Auto/Biography 0967-5507 14 4 200712 Sage Publications Sage UK: London, England Book Review: Nothing But Biography Disraeli: a personal history. Christopher Hibbert, 2004. London: HarperCollins; ISBN 000714718X, 401 pp., £9.99, paper H.G.R.ErbenCorsanico, Lucca 393 396

393 Book ReviewNothing But BiographyDisraeli: a personal history. Christopher Hibbert, 2004. London: HarperCollins; ISBN 000714718X, 401 pp., £9.99, paper SAGE Publications, Inc.2007DOI: 10.1177/09675507070140040706 H.G.R.Erben Corsanico, Lucca Benjamin Disraeli (1840–81) who famously observed, `read no history, nothing but biography' is of particular interest to students of that disci- pline. How was it possible for such a born outsider – a vain, outlandish, dandified Venetian Jew – to become the leader of the Conservative Party and twice Prime Minister? Certainly, he did not suffer from that that now common contemporary malady, low self-esteem: his high opinion of him- self never faltered and he did not suffer the hindrance of noble political ideals. As to his appearance, imagine a very Jewish-looking young man in tight red leggings, a blue jacket, a gold cummerbund and sporting long, black hair arranged in ringlets, his hands and neck bejewelled. While still a young man, his father Isaac D'Israeli (one of the most erudite and learned men in London) took his son to literary evenings, usually held at 394 the home of the publisher John Murray. It was here that his education – literary, conversational and social – seriously began. For some reason, a man with a patent dislike of the middle classes, with no taste for demagogy and with an un-English cast of mind reached greater political heights than any other British politician, with the possible excep- tion of Winston Churchill. How then was this achieved? Disraeli committed himself from his late teens until the end of his life to a ceaseless round – in London and in the country – of socializing with the nobility, the mighty and the influential. Among this group he endeavoured to create intense friend- ships. In many ways, he was more salesman than politician: he convinced himself of his own sincerity. That was his trick. One was never sure whether he was homosexual, heterosexual or bisexual. He may not have been entirely sure himself – such matters were subordinated in his psychology to the predominant drive of wishing to ally himself with useful and interesting connections – that these should be men or women, young or old were not considerations that occupied him. If he struck some as horribly affected, he struck more as a man to like and then a man to follow. And among his admirers and confidants was Queen Victoria. Disraeli had a specific politi- cal gift, which at the height of his success has never been bettered – an abil- ity to expose the weakness of his political opponents. It was this that saw off Peel in 1841 and which began his long period in the limelight of British pol- itics. As a Jew he knew he should make an appeal to traditional institutions – he was a dandy cosmopolitan who derided dandified cosmopolitanism. Disraeli was debt ridden most of his life. He had continual battles with creditors, bailiffs and moneylenders from whom he often had to go into hiding (not infrequently abroad). Much of his writing was undertaken to make inroads into his dreadful finances. As soon as he managed to pay off some of his creditors and lessen his burden, he immediately got himself into even greater debt. This situation never greatly troubled or discom- forted him. He was given some leeway by a fortuitous combination of cir- cumstances, namely the generosity of his wife, the inheritance from his father, the land and title bestowed on him by the Queen and the legacy of a Mrs Brydges (granted on condition that she should be buried in the vault with him and his wife). When he first received Mrs Brydges' offer, he had never heard of the lady. However, a lifelong correspondence ensued of the most flattering kind. Such correspondence with several women and men friends was conducted on an almost daily basis. The picture drawn of Disraeli is often not a pretty one and yet the reader of Hibbert's biography often finds its subject sympathetic. Why? In part, it is because he had such an original personality and seems so different from the contemporaries he stood among, and, in part, because although spoken ill of (with usually an anti-Semitic slant) he did not speak ill of his less than generous friends and allies. 395 After a bloodied beginning, he became a brilliant orator. His speeches rarely lasted less than three hours, often four, and sometimes five. He spoke in a quiet voice and without notes, his arguments were lucidly struc- tured and almost always he had the full attention of the House. When he neared the climax of a section of his speech he modulated his voice with great effect until, with panache, he administered the coup de grâce. (Palmerston was so skewered – after which Disraeli would walk over to him and exchange a few comforting words.) The House would be enthralled at his often-repeated bravura performances. Of the many con- gratulations he received, his own were conspicuous among them. During the late 1870s, Disraeli suffered increasingly bad health. He was tormented by dreadful attacks of gout as well as severe bronchitis. In spite of this, he would not ease up on attending dinner parties, usually while in the greatest of pain and discomfort. Particularly, he would never evade a visit to the Queen, who was always very anxious to see him and was most caring and solicitous towards him. He loathed Balmoral but never shirked the long journey. Only once did Disraeli fail to accommodate the Queen. It was when he had to persuade her to allow Princess Alexandra to go home to Denmark during the Prince's six months visit to India, a trip on which the Prince had refused to take his wife. The relationship of the Queen and Disraeli can perhaps be best described as a caring and profound platonic love affair. Disraeli agonized over ever new ways to please the Queen. Why not make her Empress of India? As he prepared the ground, it was wise and advantageous to obtain an important stake in the Suez Canal. He knew he would never get the four million pounds required from Parliament, so he approached the Rothschilds, who simply enquired to whom the cheque was to be made out. At the Congress of Berlin, he obtained Cyprus for the Crown. Disraeli also wrote a number of good novels. One thinks with dread of what Alec Douglas Home, Margaret Thatcher or John Major might have ever turned out in that line. Coningsby, Sybil and Tancred sold in their thousands and are important `condition of England' novels. Lothair is a work of rare political satire and still hugely enjoyable. For Endymion Disraeli was paid £10,000, which in today's terms would be the equiva- lent of 50 times that figure. In spite of all his vanity, Disraeli's novels taken together demonstrate his feeling for the poor and the beaten down and he did say of his writings, `my works are my life'. Needless to say, Hibbert's excellent book treats Disraeli's political life seriously, but what remains for me most remarkable in the work is his bringing home to those of us interested in biography how strange it was that a man like Disraeli should have been British prime minister. Disraeli died of respiratory failure at his house in Curzon Street on 19 April 1881. The Queen had offered to visit him during his last days, but he declined 396 saying, `no it is better not. She would only ask me to take a letter to Albert'. The Prince and Princess of Wales, his parliamentary and cabinet colleagues, his friends, the high aristocracy and many others attended his funeral. Mr Gladstone did not.