Harold Nicolson - Diaries And Letters 1945-62

Harold Nicolson – Diaries and Letters 1945–62 is an extraordinary document of post-war British establishment life, which is another way of saying it contains a great many intelligent people having elegant conversations while quietly collapsing under the emotional strain of being British.

Edited by Nigel Nicolson, this volume follows diplomat, politician, writer and professional observer Harold Nicolson through the long twilight of empire, austerity, politics, literature and ageing. It is full of Cabinet gossip, literary encounters, social anxieties and exquisitely phrased disappointment. Nobody in these pages ever merely “has a bad day”. They suffer “a certain spiritual exhaustion over luncheon.”

Nicolson himself is endlessly fascinating. Cultured, witty, deeply perceptive and permanently surrounded by the upper layers of British intellectual society, he records the post-war years with the sort of polished melancholy modern diarists can only dream of. He attends dinners with famous people, worries about civilisation, comments acidly on politics and somehow finds time to notice the weather in perfect prose.

What makes these diaries so compelling is the sheer contrast between the enormous historical backdrop and the intensely human details. The British Empire is fading. Europe is changing. Governments rise and fall. Yet amid all this, Harold is also fretting about social awkwardness, bad speeches and whether somebody looked bored at dinner.

There is something almost heroic about the level of civilised restraint on display. Modern memoirs tend to overshare within three pages. Nicolson, by contrast, can imply emotional devastation through a brief remark about someone leaving a room “earlier than expected.” It is a masterclass in the old British art of saying everything while appearing to say absolutely nothing.

The book is also unintentionally hilarious in places. The great and the good drift through its pages behaving with immense seriousness about matters history has long since forgotten. One gets the distinct impression that half the British establishment between 1945 and 1962 spent its time smoking, discussing Europe gravely and becoming quietly irritated with one another in beautifully furnished drawing rooms.

As a 1971 Fontana paperback, this edition carries exactly the right air of intellectual weariness. You can imagine it living for years beside a bottle of whisky, a stack of Encounter magazines and a chair no one was entirely allowed to sit in. Condition is Good, meaning it has aged with dignity rather than glamour. Expect softened pages, a slightly creased spine and perhaps the faint aroma of dust, old paper and academic ambition.

There is no ISBN listed because older paperbacks inhabited a freer, stranger literary world where books circulated through railway stations, second-hand shops and university shelves on reputation alone.

A wonderfully sharp, elegant and deeply British chronicle of a fading world. Perfect for readers who enjoy politics, literature, social observation and the peculiar spectacle of very intelligent people trying to maintain composure while the twentieth century rearranges itself around them.

Keep browsing: See more Biography books Other books by Nigel Nicolson