High life
Brave Jane
Taki
The alleged regal gaffe over the Irishness of pigs has a redeeming value. It has proved liberal economist John Kenneth Galbraith correct for once. The most eminent Canadian since Margaret Trudeau says that all publicity, including the bad, is good when one is selling a product. I don't know what Princess Margaret was trying to sell but she definitely publicised her tour. And for once I agree with Galbraith. British Leyland will sell lots more Range-Rovers now that Princess Anne's husband is advertising them, while royal biographer Anthony Holden and publisher Lord Weidenfeld should be able to continue to live in the style to which subject of the book is accustomed — or almost.
And, of course, one should not forget the pigs. Instead of having to bear the brunt of perjorative remarks and references, theirs will be a species which will be kissed and hugged by most American politicians running for office next year. Publicity is manna from heaven in today's consumer society. Think what state the Duke of Bedford's estate would be in without it. And how many people would have watched the debut of Mainstream on 9 October if it hadn't been for the porcine noises made by certain critics over the debut of Lady Jane Wellesley as interviewer? In condemning her presence on the show some of these critics displayed courage unparalleled since the press declared President Nixon and his family a free-fire zone after his resignation.
Not being a homebody I nevertheless delayed going out until the Iron Duke's descendant had appeared in living colour in my TV room. See what I mean about publicity. And I am hardly a captive audience. Every time I read about Waterloo I root for my Corsican ancestor and am invariably disappointed. Of course if Jane Wellesley's ancestor had been as organised as Mainstream was that night his descendants would not now be living on Hyde Park Corner, but that is another matter altogether, And if Lady Jane's air time had not been cut as much as it was, perhaps some of those critics would now be eating what they usually eat, instead of being smug. But again that is a matter for conjecture.
What is important is that both the BBC and the press have heaped abuse on probably the bravest person the Wellesley family has produced since the man who beat my hero 164 years ago. But taking cheap shots has, after all, always been the main trade mark of a critic.
All this was predictable of course. Although the monotony of equality is unbearable to me, most people resent not hearing a Parkinson-like accent interview ing a star like Claudio Abbado. I found Jane Wellesley very very good. She gave the impression that she and the conductor were sharing a private joke and that made their conversation all the more believable. He is an attractive man with an obviously roving eye. Their chemistry came through.
Not to the critics, however,. They hate that kind of success. It's based on inequality, or nature's revenge on the socialists, and that cannot be tolerated. Jonathan Dimbleby, who invariably gets it wrong, suggested that she should have stuck to music. How one talks convincingly about serious music in so short a time is another matter. And anyway Abbado loves football and had expressed a wish that topics other than just music be included in the interview. Needless to say, Clive James got it right. Mr James is my kind of man, and his roving eye must have found Lady Jane very appealing. He made the witty comment about Kevin Keegan and music. It was, reputedly, the only constructive criticism, and I now hear that Ms Wellesley is trying to get Keegan to talk about music.
I had met Ms Wellesley once before that show and had found her disappointingly professional. She refused dinner because she was working on something called auto visual. After the show she was still unavailable because she was again working on her technique. I find this kind of situation ludicrous. Hacks and TV people are notoriously indolent. Perhaps the resentment towards the delectable Jane stems from the fact that she is not out with the rest of her kind dropping her chin and snorting hanpY dust. Who needs people like her stirring things up among the uglies. I hope she.doesn't make it, so I can take her out to dinner.