1980s Tory boys now, The

Spectator, The, Jun 26, 1999 by Cowling, Maurice

In these circumstances, readers of Conservative Debates should have conflicting feelings. They should be grateful that thinkers of high intelligence are devoting themselves to the reconstruction of Conservative thought, and they should excuse a certain arcane high-mindedness (from Dr Marenbon). But they should also reflect that the most important feelings for Conservatives to be expressing at the moment are not those expressed in this pamphlet, but are the cynical feelings of disbelief which have been held at bay since May 1997, which are capable of welding middle-class and working-class sentiment together, and which need to be moved out from being Lord Tebbit's speciality into being what, rather vaguely, they are already: the rhetoric with which Mr Redwood, Miss Widdecombe and Mr Hague will expose the higher humbug which emanates from Downing Street.

The author is a former fellow of Peterhouse, Cambridge.

JOHN Glashan, who died on 15 June aged 71, was one of our most original cartoonists, as well as a remarkable watercolour artist. In his drawings, doomed little men dominated by Gothic architecture were always drinking meths and being conned by millionaire hucksters or women who promised eternal love while looking over their shoulders for something better. The beautiful buildings, apparently inspired by the architecture of Edinburgh, were more often than not mental asylums for alcoholics suffering from overindulging in methylated spirits, or huge factories employing thousands of doomed people. Though the tiny figures he drew were overwhelmed by these things, they were never broken by them, and, rather like Charlie Chaplin, kept on going. No one else seems to be able to duplicate John Glashan's strange Victorian world, and his death leaves a huge gap. Michael Heath Michael Heath