NEW YORK—Ms. Geniece Draper is a Noo Yawker who has been in the news lately. She is 40 years old with modern Bagelite manners, and by that I mean they are not exactly those of, say, C.Z. Guest or Babe Paley, two ladies who are no longer with us but whose presence in drawing rooms we could do with rather desperately. Ms. Draper is angry as hell and has declared she will not take it anymore. She was recently charged with grand ...
Rodney Dangerfield was the American Benny Hill, lewd, funny, and not exactly politically correct where the weaker sex was concerned. In America today there is no room for Rodney’s or Benny’s shenanigans, and leering at women is now commensurate to having one’s rocket polished in broad daylight, perhaps even more so. I find it amazing to be bombarded daily by the shameless gimmickry, stupidity, and smuttiness of ...
That Kim Kardashian dame being fined by the Securities and Exchange Commission for a “pump and dump” scheme should help add victimhood to her other assets. Everyone in this country revels in being a victim, or so it seems when watching the news or reading the papers. My Spectator colleague Jeremy Clark is as ill as it is possible to be, and what we get is his brave and wonderful column every week, never complaining about ...
NEW YORK—I am seriously thinking of visiting a shrink (just kidding) as I now have definite proof that I am crazy: Instead of remaining in England and going to Badminton for the duke of Beaufort’s 70th birthday bash, and catching a glimpse of the love of my life, Iona McLaren, I find myself in a rotten place where a small headline in the New York Post announces “16 shot in one bloody night.” All I can say is the ...
Harvard man Russell Seitz has sent me an extraordinary present as an object lesson in “what a magazine should be, in case you start another one.” The paper has yellowed and is dog-eared, pages are falling out and the print is faint, but The Transatlantic Review, Vol. 1, dated January 1924, is a joy to behold. Mind you, we were already one hundred years old when Ford Madox Ford first edited TTR in Paris. And that’s what I ...
Privilege at birth displeases wannabe types, and the subject came up rather a lot last week, especially in the Land of the Depraved, where the Bagel Times regards monarchy as antidemocratic and the cause of most human ills, including the common cold, cancer, pimples, varicose veins, and even athlete’s foot. At my own alma mater, the University of Virginia, founded by the greatest of all Americans, Thomas Jefferson, some ...
None of this would have happened had I accepted my neighbor’s invite to dine with a Swiss billionaire banker, or bb. He’s an old friend, the bb, and untypically Swiss: He boozes, schnoofs, and chases women, or AFABs, as the absurd youth of today call them. Booze, alas, now goes to my head, and as the song says, it lingers like a haunting refrain for at least a couple of days. I had kickboxing early the next day so I chose ...
GSTAAD—A fin de saison feeling around here, but the restaurants are still full, the sons of the desert still moping around, building is going on nonstop, and the cows are down from the mountains making the village a friendlier and more civilized place. Something of a twilight mood has crept in, especially when I compare the cows to the people. Reclaiming vanished days is a sucker’s game, but it’s irresistible. I was up at ...
Eighty-two years ago, when Mussolini attacked Greece, the people—deeply offended—simply fought back. Their response followed Plato’s definition of a situation whereby the desire to win a fight is fueled by the desire to have one’s honor restored. Plato called it “philotimo,” the literal translation being “love of honor.” I remember the word and the war quite clearly, my mother’s four brothers and my father ...
GSTAAD—Nostalgia barged in like gangbusters. What brought it on was a brief article about the most charming and enchanting of young women, Nancy Olson. Seventy-two years ago she was in that rare gem of a movie, Sunset Boulevard, playing the rosy-cheeked screenwriter who was the love interest of William Holden, the handsome but entrapped writer by Norma Desmond, a.k.a. Gloria Swanson. Nancy’s blue eyes shimmered, and her ...
GSTAAD—As the great Yogi Berra explained, “It’s déjà vu all over again.” The great one also contributed the following wisdom: “You can observe a lot by watching.” Yogi came to mind as high inflation and a recession loom, and merry old England’s trade unions are reverting to type and are blackmailing the government. And where is Margaret Thatcher now that she’s needed? Gone with the wind, that’s where. I ...
CORONIS—I suppose there’s always a first time, and looking back it was bound to happen. I scrambled off a sailing boat and took the coward’s way out after being bashed about by an angry Poseidon and a furious Aeolus. Actually it was the wife who couldn’t take it anymore and I simply went along. Sixty years of being thrown around while giving the middle finger to Aeolus and Poseidon, and during the week of another ...
An F. Scott Fitzgerald biographer by the name of David Brown refers to America’s promotion of deviancy (my words) as “the great post Appomattox launch toward materialism.” I liked that line and was thinking about it as I left the boat early morning and walked into an almost perfect Greek village square for a coffee. There were some French people blabbering away with their usual hand gestures, Greeks discussing politics in ...
PATMOS—Judging by the news, the world is finally coming apart: Chinese lab escapee Covid is still going strong, the monkeypox plague is targeting gays, record heat waves are crippling Europe and America, mass shootings are becoming a way of life in the U.S., there’s a war of attrition in the Ukraine, Taiwan is being threatened by China, and gloom and doom are everywhere but here in the holy island of Patmos, where Saint ...
I now find resorts more fun out of season. Civilized tourists are as rare as an intelligent Hollywood movie, so local talent will do nicely, and to hell with the vulgar jet set. Gstaad is perfect in June and July, March and April, as are St. Moritz, the Ionian Islands, and Patmos, my next destination. Once upon a time the French Riviera was a must, but now it’s a sweaty hellhole, a shabby place for not-so-sunny ...
Michael Beloff QC and past president of Trinity College Oxford has just had his memoir reviewed in The Spectator, and it brought back memories. Here’s this really good man, the type who does the work, believes in the system, plays by the rules, and subscribes to the old graces of courtesy and politeness, but the sort we never read about. Instead, what is shoved down our throats are today’s politicians selling their snake ...
