Lord Beaverbrook at Home

By BERNARD LEVIN

MR. Tom DRIBERG9S recent biography of Lord , Beaverbrook fell uneasily between what might be described as two stools; it was neither a straightforward attack on the man, nor a straight- forward defence of him. And indeed the same difficulty must face any would-be biographer of this controversial figure. A man who has played as many parts as Lord Beaverbrook in his time has, who has been by turns politician, historian, crusader—such a man cannot fit easily into the pigeon-holes of right and left, or even of right and wrong. The fact is, there cannot be a truly objective biography of Lord Beaverbrook during his lifetime; not only because there are obviously things that cannot yet be told about him and those whose lives have touched his, but also because he has been so much a part of the history of our troubled times.

This being so, Mr. Liers has found a happy, if limited, solution to the problem. His book* makes no attempt to put this enigmatic figure in its final historical place—nor indeed does he claim that it does. Mr. Liers has written the story of Beaver- brook the man rather than Beaverbrook the public figure. 'Each incident,' says the publishers' note, 'is one that the author . . . himself has seen or one that has been reported by reliable authorities.' And a series of incidents is what the book is. Its tone may be gauged from the dedication : To the beaver, the most diligent of God's creatures, a gentle humorist, a lover of home and family, and America's first colonist, whose sacrifices have helped to make our country great. No 'debunking,' no 'knocking' here, one can see immediately! But I for one am quite content that this should be so. Lord Beaverbrook has his admirers and his detractors; I can sec no harm in one of the former, inspired by an obvious affec- tion, coming forward with this selection of stories about the great man in his natural habitat. Mr. Liers does not pretend that his book is a final judg- ment on his subject, or indeed that it is a par- ticularly weighty contribution to that judgment. We take or leave his artless, charining little book for what it is—a labour of love. 'For many years,' writes Mr. Liers, 'I hesitated to write a book about * A BEAVER'S STORY. By Emil E. Liers. (Hodder and Stoughton, 12s. 6d.) beavers. So many old-time trappers and game- wardens that I knew . . . seemed better authori- ties on the subject that I. . . . None of these people has written a beaver book yet, but I have consulted with each one oitheni in preparing this story of a beaver. . . . They have helped both in confirming my findings and observations on beaver behaviour and in offering new ideas and reports from their own experience with beavers.'

And with that in mind, we can read Mr. Liers with pleasure and profit. It came as news to me, for instance, to learn that Lord Beaverbrook has a nickname—Akella, which Mr. Liers tells us is 'the Ojibway word for "leader."' And this is how he describes the man :

A beautiful big male . . . quite gaunt . . . on his back he carried scars from the attacks of older . . . patriarchs . . . a strong and vigorous . . . beaver.

Already the subject is coming alive with that simple physical description (though surely 'he weighed close to seventy pounds must be a mis- print? I presume a hundred and seventy pounds is what is intended), and when he adds: 'Each day Akella worked industriously from late afternoon till dawn' we see immediately the relentless life of the great newspaper proprietor, who will allow his staff no rest because he takes none himself. Though it is soon made clear that his Lordship will brook no interference in the running of his empire, Mr. Liers telling us that he 'posted and frequently renewed special beaver "No Trespassing" signs all around. Every beaver . . . posts and guards his own territory. . . . Nearly every night Akella made the rounds of his signposts. . . .' Anyone who has worked in any of Lord Beaverbrook's newspapers knows very well the feeling that used to spread throughout the building when the word came down that the old man was doing the rounds! And Mr. Hers conveys very well the fierce joy men like Lord Beaverbrook take in the hard work that has made them what they are. Sometimes, we learn, he 'worked . . . very late, until the sun was well up . . . and water birds flew in to look for breakfast. . . .' Not that his Lordship's work has been achieved without opposition and jeers from those who lack the stamina to work on till the very birds feel it is time for breakfast; it is not difficUlt to recognise the upstart Labour politician Mr. Liers contemp- tuously refers to as 'a newly arrived bittern,' with `his rhythmic, pump-like call—"Go-hunk-ah Go-hunk-ah !" '

Only a man who does not know Lord Beaver- brook, Mr. Liers implies, would shout 'Go-hunk- ah !' after him. Certainly his employees would not; there is a touching (but, as anyone who knows conditions in the Beaverbrook press will tell you, quite accurate) description of Lord Beaverbrook interviewing new reporters, 'learning to know them and talking to them in encouraging grunts.' It has long been well known that Lord Beaver- brook took a close personal interest in the con-

struction of the Express building at the corner of

Fleet Street and Shoe Lane. But Mr. Liers now tells us that his Lordship actually participated in the building work. 'For almost two weeks . . .

He worked each night . . . and often slept there in the daytime, in a shallow trench. . . . Akella was at work on some exciting new project. . . .

After a night or two of steady work . . . Akella would grow lonesome. . . . Akella could not

explain . . . just what he was doing, but some- how . . . he was making provision for the . . . future. . '. Night after night he cut and carried

. . . stones as large as he could carry. . . . Grad- ually, the mound . . . rose . . . like an island.' This is typical of the man whose portrait Mr.

Liers is painting; like all great empire-builders, Lord Beaverbrook is driven to participate directly in all the activities of his empire. And in the tough world of Fleet Street such incessant attention to detail is vital. It is a cold and ruthless world,.and Mr. Liers hints at some of the struggles Lord Beaverbrook has had in his day, and the desperate expedients he has been forced to employ in the fight for survival. 'He would raise his nose just a fraction of an inch . . . exhale silently . . . and sink . . . again so quietly that no enemy's eye could detect his presence. This process could be repeated time after time, as long as danger threatened.'

And so the story goes on, detail after detail being added until we feel we know (and, if I dare say it, lave) Lord Beaverbrook as well as his latest biographer. It is a one-sided story, of course; and Mr. Liers would scarcely pretend that it is not.

But it is a real and important side, and right well Mr. Liers has described it. It remains only to say that Mr. Ray Sherin's illustrations admirably

complement the text, and that his frontispiece, here reproduced, though it is, of course, in a more traditional style, can compare very well with Mr. Graham Sutherland's great portrait. ,