Media/My Trade: A Short History of British Journalism By Andrew Marr: Andrew Marr, political editor of the BBC, is a ringer for Russia's President Putin and is almost as well-known as him in these parts. A Glaswegian without a trace of a Scots accent, Marr has an important job and he does it well. His style of broadcasting has been described as "serious populism" and he brings a light touch to the reporting of serious matters, writes Deaglán de Bréadún
There is a lighter touch still in this book, an unusual amalgamation of autobiography and history, with an element of "The Rough Guide to British Journalism". It's a great read and the author is adept at describing what they used to call, on the old radio programme, The School Around the Corner, a "funny incident".
A particular favourite is his description of a lunch sometime in the 1980s with the late Alan Clark, Tory minister, diarist, historian and bon viveur. It took place in the dead of winter, the restaurant was cold and cheerless, and the food took ages to come. Marr and his colleague, Alan Travis of the Guardian, invited Clark to choose "some decent wine" to cheer him up.
"His eyes lit up, his lizard smile returned and, two hours and two bottles later, Mr Travis and I returned through the slush wondering desperately how we were ever going to explain the horrendous cost of our Burgundy to our respective offices."
Indeed, the pair were so panic-stricken by the size of the bill, they forgot that Clark, who was Minister for Trade at the time, had sung for his supper, or rather lunch, by giving them a very good story indeed about his own collusion in breaking trade embargoes against Saddam Hussein's Iraq, a regime he found rather less distasteful at the time than the Ayatollah Khomeini's Iran.
Another dimension to the book is that it provides a how-to guide to the more arcane aspects of the business, such as the art of lunching politicians to get stories out of them. There should be drink, but not too much. The reporter must do some homework on newsworthy issues that are likely to arise. Sometimes the politician arrives with a specific story in mind and very few will give you nothing at all.
"On rare occasions, the story is so good, with so much detail or such strong quotes, that a short visit to the loo to jot notes down on a paper napkin is needed. Few pleasures on this little green planet are so glorious as tucking a real story into your breast pocket and returning for some cheese and a final glass of claret."
As well as lunches there are dinners where the relatively humble hacks can mingle with the grandees of British political life (there are no grandees in Irish politics, thank goodness). The disgraced Jeffrey Archer used to throw the best parties and Marr describes how, at one such occasion, an unnamed Tory minister arrived in the middle of a ferocious row with his wife. "In front of a circle of awestruck journalists she announced that she was off, 'so you can pick up some pretty boys -we all know that's what you like'."
Marr's book is that kind of racy read and great fun for anyone interested in the media - and who can afford not to be these days? There are serious points too and the author is concerned about the growth of an office-based editorial culture, whereby journalists sit at their desk and use press releases or other forms of spoonfeeding to write stories that are aimed to flatter and titillate the type of readers the marketing people have already identified for them in advance.
Marr was for a time editor of the London Independent where he decided to carry out a very radical redesign, with front pages that looked more like a poster than a paper. There were two owners at the time, David Montgomery and Tony O'Reilly, and Marr describes a visit to Sir Anthony's home at Castlemartin, Co Kildare, to show him some samples of the proposed new layout.
"He looked long and closely at them, then sat back. 'Well, Andrew,' he said, 'I like them. I think they are very bold and daring. Personally I like them very much.' I sagged with relief and began to smile. 'On the other hand,' said the great man very slowly, 'I thought exactly the same about New Coke.' That, of course, had been the most infamous marketing catastrophe in US corporate history."
Fired from the Independent "by fax", Marr was brought back but then resigned and in due course landed on his feet at the BBC where he reports finding some initial difficulty getting accepted by the cruel race of television reviewers who couldn't decide whether he looked more like Gobby the House Elf or Plug from "The Bash Street Kids". Others accused him of being a "Tony Crony" but it must be said that Marr plays it straight, in this listener's experience. One even detects a certain distaste for Blair as a kind of Henry II figure who smiles on all who greet him but sends out hatchetmen to do his dirty work.
On the historical side, Marr reminds us that the Westminster Lobby, that tight inner circle of political hacks, was born out of a Fenian dynamite attack in 1885 which provoked a ban on all journalists but this was later eased to allow a select few to return. Compilers of pub quizzes please note. Written in an easy, conversational style, this book contains some striking insights as well as a barrelful of media anecdotes, although the lack of an index means you have to flick through the pages to reach your favourite yarn. Aspiring journos would do well to read it as they make up their minds whether to follow an occupation where the work can be hard, the financial rewards modest, but the fun unbounded.
Deaglán de Bréadún is Foreign Affairs Correspondent of The Irish Times
My Trade: A Short History of British Journalism By Andrew Marr Macmillan, 385pp. £20