November 10, 2015

Finest Hour 169, Summer 2015

Page 47

Review by Antoine Capet

Antoine Capet is Professor Emeritus of British Studies at the University of Rouen.

Frédéric Ferney, «Tu seras un raté, mon fils!» Churchill et son père. Paris: Éditions Albin Michel, 2015, 261 pages, €17.00.
ISBN 978-2226312594

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tu SerasThis strange book, whose title could be translated as “You Will Be a Failure, My Son!” Churchill and His Father, can be viewed from at least three angles: that of the French general public for whom it seems to be primarily intended, that of Freudians, and that of Finest Hour readers. This last group will not learn much, if anything, and will deplore the factual errors (Churchill did not reside in Chartwell during the Second World War; in London his last house was not in Hyde Park Street) and unsubstantiated claims (it has never been conclusively established that Lord Randolph died of syphilis), as well as the scatological double entendre on “the toilets” and “his initials: WC.” Ferney is obviously not familiar with the celebrated “WSC” embroidered slippers.

The format is unusual in that each chapter is preceded by a variable number of paragraphs in italics that provide context: in these, the author abstains from formulating personal theories, and it is here that French readers will get useful information about Churchill’s life. But then, there are far better Churchill biographies on offer for the French public, notably those of François Kersaudy (Winston Churchill: le pouvoir de l’imagination, 2009) and the late François Bédarida (Churchill, 1999). In his very short bibliography, Ferney indicates that he drew some of his inspiration “from [Churchill’s] most lucid and most conscientious biographer, William Manchester,” a highly debatable statement. None of Sir Martin Gilbert’s seminal books is cited, not even the Official Biography.

What then of the Freudian approach? Readers will form different opinions depending on their adherence or otherwise to Freud’s controversial theories about “killing the father” and so on. Throughout the book, Lord Randolph appears as the villain with no redeeming features—he in fact is presented as the real failure: the flaws in his character ruined his political career. Lord Randolph’s inability to relate to his son (as in most books on the subject, Jack is forgotten) put an unbearable strain on young Winston’s perception of the adult world, his only ally in that world being Mrs. Everest.

Why then should the mature Churchill always want to take his father’s supposed achievements (for Ferney, of course, there were none) as the unattainable benchmark? This question constantly recurs in the subtext of the discussion. Nobody will ever know, naturally, and this exercise in intellectual speculation, far from opening new perspectives (all the arguments will be familiar to Finest Hour readers), becomes tedious, in spite of the author’s sometimes exciting prose (though the repetition of English interjections mars it). Ferney naturally makes much of Churchill’s “black dog” (giving a useful reference to an interesting on-line article by Paul Foley, “‘Black Dog’ as a metaphor for depression”—easily found with Google); in fact, this metaphorical beast provides the title of his first chapter. Here again, the reader’s attitude to psychology and the validity of its conclusions will dictate the degree of enjoyment or scepticism derived from Ferney’s arguments.

This is a strange book also in that it is deliberately unbalanced: when we reach page 217, we have only reached the end of the First World War. We then jump to July 1945, at Potsdam, with the chapter ending on Churchill’s return to office in October 1951. The two final chapters are devoted to his retirement, with Chapter 16 comprising only a half-page. All in all, then, the period from 1918 to 1965—when Churchill demonstrably did not end as a failure—only occupies thirty-five pages.

Only those who must have everything published on Churchill should acquire the book, I am sorry to say.

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