was accused of cashing in on her Royal connection. What should she have done? Slap the old man in his face? Envy, jealousy, call it what you want, but such journalists are not worth the name. That Pippa was stopped by the government from travelling to the continent on at least one occasion because of another terrorist panic attack in Whitehall, nobody mentioned. But it’s not much fun, being the sister of a Duchess.

Justin Bieber‘s marketing and Party Pieces have recently concluded a deal for merchandising his tat. It was immediately alleged that this deal was only done because of their Royal connections. No honeys, it was done because they are the market leader. No one, as far as I can tell, has yet accused Justin Bieber of cashing in on the Middletons connections. Funny world, isn’t it?

At least the Queen and Prince Charles appreciate their reticence and circumspection. The family is supported by Royal staff from both sources whenever issues arise. The holistic approach in presenting this normal family alongside the Royal Family seems so far to pay off. But all in all, you really don’t wish the situation they are in on your worst enemy.

Further reading
New Dream Team: Pippa Middleton and Justin Bieber
William and Kate: Title History
How Royal Succession Works in the United Kingdom

Dr James Barry, Transvestite Surgeon

Dr James Barry studied at Edinburgh and qualified with a Medical Doctorate. He entered the army and had a sterling career there. But not all things were as they seemed at the time. Who was Dr James Barry? 

Dr James Barry and servant

In 1809, a young man freshly arrived from Ireland entered Edinburgh University as a literary and medical student. He qualified with a Medical Doctorate in 1812 and moved to London where friends of his uncle the painter James Barry lived. His uncle had been a well-known Irish artist and professor for painting at London’s Royal Academy until his death in 1806. In London, Barry signed up for a course with the United Hospitals of Guy’s and St. Thomas’. In 1813, he passed the examination for the Royal College of Surgeons of England and qualified as a Regimental Assistant.

With stops in Chelsea and Plymouth, he was first posted to India and then to South Africa. He arrived in Cape Town for the first time in 1815 and again in 1824. He was promoted Medical Inspector for the colony within weeks of this arrival and stayed until 1828. In his time in the colony, he revolutionised Cape Town’s water supply, undertook one of the first successful Caesarean sections (mother and child both survived) in 1826, and made a general pest of himself criticising local medical matters. His local enemies were numerous and they all pounced on the scandal when he was accused of having a homosexual relationship with the colony’s governor Lord Charles Henry Somerset.

From his first Cape Town posting, he was then sent to Mauritius, Trinidad and Tobago, and finally Saint Helena, followed by a curious gap in his records for the year 1819 where he virtually disappeared from records. In Saint Helena in 1817, James Barry was called to attend the son of the Comte de Las Cases in the retinue of Emperor Napoleon. The Count wrote the following in his diary: “I received a visit from one of the captains of our station at St Helena. Knowing the state of my son's health, he brought a medical gentleman along with him. This was a mark of attention on his part, but the introduction occasioned for some moments, a curious misunderstanding. I mistook the Captain's medical friend for his son or nephew. The grave Doctor, who was presented to me was a boy of 18, with the form, the manners and the voice of a woman. But Mr Barry (such was his name) was described to be an absolute phenomenon. I was informed that he had obtained his diploma at the age of 13, after the most rigid examination, and that he had performed extraordinary cures at the Cape.”

His further postings included Jamaica, Canada, Malta, and Corfu. When he requested being sent to the Crimea during the Crimean War, he was refused. Instead, he took a holiday and embarked to Cyprus, from where he sailed to the Crimea and did what he wanted. That meant, mainly making a pest of himself over the food and sanitary dispositions in the field hospitals as well as the food served there. He met Florence Nightingale and the two loathed each other on sight, while appreciating the other’s work.

Dr James Barry was made to retire in 1864 from his posting in Corfu and died in London in 1865. The charwoman preparing the body for the funeral discovered the true sex of the corpse as well as signs that this woman had born a child. Still, Dr James Barry was buried under this name at Kensal Green Cemetery. But what had been going on prior to 1809?

