Showing posts with label kinley roby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kinley roby. Show all posts

20100410

Tuesday July 1, 1975


Dominion Day, Canada. The start of yet another month. 1975 will be gone before we really begin to appreciate it. Warm, nice day again, but a little cloudy over Leeds.

Before I say anything else I'd just like to lodge another complaint about 'The King, the Press and the People: A Study of Edward VII' by Kinley Roby. Well, it's not a complaint as such, it's just a warning to future biographers of American birth writing about English royalty. DON'T. And when I say don't, I mean please do not write about English royalty when it's painfully obvious you know nothing about the subject. It's as bad as me writing a critical study of Abraham Lincoln!

It really is remarkable how the nation is going crazy over King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra. Derek Naylor, much against his will I might add, has been forced by our beloved editor into writing a five-part feature in the EP on King Edward and the Tranby Croft 'Baccarat Scandal.'

_____It's awful working with someone when you are besotted with them (Sarah). I can understand what the situation was like with CB and Gary. It will never work out, but we can always try. Friday will be an historic night indeed, and if I don't make a move then I might never receive the opportunity again.

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Monday June 30, 1975



Pleasant day, but piles of work to do. Sarah and I go shopping at lunchtime, and I lay hands on a new T-shirt for the coming Spanish trip. It cost £2.99 which isn't bad. The last one I got was £3.50. I'm not really making excuses, but the weather was so hot we just had to have a drink. So into the Ostlers we hurried and drank three pints of cider between us ( I had two thirds of the three pints). We arrange to do Town Street again next Friday, but starting at the Fleece instead, and at 7pm too. I can hardly wait.

Home at 5 feeling starved again. After tea I chase around the back lawn with the mower and do a good job of it I think. Dad was spraying all the roses with fly killer, and Susan was watering her 'night scented stocks' - so on the whole we made an industrious little bunch.

Do sod all in the evening other than read a really revolting book about King Edward VII and the Press, by a Yank called Robey, or something, and I really think it numbers among the worst books I've ever clapped eyes on. The memoirs of Raffaelle, Duchess of Leinster were the worst, but this thing comes a close 2nd. He's convinced that Queen Victoria was perverted sexually and insists of inventing members of the House of Lords. 'Earl Russell of Clarendon' for example. There's never been such a peerage title.

Saw Mr William Hamilton, MP, on TV tonight. He was discussing his book 'My Queen and I' - a revolting pack of lies and abuse. Hermione Gingold, the actress, really pulled him, Mr H, to pieces, and he hadn't a leg to stand on. This so called 'honourable' member for Mid-Fife ought to be transported to Uganda to take the place of Denis Hills, who faces a firing squad there on Friday. I'm sure Britain wouldn't mind, and General Amin isn't bothered who dies so long as he sees blood flowing. Sad really.

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Wednesday May 2, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11 Mum. To try and keep a journal, run and pub and a baby is asking the impossible. Gone is that old wit and sparkle b...