So then I thought: “It’s time I did another book”. I miss the smell of a newly printed, freshly minted tome. And then I thought that Mr Editor seemed to like the little bits and stories wot i rote when we, er, celebrated my 40 years after the masthead three years ago.
So then I thought about the publisher who we once gave a lift to the airport who said, languishing in the opulent back seat of our German motor: “Why don’t you write a memoir. I’d publish it”. He was, of course, under the misguided opinion that I had done other things in my life than sit in a darkened room everyday and crank out another drawing. And play golf twice a week. Of course I haven’t. And anyway I was well aware that Her Indoors, sitting next to me in the car when he said that ‘write a memoir’ thing was thinking, in 10ft-high letters, “OVER MY DEAD BODY”.
So this isn't a memoir. Certainly not, heaven forbid. It isn't a history. But it has memories and potted historical facts. It is just a few bits and pieces written down about the nine taoisigh I have had the … what would be the word? Honour? No. Distinction? No. Pleasure, no, not really…had the necessity to work under since I moved to Dublin in 1976 to contribute an almost daily cartoon to The Irish Times.
Not being a journalist, I am exempt from actually having to check anything that I write so, in advance, I apologise if I have got anything wrong.
And also, in these straitened times, I have added value, as one is supposed to do, says Mrs Merkel. Apart from reprinting a bunch of old cartoons that go with the various governments, I have attempted through a long gruelling May to paint new portraits of the gents in question. Without the safety net of looking at their pictures. just out of my head. With real watercolours and brushes and pencils. The lot. No expense spared. No, please, don’t thank me. Buying the book is enough reward.
If I had waited a couple of years, days, hours (who knows with Irish politics?) I could have called it Turner's Ten Taoisigh. But there's only nine of the ba …blessed people; Cosgrave, Lynch, Haughey, FitzGerald, Bruton, Reynolds, Ahern, Cowen and Enda.
If I had been a bit more proactive, withering and aggressive down the years, I could have called it, stealing from Spike Milligan – Taoisigh – My Part in Their Downfall. But I'm not arrogant enough to suggest it. Just arrogant enough to mention it.
PS I have tried, wherever possible, to print cartoons here that haven’t appeared in any of my other books. The length of the chapters reflect, generally, the length of time each taoiseach was in office. Thus Bertie gets far more coverage than anyone else.
Liam Cosgrave’s taoiseachship had only been going a wet weekend (as far as I was concerned) when he was replaced by Jack Lynch. Thus there are few cartoons of Cosgrave in my files, folders, old books and corners of the studio. So I have included a few cartoons about his cabinet from that time. They were probably the most interesting thing about his term of office.
Turner's Taoisigh: My Brush With Kildare Street, by Martyn Turner, is published by Irish Times Books, 146pp, €12.99. It will be reviewed in The Irish Times tomorrow by Diarmaid Ferriter, professor of modern Irish history at University College Dublin