In 1789, Margaret Ann Bulkley was born as the daughter of Jeremiah and Mary-Ann Bulkley in Ireland. Mary-Ann was the sister of painter James Barry. When Mary-Ann’s life slithered into chaos with her husband in prison for fraud and her son married and with a family to look after, she had to take steps to safeguard her and her daughter’s livelihood. Upon contacting some friends of her brother’s in London (namely the Beaufort family), she and her daughter planned a trip to Edinburgh.

The day of the ship’s departure saw Mrs Bulkley embark with her nephew James Barry but without her daughter. A letter sent by the young Mr James Barry to the Bulkley solicitor back home mentioned the great comfort his aunt had taken from being accompanied by a young gentleman. Solicitors are sticklers for details, and the solicitor therefore noted on the back of the envelope ‘Miss Bulkley’. It’s the one thing that links the disappearance of Margaret Ann to the sudden appearance of James. 

Further reading
Wear Skirts if Shorts are Not Allowed
Eccentric Aristocrats' Stories
The Invention of George Eliot

James Greenwood Started Investigative Journalism

James Greenwood started out as a printer. Later, he began writing adventure tales before entering journalism. As a journalist, he was the first to go undercover and to invent investigative journalism in the process. His subsequent writing was nothing short of revolutionary.

James Greenwood

James Greenwood was born in 1832 in London. He worked as a printer until the writing bug caught him and he started publishing adventure stories in Boy’s Own in 1861 with Wild Sports Of The World. Over the next four years, adventure stories of his were regularly published and promoted in Boy’s Own and Boy’s Own Annual. His article series Lion King published in the 1864 Annual is thought to have inspired Rudyard Kipling to write The Jungle Book.

In 1865, he joined The Pall Mall Gazette where his brother Frederic was its first editor. On the suggestion of his brother, James Greenwood dressed as a vagrant. He subsequently went undercover and checked in at Lambeth workhouse for the poor. Out of his experience there, he wrote the three-part article A Night In A Workhouse to be published in the Pall Mall Gazette in 1866. The article caused a furore.

Other articles had treated social issues before that. But their authors had stuck to the Victorian principle of obfuscation by omitting any offensive themes and couching everything in the most blatant euphemisms. Greenwood dispensed with niceties and the nerves of his readers and told them stark truth. The article told for the first time of the dehumanisation of the poor; of how they were stripped of their meagre possessions and clothing and stuck into dirty bathtubs filled with water as dirty as rotting soup; and how Greenwood found his mattress soaked in blood from his predecessor and how he was told to flip it over and use it. The article set fire to Londoners’ world view, and a public outcry for social changes in workhouses ensued.

Upon leaving The Pall Mall Gazette (long before it was merged with The Evening Standard), James Greenwood joined the Daily Telegraph. He continued his double career as writer of adventure stories and social journalist there. His involvement went further than mere writing, though.

In 1895, he joined The Ragged School Union in arranging to send poor children from London to the countryside for summer holidays. He also set up an appeal that provided £80,000 (that is about 4.8 million pounds in today’s money) for Christmas hampers to be handed out to crippled children. He died in London in 1929.

James Greenwood’s extraordinary works were largely forgotten and have only quite recently been rediscovered as noteworthy. In fact, his work is not only noteworthy, it is partly revolutionary. Critical social writing as produced by Jacob Riis, Jack London, Henry Mayhew, and Arthur Morrison would have been unthinkable without James Greenwood setting the pace. And wouldn’t we all be the poorer (and Walt Disney even more so) for missing out on The Jungle Book?

Further reading
Prophet of The Great War
High Literature: Being Politically Incorrect
When a Sassy Headline Becomes an Embarrassment

Oscar Parties: Who Is Max Loong?

Oscar presenter James Franco will host his after Oscar party at the Supperclub in the converted Vogue Theatre just 100 yards from the Kodak Theatre. The owners of the Supperclub on the Hollywood Walk of Fame are Jerry Garcia, Abdi Manavi, and Max Loong.

