Sins of the World
Paul Newman
Scandal
'Scandal' by Colin and Damon Wilson
Virgin (£18.99)
Colin and Damon Wilson’s re-casting and updating of Scandal! − previously it was a collaboration between CW and the thriller writer Donald Seaman − is essentially a sacrificial offering. It is like that propitiatory fallow field set aside in ancient times to sprout all the weeds, thistles and poisonous growths − an inverse religious text wherein all the things we shouldn’t do are spelt out plainly and thrillingly. Here the sins of the world are tidily packaged between hard covers. There’s so much greed, sexual rapacity, lying and deceit here, that you feel purer by having it in your hands. It’s almost as if one is exonerated by the excesses or others.
The first spiritual lesson is provided by the journalist and politician, Jonathan Aitken. He is an example of a man taking up a position – as a Cabinet minister − in which moral responsibility is implicit but who has no consciousness of it. Aitken lied, took bribes, made shady deals, had illicit sexual liaisons and, when found out, wrote speeches about "the sword of truth", as if he’d confused himself with William Blake. Naturally he turned Christian after all the furore. It was the only self-deception he hadn’t practised yet.
By comparison, Jeffrey Archer is crazier and more picturesque − an honorary deceiver. Knowing lies oil the wheels of ambition, he uses them with magnificent abandon. But at least he dreams of being honourable and brave, and that is evident in the dreamlike twists and turns of his fictions. One can just about imagine him loaning you a thousand pounds on the spot or doing some unexpected kindness. His brashness and effrontery spill over into comedy and one tends to be gobsmacked rather than enraged.
Byron is a case of an Aristocratic Spoilt Brat with a powerful satiric and lyric talent. Prodigally gifted, irresistibly attractive, he took advantage of whatever sexual bounty was around. Ruthless in personal relations, impervious to the hurt he caused, he had a libertarian dimension which believed in breaking chains and freeing minds of strictures and obligations. And that inspired intellectuals like Goethe and prompted Bertrand Russell to include him in his History of Western Philosophy. What a pity his memoirs were not preserved rather than consigned to the bonfire! They might have proven as great or greater than those of Jean Jacques Rousseau.
Frank Sinatra is another Spoilt Brat. Behind that superb singing voice, redolent with smoky evenings in nightclubs and bittersweet affairs, we find a petulant, hate-dealing tyrant who clothed his rancour in a suit of charm and vaulted obstacles like a pedigree. He was the kind of man to whom you dare not tell a small truth lest the next day you choke on it. His jolly aerial hit ‘Come Fly With Me’ must have had a special significance to that good and faithful servant who − for some miniscule lapse − was almost flung out of the door of his private aeroplane.
Far more likeable is Diana, Princess of Wales. She broke out of the royal bedchamber and displayed all the dirty ermine robes and rusty sceptres to public view. Intellectually dim but emotionally astute, she showed a core of candour that attracted sympathy and raised her above the neurotic self-love and coy in-fighting that was equally characteristic of her.
The remainder of the scandals make a tangy mix of glitter, debauchery and deception. Fatty Arbuckle was a fat, jolly man whose lone act of sexual brutality brought about a woman’s death. Lobsang Rampa was a West Country plumber who successfully posed as a Tibetan lama, trading whopping lies as ultimate truths. In Bertrand Russell and H.G. Wells high-minds and low appetites are mixed; neither were outright hypocrites − after all, at least they campaigned for the ‘free love’ they espoused. Oscar Wilde flaunted his homosexuality at a time when the judiciary had outlawed it and paid the price. Cynthia Payne, who adorned her cosy brothel with the sign, ’My House is CLEAN enough to be healthy…and DIRTY enough to be happy’, was little more than a mumsy landlady who discovered a niche-market in the quirks and oddities of middle-aged men – her clients included a few vicars. Bill Clinton was a phallic deity who got mixed up in politics and was betrayed by his acolytes and temple prostitutes, and the same might be said of President Kennedy.
Nearly fifty Luciferian downfalls are reported in Scandal! and, as a bonus, there’s an introduction in which Colin Wilson quotes Henry Fielding − ‘Love and scandal are the best sweeteners of tea’ − and proceeds to analyse why people take such shameful risks. While it is true to say that, once you’ve read this volume, you’ve had enough, Colin and Damon Wilson are nevertheless to be congratulated for providing a volume that is revoltingly riveting, vilely inspiring and appallingly appealing.