Number 10, by Sue Townsend (on CD)

Retrieved from: the library
(140257729X)

I love Sue Townsend. Part of that is because I read the original Adrian Mole books when I was just old enough to understand the satire in them. Part of it is because she lives and writes about the city in which my sister's family lives. I recognize the scenery. I think she is underappreciated as a satirist, and a writer in general. I loved The Queen and I as well.

On top of that rave, the reader of this edition is Barbara Rosenblatt, whom I also love because she reads Elizabeth Peters' books so well. Her differentiation of characters and her variety of accents is astounding. I'm almost to the point that I'll read anything she's attached to!

The Book: If you take a close look at the cover, it will sum up the general emotion and plot pretty succintly: it's a picture of Tony Blair, in drag, outside of Number 10 Downing Street. Written before the Coalition (pause for coughing) went to war in Iraq, the prime minister, Edward St. Clair, is a clear lapdog of George Bush. The depth of Townsend's contempt is incredible.

We get to know the p.m. and his family--his too clever and ugly wife, his secret-Socialist teenage son, his girly-girl daughter and the new baby--just before he is shown to be completely out of touch with "regular folks." American readers may remember a similar situation when George H.W. Bush "discovered" price scanners in 1992. As a result of this gaffe, St. Clair is sent out to meet and greet, in secret. To do this, he must dress as a woman--which he is just a little too excited about--and is accompanied by the police officer who guards his front door, Jack Spratt. Although Jack himself is upright and honest, he comes from a family where petty theft is not only accepted, but is the family business.

In the course of the story the p.m. is faced with poverty-stricken council-housing dwellers, crack users, a Pakistani taxi driver (whose voice is done perfectly, may I add), and a whole host of people who generally can't stand "that Ed St. Clair!" The man himself is incredibly obtuse and waffly--his son pegs him at the end when he tells him his politics are completely opaque: he's more like a priest who has discovered he doesn't believe in God.

A really wonderfully funny-in-a-sad-way-book about what life is like in England (and to an extent, in America) today. There is a gaping chasm between politicians and the people they are reputed to serve. And Townsend couldn't possibly have made that more clear, or more hopeless-sounding. Not that she portrays The People as particularly heroic. No, they are by far and away some of the stupidest people in literature, with a few street-smart-no-bullshit ones thrown in as ringers.

I will probably go get a paper copy of this and reread it. It is a stitch.

[I do think, based on the limited information I know of her, that Townsend is a bit harsh on her satire of Tony Blair's wife. But I'll admit a large stain of ignorance in general about her, so maybe I'm wrong.]