In the Critics this week

Adam Kirsch on stalking, Richard Mabey on urban nature, David Herman on TV nostalgia and much more.

In the Critics section of this week’s New Statesman, writer and former television producer David Herman takes aim at the cosy nostalgia of British TV drama. “British television is on a huge nostalgia binge,” Herman writes. Taking as his examples two enormous ratings successes, Call the Midwife and Downton Abbey, Herman bemoans the “smoothing out” of history that occurs in most of the dramas that make it on to our screens. What we get is “simpler world with the complexities of real history removed”. Series such as these compare unfavourably with the finest fruits of American and Scandinavian TV drama. “A central issue of many of these series,” Herman observes, “is the border between good and evil and the constant worry that the border will not hold.”

Our lead book reviewer this week is the American critic and poet Adam Kirsch, who writes about James Lasdun’s memoir of being stalked, Give Me Everything You Have. Lasdun’s stalker, a former creative writing student of his, traffics in the worst kind of anti-Semitic abuse. “Give Me Everything You Have,” Kirsch argues, “joins a short list of insightful books about Jewish experience and anxiety in the post-9/11 world, along with Howard Jacobson’s The Finkler Question and Philip Roth’s The Plot Against America.”

Also in Books: Richard Mabey reviews Field Notes from a Hidden City, an “urban nature diary” by Esther Woolfson (“Woolfson … isn’t of the school of ‘edgeland’ writers who view urban wildness as insurrectionary … Field Notes from a Hidden City … is genial, readable, warm-hearted and on nature’s side”); David Cesarani reviews Helga’s Diary: a Young Girl’s Account of Life in a Concentration Camp by Helga Weiss (“Helga’s diary resounds with a ferocious will to endure conditions of astonishing cruelty”); Bryan Appleyard reviews The God Argument: the Case Against Religion and for Humanism by A C Grayling (“Grayling, like the other [new atheist] horsemen, goes too far. He narrowly defines religion as a system of physical beliefs and then says such a system has nothing to offer the world”); Anita Sethi reviews Lucy Ellmann’s novel Mimi (“Ellmann’s work is characterised by a delightfully playful style”). PLUS: “The Revenant”, a poem by Fiona Sampson.

In the Books Interview, Jonathan Derbyshire talks to the historian Paul Kennedy about his book Engineers of Victory: the Problem Solvers Who Turned the Tide in the Second World War. “I’m tilting against a very popular strand of literature that says, ‘The decisive battle, the decisive intelligence breakthrough’,” Kennedy tells Derbyshire. “I’m saying that history is much more complicated than that.”

Elsewhere in the Critics: Rachel Cooke reviews two BBC2 documentaries about the railways; Ryan Gilbey reviews Terrence Malick’s To the Wonder and the screen adaptation of David Mitchell’s novel Cloud Atlas; Matt Trueman considers the popularity of banker bashing on the London stage; Kate Mossman reviews new albums by John Grant and Steve Earle; and Antonia Quirke’s listens to various radio programmes from her sick bed.

PLUS: Will Self’s Madness of Crowds.

Members of the cast of Downton Abbey (Photo: Getty Images)
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Would the BBC's Nazi drama SS-GB have felt half so resonant a year ago?

This alternate history is freighted with meaning now we're facing the wurst-case scenario. 

Would SS-GB have felt half so resonant a year ago? Though the clever-after-the-fact Nostradamus types out there might disagree, I can’t believe that it would. When it comes to the Second World War, after all, the present has helpfully stepped in where memory is just beginning to leave off. The EU, in the process of fragmenting, is now more than ever powerless to act in the matter of rogue states, even among its own membership. In case you hadn’t noticed, Hungary, for instance, is already operating as a kind of proto-fascist state, led by Viktor Orbán, a man whom Jean-Claude Juncker, the president of the European Commission, jokingly likes to call “the dictator” – and where it goes, doubtless others will soon follow.

The series (Sundays, 9pm), adapted from Len Deighton’s novel, is set in 1941 in a Britain under Nazi occupation; Winston Churchill has been executed and the resistance is struggling to hold on to its last strongholds in the countryside. Sam Riley plays Douglas Archer, a detective at Scotland Yard, now under the control of the SS, and a character who appears in almost every scene. Riley has, for an actor, a somewhat unexpressive face, beautiful but unreadable. Here, however, his downturned mouth and impassive cheekbones are perfect: Archer, after all, operates (by which I mean, barely operates) in a world in which no one wants to give their true feelings away, whether to their landlady, their lover, or their boss, newly arrived from Himmler’s office and as Protestant as all hell (he hasn’t used the word “degenerate” yet, but he will, he will).

Archer is, of course, an ambiguous figure, neither (at present) a member of the resistance nor (we gather) a fully committed collaborator. He is – or so he tells himself – merely doing his job, biding his time until those braver or more foolhardy do something to restore the old order. Widowed, he has a small boy to bring up. Yet how long he can inhabit this dubious middle ground remains to be seen. Oskar Huth (Lars Eidinger), the new boss, is keen to finish off the resistance; the resistance, in turn, is determined to persuade Archer to join its cause.

It’s hard to find fault with the series; for the next month, I am going to look forward to Sunday nights mightily. I would, I suppose, have hoped for a slightly more charismatic actress than Kate Bosworth to play Barbara Barga, the American journalist who may or may not be involved with the British resistance. But everything else seems pretty perfect to me. London looks suitably dirty and its inhabitants’ meals suitably exiguous. Happiness is an extra egg for tea, smoking is practically a profession, and
the likes of Archer wear thick, white vests.

Swastikas adorn everything from the Palace of Westminster to Trafalgar Square, Buckingham Palace is half ruined, a memorial to what the Germans regard as Churchill’s folly, and the CGI is good enough for the sight of all these things to induce your heart to ache briefly. Nazi brutality is depicted here as almost quotidian – and doubtless it once was to some. Huth’s determination to have four new telephone lines installed in his office within the hour is at one end of this horrible ordinariness. At the other is the box in which Archer’s mutinous secretary Sylvia (Maeve Dermody) furiously stubs out her fag, full to the brim with yellow stars.

When I first heard about The Kettering Incident (Tuesdays, 12.20am; repeated Wednesdays, 10pm) I thought someone must have found out about that thing that happened one time I was driving north on the M1 with a more-than-usually terrible hangover. Turns out it’s a new Australian drama, which comes to us on Sky Atlantic. Anna (Elizabeth Debicki), a doctor working in London, pitches up back in Tasmania many years after her teenage friend Gillian disappeared into its Kettering forest, having seen a load of mysterious bright lights. Was Gillian abducted by aliens or was she, as some local people believe, murdered by Anna? To be honest, she could be working as a roadie for Kylie, for all I care. This ponderous, derivative show is what happens when a writer sacrifices character on the altar of plot. The more the plot thickens, the more jaw-achingly tedious it becomes.

Rachel Cooke trained as a reporter on The Sunday Times. She is now a writer at The Observer. In the 2006 British Press Awards, she was named Interviewer of the Year.

This article first appeared in the 24 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The world after Brexit