Max Loong, presenter

Oscar Parties usually are held at the most prestigious clubs in Los Angeles. Oscar presenter James Franco has chosen the new Supperclub as the venue for his after Oscars party. The Supperclub opened only in November 2010 but is already on the way to becoming one of the top venues to go to. This may have to do with its concept of entertainment, or it may be down to its location just 100 yards from the Kodak Theatre.

Owners Jerry Garcia, Abdi Manavi, and Max Loong certainly did their homework to make a success of their venture. While Jerry Garcia and Abdi Manavi are of local vintage, the question is: Who is Max Loong?

Max Loong’s father is Malaysian of Chinese descent, his mother is Swiss. The family moved to Switzerland in 1983 where Max did the usual school run. In 2000 aged 20, he landed his first TV job with Swiss private TV station VIVA Swizz. He soon became the face of the station and over three years interviewed over 300 show business A-listers.

In 2004, Max Loong joined the Lee Strasberg Theatre and Film Institute in Los Angeles as an alumnus. It was during his time there that he met Jerry Garcia and Abdi Manavi. He also had several appearances in independent films while studying.

In 2006, he joined MTV Southeast Asia in Singapore. Amongst other shows, he hosted the award winning MTV Mobbed. Max Loong’s personal website is a typical Swiss understatement. While he names MTV Mobbed as one of the shows he hosted, he forgot to mention that he regularly reached 200 million viewers. I don’t know how many viewers Oprah reaches, but Simon Cowell battles to get 10 million interested. In 2007, Max Loong was for the first time listed amongst the 100 most influential Swiss personalities and received the Elle ‘Breakout Star of the Year’ award.

But while working for MTV, he didn’t let his acting drop out of sight. He played in Swiss and French films and series; with Swiss Television he made a drama series called Adventure Max; and he starred in Singapore’s Emmy nominated comedy series First Class. He has regular engagements in Switzerland and Singapore as well as other Asian countries; and now he has business in Los Angles as well.

Max Loong has family in Switzerland and Malaysia and a girl friend in Singapore, too. This alone would make him clock up air miles like few others, but with his professional engagements now covering the globe, he’ll be able to make use of frequent flyer discounts no end.

Roping Max into the Supperclub was a smart move by Jerry Garcia and Abdi Manavi. From his TV shows, Max knows all the right people in Los Angeles and abroad without seeming to suck up to them by being a local guy; and as a host he should do well, too. When living in Zurich, he usually managed to become the soul of any party he attended without dominating its centre. That would, in my opinion, be the perfect way to host any party. And despite all this, he is refreshingly absent from the gossip pages that sell scandals for news.

And before you run off to book your table at the Supperclub, check the prices!

Further reading
Strictly Gay Dancing
Boxer on Ice
Splash: Tom Daley on ITV 1

Why James Bond is Eternal

The Man With The Golden Touch: How The Bond Films Conquered The World by Sinclair McKay was published by Aurum. Just one more writer jumping on the marketing train of Quantum of Solace? Not quite.

Sean Connery

Every other year or so, a James Bond movie comes to the cinemas around the world. We are all used to it and either adore it or ignore it. Like a meteorite, these movies are tailed by a trail of book publications, most of which are not worth the paper they are printed on. But they ride like passengers on the fame of the movies.

In his book, McKay tells the story behind the Bond movies. It is not a new story, others have done it before. It tells the story of the producers, Broccoli and Saltzmann, two creative genies with the talent to find the right people for the job. Out of it, he makes a good case for the claim that without the movies Ian Fleming would be forgotten and his books out of print. Due to the movies, his books are still found in book shops everywhere.

McKay gives us the full treat, taking us through every movie produced up to the present. It is obvious that he knows them well, and the facts are well researched. Having said this, I have to admit that I tend to disagree with him on most statements all the same. But that is a matter of opinion, not science. He is right, though, to attribute the timelessness of the movies to two sound producers. Broccoli and Saltzmann had the knack of concentrating on what mattered while ignoring the fads of time. Where most movies become hopelessly outdated after a few years, Bond movies just have aged respectfully.

