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Winston Churchill

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ABOUT BOOKS<br />

"Neither Fulsome<br />

Nor Fulminating":<br />

Colin Coote's The Other Club<br />

The Other Club, by Sir Colin Coote.<br />

London: Sidgwick &<br />

Jackson Ltd., 1971, hardbound,<br />

156 pages, illustrated<br />

with cartoons. Frequency:<br />

rare. Current<br />

range on the secondhand<br />

market $50-100/£30-60.<br />

Difficult to find, but always<br />

worth the search, is Colin<br />

Coote's jolly history of the dining<br />

club founded by <strong>Winston</strong> <strong>Churchill</strong><br />

and F. E. Smith in 1911 (and still going<br />

strong). Sir Colin knew Sir <strong>Winston</strong> for<br />

over forty years and compiled some of<br />

the earliest books of <strong>Churchill</strong> quotes.<br />

The death of the last of its two<br />

"pious founders" caused some to believe<br />

The Other Club might pass out of existence,<br />

but Members decided otherwise.<br />

Coote was assigned to write the Club's<br />

history "because I was the second senior<br />

Member and practically the whole<br />

membership wanted the Club to continue.<br />

Lord Longford, an Irish Earl, was<br />

a Member and also chairman of Sidgwick<br />

& Jackson, who were the original<br />

publishers of certain famous authors<br />

such as Rupert Brooke, who was the<br />

son of my contemporary Housemaster<br />

at Rugby School. Lord Longford willingly<br />

agreed to publish my account,<br />

which the Club had commissioned, and<br />

having been a frank friend of Sir <strong>Winston</strong><br />

from my 'teens upwards, I tried to<br />

produce something neither fulsome nor<br />

fulminating. The book never aimed at a<br />

vast circulation, though it achieved a<br />

modest success among the Club's Members<br />

and friends."<br />

Sir Colin's remarks come from<br />

correspondence, laid into Finest Hour's<br />

copy of The Other<br />

Club, with former editor<br />

Dalton Newfield,<br />

who was trying to obtain<br />

enough copies to<br />

satisfy demand (a problem<br />

we still have). "I<br />

can well understand<br />

that it was not intended<br />

for vast circulation,"<br />

Newfield wrote Sir<br />

Colin. "My desire for<br />

twenty-four copies was<br />

based on the idea that if<br />

it is difficult to find<br />

now it would be more<br />

so in future. Of course<br />

I also have your Maxims<br />

and Reflections, Sir<br />

<strong>Winston</strong> <strong>Churchill</strong>: A<br />

Self-Portrait, Wit and<br />

Wisdom and A <strong>Churchill</strong><br />

Reader, and even though there is<br />

overlapping, I feel that each is a valued<br />

part of my collection. How fortunate<br />

you were to have known him so well."<br />

Christopher Ford's review in<br />

The Guardian of 13 November 1971<br />

nicely illuminates this literary gem.<br />

Touch of the Other<br />

Christopher Ford<br />

Imagine: The Club, exclusive, immemorial,<br />

resonant with the noises<br />

of gentlemen dining. Imagine,<br />

though, two splendid braggadocios,<br />

quite thinly disguised under the pseudonyms<br />

of <strong>Churchill</strong> and F. E. Smith.<br />

Our heroes suspect the pitter-patter of<br />

black balls. So what do they do? They<br />

start The Other Club. Here, too, gen-<br />

The Co-founders of The Other Club in Punch, 2 November 1910.<br />

(Monypenny's Life of Disraeli had just been published).<br />

Mr. F. E. Smith: "Master of epigram—like me!"<br />

Mr. <strong>Winston</strong> <strong>Churchill</strong>: "Wrote a novel in his youth—like me!"<br />

Together: "Travelled in the East—like us. How does it end?"<br />

tlemen may dine, insulated from hoi<br />

polloi; and, if the members seem to be<br />

mainly of a political or military vocation,<br />

then where else would you look<br />

for gentlemen except landed on the<br />

grouse-moor?<br />

This, then, is the backcloth,<br />

nay, the stage itself, for Sir Colin<br />

Coote's latest literary adventure. And<br />

with such gusto does he ring up the<br />

curtain: "Nineteen Hundred and<br />

Eleven! What a year in which to be<br />

born! The Edwardian era, so like the<br />

Second Empire in France, was lying in<br />

the ashtray of history, like the last cigar<br />

puffed on his deathbed by its<br />

founder..."<br />

Sir Colin was ever a fantasist,<br />

except perhaps in his days as managing<br />

editor of the Daily Telegraph. He personally<br />

wrote a book called Sir <strong>Winston</strong><br />

<strong>Churchill</strong>: A Self-Portrait"; and he is >>><br />

FINEST HOUR IOI/46

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