Television
A bishop's body
Alexander Chancellor
Matthew Parris is a bit of a boy scout of an MP whose recreation is listed in Who's Who as 'distance running'. Since he was only 30 years old — he is still a mere 36 — he has been the member for the safe Conservative seat of West Derbyshire, an area of relatively low unemployment. Nevertheless, although of the 'dry' persua- sion, he is so eager to understand others less fortunate than himself that a couple of years ago he accepted a challenge from Granada's World in Action programme to spend a winter week in Tyneside, living on the dole. With a mere £26.80 to last him the week, he found he couldn't manage it. But he became friends with one of the unemployed men he met there, a certain Harry Morgan. Mr Morgan, who claims convincingly that he is no scrounger but would accept any job at all (provided it was on Tyneside), has been unemployed for four years and has to make do with a wife and five children on £67 a week. Although much older, stouter and poorer than Mr Parris, their friendship blossomed to such an extent that he made the MP godfather to one of his children; and, in response to Mr Parris's invitation, he in turn has spent a week living the life of an MP. The experience was filmed for World in Action and broadcast last Monday.
He could not be a real MP, of course (for the purposes of the programme, he was described rather whimsically as 'Honour- able Member for the Unemployed'), but he followed Mr Parris around in his consti- tuency, attended a debate in the House of Commons, and made two public speeches — one to Mr Parris's Conservative Asso- ciation in Derbyshire and the other to a luncheon of 70 City businessmen and bankers in the Savoy Hotel. His speeches were impressive for their sincerity, mod- eration and good humour. He had two principal messages: one, to the Derbyshire Conservatives, was that they should forego tax cuts and demand more Government investment in the depressed North; the other, to the City businessmen, was that they should invest in the North-East. His audiences applauded politely, but appeared unmoved. It was not a little poignant.
Commenting on his experience of Lon- don political life, Mr Morgan said he had been 'overawed by it all . . . by the sheer power of it.' But he was distressed to find the House of Commons like 'a jolly boys' club'. 'Politics is a serious business,' he said. I hope that at least somebody finds him a job.
If you live in London and forget to turn off your television set before you go to bed, you are quite likely to catch Thames Television's Night Thoughts which goes out seven days a week and is possibly the shortest programme in the history of televi- sion. It is a kind of pseudo-religious pro- gramme, lasting no more than two mi- nutes, on which anybody, of any race, colour or creed, suspected of leanings towards profundity, is allowed to bang on for a mercifully short time. It is commercial television's answer to suggestions that it might be cheap or superficial.
This week we have been treated to seven days in a row of the thoughts of the Bishop of Leicester, the Right Revd Cecil Rutt. His thoughts are entirely about knitting. Each day he has appeared on television with a new cardigan knitted by himself. I saw him on Monday night, leering weirdly out of the screen, explaining that knitting was the answer to his own personal prob- lem. 'A bishop's body isn't much in use in his job,' he said. 'But a man is a body as much as a soul.' The message was that you have to have a hobby which involves your body, or, at least, your hands. His is knitting. Knit, knit, knit. I was so curious about his obsession that I looked him up in Who's Who. (Sorry to keep doing that.) No mention of knitting there. All we learn from that great book is that Rutt is an expert on Korea. He is the author of no less than nine books on the subject, includ- ing one called Virtuous Women: Three Masterpieces of Traditional Korean Fiction. Night Thoughts is clearly a programme worth waiting up for.
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