I also agree with him that Thunderball was the most boring Bond movie ever. But how he could be kind to ‘poor’ Lazenby beats me. Despite being nice, McKay alleges Lazenby with selling minty chocolates before becoming an actor. And I for one violently disapproved of Roger Moore who should have played light comedy instead. McKay on the other hand is highly appreciative of Moore, though he sees that the errors in taste in these movies were many. His list of atrocities committed is quite impressive, actually.

Besides the producers and the actors, he pays tribute to the three men who set the style for Bond movies to this day, Adam, Barry, and Binder. I tend to think that the mixture of all these talents including Connery made the first movies so highly memorable. In a way, Quantum of Solace is still carried by these movies despite the many years that have gone by.

The book makes a good read, maybe because there is nothing really new in it. McKay has done his homework on details, obviously, and writes a droll style. It’s well worth a rainy afternoon. If it’s worth its selling price of £18.99 I must leave up to you. I would rather wait for it in the library on a day I have nothing better to do.

Further reading
Quantum of Solace: The Source
Roger Moore Biography
Turkey Apprehends Israeli Spy

A Quantum of Boredom

Roger Moore’s My Word Is My Bond is published by Michael O’Mara Books. I don’t know where he found his ghost-writer, maybe it’s his accountant.

Roger Moore

Roger Moore’s My Word Is My Bond was published by Michael O’Mara Books. I don’t know where Moore found his ghost-writer, but maybe it was his accountant. The book would qualify as an accountant’s joke anytime.

Roger Moore is the first to admit to being an average actor. Maybe he hopes to be contradicted; indeed, I do contradict him as average is still praising him over his head, something his meagre talents haven’t earned him. He proved that point over and over when miming James Bond. The book shows his writing abilities to be on a par with his acting abilities; or maybe he just chose an illiterate ghost-writer for the task. The book reminds one of his acting through and through; it’s mealy mouthed and bland.

When celebrities bring out their biographies, it is customarily a pack of lies. These biographies fall in two categories, how I would have liked my life to have been (but it never was), and how I would like to be remembered (and please forget about all the scandals). This one is a rare specimen, as it falls into both categories. But whereas other celebrities showed a certain artfulness while unashamedly names dropping in their concoctions, this one proves just plain over-kill. While reading, I wondered if some of his dear friends even remember having ever met him.

Starting with his childhood in Stockwell in South London is not a topic that fascinates, nor is being a hypochondriac; Moliere did that so much better. Worse, the story is not even amusingly presented. But calling every person he cares to mention, i.e. drop their names, a ‘very good friend’ is sorely testing readers’ credulity. And accidentally omitting his two marriages and the reasons for their break up just shows the quality of the biography: Zero content.

This book started out life as a list of names of the rich and the famous of a bygone era that then were cobbled together willy-nilly into some sort of writing. The long litany of names dropped range from actors to singers, from presidents to royalty, and is only sparely interspersed with thin anecdotal comments, most of which is either spurious or plainly and obviously just invented. The final bomb shell may be found in the last chapter; it’s a boring list of all the countries he has ever been to. Boredom at that point really hits rock bottom. Publisher said the book needed a few more pages; let’s draw up another list without bothering to string them out in ever repeating sentences.

There is absolutely no reason why anybody would want to buy this book except to commit suicide by boredom. It’s bland like a glass of water, but with less taste. It is as boring as Roger Moore was playing James Bond. It puts you to sleep after every second passage and the ghost-writer must have died of boredom while inventing its meagre content. Even fans will be shocked by the complete emptiness that is Roger Moore.

I have accorded this book the title of Passenger Number One on the James Bond marketing train. If Roger Moore had never been inflicted on us as James Bond we would maybe have been spared this little horror.

Further reading
James Bond: Behind the Movies
Quantum of Solace: The Source
Warren Beatty Biography