Without A Pen In My Hand I

I Think That Most Of My Books Are Part Of Some Process Of Self-education, Often About The Places I Go To. Most Of All, They Are About The Peculiar Tension Between Institutional Loyalty And Loyalty To Oneself; The Mystery Of Patriotism, For A Brit Of My Age And Generation, Where It Runs, How It Should Be Defined, What It's Worth And What A Corrupting Force It Can Be When Misapplied. All That Stuff Is Just In Me And It Comes Out In The Characters. I Don't Mean To Preach, But I Know I Do, And I'm A Very Flawed Person. It's Quite Ridiculous.

The Monsters Of Our Childhood Do Not Fade Away, Neither Are They Ever Wholly Monstrous. But Neither, In My Experience, Do We Ever Reach A Plane Of Detachment Regarding Our Parents, However Wise And Old We May Become. To Pretend Otherwise Is To Cheat.

Why Did I Desert Labour? Total Bloody Disillusionment. The Party Was A Corpse. It Had No Ideology, It Became Detached, Old, Spineless And Needed To Go.

Unfortunately It Is The Weak Who Destroy The Strong.

Love Means Having Something To Betray.