Blonde ambition by Kevin Widdop
Published in Leeds Student on 04/02/05
A handful of bibliophiles have come to see the closest
thing to a celebrity Border's could enlist this week.
Starting with a preamble before reading excerpts from
her new book, Father Figure, Ann Widdecombe fights off
ostensibly irritating questions about whether her
position has helped boost her book sales: "People
say
you're only doing well because of your name and all
this but I've wanted to be a novelist since I was
six-years-old," she says unsentimentally.
Her two previous books, The Clematis Tree and An Act
of Treachery, both about familial discord, were
bestsellers. Such are her caustic views on anything
faintly promiscuous or risqué wed with the
serious and
grey subject matter that are her books, I wonder if
she is a pessimist? "No, no, no, no, no,
no," she
clarifies. "I don't have a pessimistic view of
life.
But I do have a realistic view and not all situations
turn out well."
Such as her departure from the shadow cabinet back in
2001, I suggest. Any regrets about how it turned out?
"None what-ev-er", stressing every syllable.
What
about
not going into a leadership challenge with Iain Duncan
Smith? "I would have liked to have gone for the
leadership. I couldn't. It wasn't that I decided I
didn't want to after all and it was a bad idea. I
couldn't actually get the support at Westminster
necessary to contend. It's no good brooding about
things. No regrets. None," her voice rising a
staccato.
Her petite size and distinctive, tilting gait belie
her fierce and take-no-prisoners demeanour. Answers as
succinct as they are forthrightly delivered, she says
of her status as a politician: "It's been both a
plus
and a minus. It's been a minus in so far as the
critical reviews have gone until this time. They've
either been favourable or mixed. Reviewers who've
reviewed the fact that I've written a book have
generally been unfavourable." Perhaps Widdecombe
is
nodding to a review by Edwina Currie, John Major's
former mistress, who derided The Clematis Tree for its
lack of sex. Although this may have had something to
do with Currie's Diaries knocking about the depths of
the book charts at the time.
Father Figure's protagonist, Jason, works at the
failing and beleaguered secondary school Morton's.
Widdecombe - who has no children and if she did
probably
wouldn’t attend a Morton’s - says she experienced such
a school in her time as Shadow Home Secretary. “It was
in Hull. It was obviously a school in which teachers
had given up, virtually no aspiration amongst the
children. If you said to the children, what do you
wanna be when you leave? They wouldn't have a clue.
They would shrug: ‘Naah’,” she says, contorting her
face to that of an ignorant adolescent. "Teachers
are
not there to promote shrugs. They're there to enthuse,
inspire. But I certainly have no Morton's in my
constituency – I wouldn't tolerate one, I can tell
you."
This political intolerance is typical of the
old-school Tories: Howard, Letwin, Davies et al. But
will this hard line be transferred into votes at the
election? "I think we've done rather well with
the
recent tax announcements [£5bn cuts] and we've
actually been taken seriously. I think there's been a
change. I think people are very disillusioned with
Blair and they're now at least willing to look at us.
At the moment we've got an answer for
everything," she
says critically. "Three or four policies like
this,
just bang home those messages and I see no reason at
all why people shouldn't vote for us."
With an education as diverse and rich as her political
career (elected to Parliament in 1987, serving as
Shadow Health, State and Home Secretary), attending
The Royal Naval School in Singapore, Widdecombe says
she writes on very long train journeys travelling home
and derives inspiration from “nowhere” but her
imagination. Whether this is a comment on said
imagination, however, remains unclear.
Yet despite her success as novelist and TV personality
on ITV’s Celebrity Fit Club, she still retains one
unabated passion. "I'm a politician.” Scoffing at
the
idea that she could be anything else, I suggest that
perhaps a published author and, and...“Look, Fit Club
takes three hours on a Saturday afternoon,” she states
adamantly. “The rest of the week is politics. I would
need to be Superwoman to do them altogether."
And that moniker may well be bestowed upon her by the
activist group Fathers 4 Justice. Batman and Robin
even showed up to the publishing party. So relevant is
the subject matter of a father being denied access to
his children that Widdecombe moved publication
forward. But does she support such actions as scaling
the Houses of Parliament and Buckingham Palace? "No,
I'm a democratic politician, so I can't. The
comparison I brought was with the suffragettes. Of
course it was totally wrong to bring themselves under
the King's horse. It put the jockey at risk, it put
the other riders at risk, it certainly put their own
lives at risk. It didn't half put the case on the
map," she says definitively.
Still sporting her blond cut and with something of a
cult following, she remains one of the most prominent
members in the party. So what constitutes a successful
third novel for this colourful Conservative? "It's
obviously lovely to see your books in the bestseller's
list. No author is going to say it's not. But the real
satisfaction from writing a book comes from the fan
mail. People writing in and saying, 'it kept me up all
night', 'as soon as I finished it I had to start it
again', 'it made me cry'. That is where the real
satisfaction comes from, that is what you just love to
read."
While some critics have savaged her wooden prose
style, I wonder if she has been inspired by any
novelist in particular? “I read so widely it's almost
impossible to say, so widely," she says modestly.
"If
you look at the collection of books on my bedside
table, I've got Ruth Rendell 'Thirteen Steps Down';
I've got a book I've just finished on The Mathematics
of Coincidence'; I've got 'The Best of Garfield', and
I've got Tom Holland's 'Rubicon', and I prefer it that
way because I wouldn't like to find myself writing in
the style of another author."
What about the controversial Brown's Britain by Robert
Peston? "I probably will read it, but it's a long
way
down my list." And the Blair/Brown rift? "I'm
not
interested. Half of Asia has just been submerged and
we talk about what Blair said to Brown and what Brown
said to Blair and when.” Exasperated, she adds: “I
mean, REALLY. I just want to say, grow up
everybody."
Her next book, The Idealist, "is a story of two
politicians, one Brit, one African, who start off with
huge ideals and the way that they are modified by the
practicalities of power." Now, if they were two
Brits,
it might sound a bit like...