Nobody who became somebody

Press, 1 June 1985, Page 20

Nobody who became somebody

Chips: The Diaries of Sir Henry Channon. Edited by Robert Rhodea James. Penguin, 1984. 583 pp, index. $16.95 (paperback). (Reviewed by Joan Curry) Just about anybody who was anybody in England from the First World War until after the Second has mentioned “Chips” Channon in his or her diaries, letters, or memoirs. He seemed to bob up at the edges of other people’s lives, just one of the countless people who dined, week-ended in the country, or occupied the better seats and boxes at the theatre. Such people seemed to have little purpose other than to dress the stage, form a background for the leading players of their time. Chips Channon was an American who turned his back on the land of his

birth and whole-heartedly adopted the land of his forebears — England. He married Lady Honor Guinness and slipped easily into the safe Tory seat of Southend-on-Sea vocated first by his father-in-law and then by his mother-in-law. His political career was of minor importance. He lived mainly on inhertited money. But on the evidence of this, an edited version of his extant diaries first published in 1967, his social life was very grand indeed. A glance through the index shows it to be peppered with rank and title from royalty downwards. And in social terms you - h ave to be somebody if you have called a Queen by her Christian name and even been a little in love with her, or invited a King to dinner, or been privy to the information, way back in 1941, that Philip of Greece was to

marry the then Princess Elizabeth. But the mystery is, what was it about this obscure back-bencher, that gave him access to such distinguished company? The mystery is not really solved by reading the diaries. It is, however, possible to make some deductions for what they are worth. Chips Channon was essentially an observer who happened to be well-placed to see what was going on. He was probably one of those amiable, unthreatening, discreet people that others take for granted. He was dependably a gentleman. Lord “Rab” Butler has called him “a social catalyst.” He provided warmth and comfort at his house in Belgrave Square and his guests could be reasonably certain of bright and , • wideranging conversation. He was i loyal to his friends, even those who had , fallen from public favour such as “* Neville Chamberlain, Lord Curzon, Edward VIII and Mrs Simpson. As a politician he made no mark in the House, but he attended assiduously and was present on most of the momentous occasions of his day, although he once wrote: “but I wish I sometimes understood what I was voting for, and what against.” He was mildly ambitious socially, but naive about it: “I must really try and be a Peer before the next coronation” he wrote wistfully after watching George VI crowned in Westminster Abbey. The. book is probably rather like the gossipy dinner table conversations enjoyed by Chips Channon and his notable friends. The diaries do throw interesting light on events of political and social significance of the time, but it is more likely that any interest in a book of this kind will arise because, as Channon himself wrote, “Reformers are always finally neglected while the memoirs ot the trivolous will always eagerly be read.” This is the diary of a nobody who was at least a kind of somebody after all.