Poor Old Girl. The final act may not have been sanglante, but as the third volume of Charles Moore’s life of Margaret Thatcher makes clear, it was sad. It may seem unwise to expend great praise on a contemporary book before time has had a chance to lend perspective: not in this case. Time’s verdict can be anticipated with confidence. Boswell apart — sui generis — this might be the finest biography in the language.
Alas, the final volume is also a story of decline. It did not help that the Lady was sacked with as little ceremony as a cleaning woman guilty of plundering the gin bottle. But a more dignified exit would still have hurt. Until her health declined, she was producing more adrenaline than she could consume: constantly feeling a gnawing frustration that she was no longer at the centre of events. Charles Powell said ‘she never had a happy day after being ousted from office’.
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