Here comes the Sun. . . and the Telegraph and the Times and the Mirror (but not the Star)
STEPHEN GLOVER
Let me make my position clear. I like the Beatles, and still very occasionally listen to their records. They make me think of a misspent youth. One can take refuge in the delicious delusion that those were more innocent days.
George Harrison, it is generally agreed, was a nice chap who played the guitar very well and composed one or two memorable tunes. But he had — in the words of Philip Norman's unusually level-headed assessment in the Daily Mail — *only a fraction of [the] brilliance of John Lennon and Paul McCartney'. And yet this 'rather unhappy and bitter character' (Norman again), who seems to have been no musical genius, received a more lavish media send-off than a great statesman or much-loved monarch.
The tabloids pushed the boat out, with the exception of the Daily Star, whose coverage of this momentous event was surprisingly cursory. In the Mirror we had to get to page 15 before it acknowledged that there was anything in the world to do other than extol and mourn the life and death of George Harrison. The Sun's treatment was equally extensive, and in a signed leader the paper's editor, David Yelland, lost control of his prose. CA lovely man has passed this way'.) The Daily Mail and the Daily Express were a little more restrained, though also (the Norman piece in the Mail excepted) in the mode of saluting a departing genius.
Was this coverage excessive? A shade so, I would say. Some readers under 30 — who don't know when the 'summer of love' was and don't recall the anti-American riots in Grosvenor Square — may have been a bit bewildered. Some of the older ones may have wondered whether George Harrison was such a towering figure. Popular papers naturally devote a great deal of space to popular heroes, and doubtless they know their markets much better than I do, but their coverage did seem rather overdone.
However, it was the broadsheets which really appalled me. Perhaps — after a decade of watching the inexorable dumbingdown of the broadsheets and their gradual adoption of a tabloid, celebrity-dominated agenda, though without the occasional irony — I should not have been taken aback, but I was. Where a front-page story, an obituary and a couple of features once would have sufficed, we were blitzed with articles, many of which overlapped or had little interesting to say. God knows what these papers will do
when Paul McCartney dies. There won't be enough newsprint in the world to contain all their howlings.
The Daily Telegraph led the way — an enormous picture of George Harrison and accompanying piece crowding out all other stories on its front page. The next four pages were devoted to his works. The Times, though typographically more restrained on its front, led with the idiotic sub-tabloid headline 'Queen mourns Beatle George', and found as much space on its inside pages as the Telegraph to list George Harrison's achievements. The Guardian and the Independent offered similar fare. The /tidy even published a leader which trembled on the edge of Yelland-like absurdity: 'Harrison slipped out of the intensity of his fame as a Beatle with something very like grace.' All four papers ran long, reverential obituaries of the sort normally reserved for titanic figures who have changed the fate of nations.
Why did the broadsheets go over the top? It may have something to do with the age of their editors. All of them are in their forties — in fact Peter Stothard of the Times has just turned 50 — and, no doubt like the rest of us, they look back on those far-off days in a rather hazy and sentimental way. Indeed, unless I am much mistaken, in my mind's eye I can see my old friend Peter Stothard, swathed in that kaftan of his, strumming his guitar as clouds of incense rise to the ceiling. The death of the third Beatle transported these editors back to their youth, and the poor man was invested with a significance that his gifts hardly warranted.
But this is a partial explanation, not at all an excuse. The treatment of George Harrison's death suggests that the broadsheets have lost all sense that they are the guardians of higher culture. Earlier this week a correspondent wrote to the Telegraph wondering whether the death of Elgar would have received such wide coverage as that of George Harrison. The answer is that of course it did not in 1934 — newspapers then knowing the value of restraint — but nor would it now. You may say that
there are no composers alive of the stature of Elgar, but there are great philosophers and great novelists, and when they die the broadsheets do not clear the decks as they have done for the third Beatle.
Hostilities have broken out following Simon Heifer's critical article in this magazine last week about Mark Bolland, Prince Charles's spin doctor. Mr Heffer, you may remember, questioned whether Mr Bolland is an entirely good thing. Last Saturday's Daily Telegraph took up his theme with even greater ferocity in a very lengthy piece, asking whether 'the puppet-master of St James's [has] finally pulled one string too many.' The article alleged that Mr Bolland practically spoonfeeds the Daily Mail with juicy stories injurious to the 'minor royals'. Both pieces are believed to have been inspired by Lord Luce, the Queen's new Lord Chamberlain, and minor royals such as the Earl and Countess of Wessex, who are cheesed off at being (allegedly) done down by Mr Bolland.
One of the oddest aspects of this case is
that Mr Heifer the ringleader of the antiBolland camp — is himself a Daily Mail columnist. (So am I, come to that, though I don't think it is relevant here.) Strictly speaking, since Holland is fingered as a vital Daily Mail source, Mr Helfer should be on his side, and it does him great credit that he is not. Mr Heifer has even been gently chided by the Mail's Ephraim Hardcastle (aka Peter McKay) who has loyally sprung to Mr Bolland's defence. As this is being portrayed in the rest of the press as a spat between the Telegraph Group (which includes The Spectator) and Associated Newspapers (the Daily Mail), I can only hope that Mr Heifer does not get caught in the crossfire.
I propose to conduct my own investigations before deciding whether Mr Bolland is a rogue or not. My point now is that he should relax, and not spend too much time spinning stories in the press in his own defence. The mark of a successful spin doctor is that he should be attacked — as Alastair Campbell, Tony Blair's spin doctor, could tell you. While Mr Bolland beavered away in obscurity, it was unclear if he was doing a good job. Now that he has been turned over — with other spin doctors fuelling the flames — this may be adduced as proof that Mr Bolland has finally confirmed his reputation as a top-flight spin doctor.
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