Speaking for Themselves - Audiobook Part Two

Synopsis: This is a fascinating collection of the personal correspondence between Winston Churchill and his wife Clementine between 1931-1964.

Review: As soon as my monthly credit became available at Audible I downloaded the second volume of the letters, a further twelve and a half hours to add to the sixteen I'd already listened to. I didn't enjoy this set of letters as much as I did the first, they were a lot more melancholy and sad mostly of course because of the outbreak of war but also because of Winston's (and Clemmie's) failing health. It also irked me somewhat that Clemmie appeared to be permanently on holiday (it probably just appeared that way because of course that's when they would write letters) but when I read about her skiing trip which seemed to last for months it set my teeth on edge a bit, especially as Mary, her youngest daughter, went with her but then had to come back when school term started leaving Clemmie to stay on for weeks. She seemed to go for 'cures' a lot .. which involved going on cruises and to health spa's and I was thinking 'alright for some' and being annoyed with her when she got peevish but that was probably just the green eyed monster coming out in me because I haven't even sniffed the sea for a couple of years. That's not to say that Clemmie didn't suffer from ill health because she did but I just felt the cures were somewhat indulgent. In this house it would be 'have an aspirin and an early night love' but then of course, I'm not .. or ever likely to be (unless some very weird sh*t happens) the prime ministers wife. Clemmie didn't appear to have a very close relationship with her children either (except the youngest Mary) .. at one point she tells Winston to relay something to Randolph (their son) because it would be 'better coming from you as he simply hates me'. I felt that some of this may have been because, in the main, they had been brought up by nannies .. which is quite usual in their circumstances of course but I would think it's hard to form close bonds when that's the case. But then it's amost impossible for me to think of my mother gadding about in Paris for months leaving me at home with Nanny Bloggs or whoever because, as the Who would say, 'I was born with a plastic spoon in my mouth' and so couldn't possibly understand it . Anyway this chilliness seemed to lessen as time passed and I think they were all on fairly good terms in later life.

For all that it was a fearful and melancholy time, I enjoyed the letters sent during the second world war because they were just fascinating and insightful. Winston was often abroad in secret locations and was usually accompanied by one or other of his daughters acting as aide-de-camp which must have been so exciting for them. He worked tirelessly, often to the detriment of his own health, but the bulldog spirit which he is famous for came over loud and clear in his letters.

The children (as adults) had a rather torrid time of it, both Randolph and Sarah had drink related problems and Diana, their eldest daughter, suffering I imagine from the same black dog depression as her father tragically took her own life aged 54. Winston had a lot of health problems, and both he and Clemmie were often worried about their childrens rather messy private lives. Winston did not want to retire from politics though, he had had several strokes, and found both writing and speech difficult at times (he had long had an assistant to write his letters for him but would sometimes write his own and sign them as 'by my own paw') but still Clemmie had a devil of a job making him see that the time for retiring was long overdue.

I grew really quite fond of the irascible old bear from reading his letters. He sometimes spoke about foreigners in a rather shocking way but I guess this was all part of the rhetoric of war, but mostly I found his letters loving and interesting. He had an absolute passion for painting and also animals and collected quite a little menagerie at Chartwell. He had a beloved little budgerigar .. Toby .. who would perch on this hand whilst writing and take nips out of his cigar but was heartbroken one day when someone left a window open and it flew out never to be seen again. He loved his animals and chatted away to them like people. The letters stopped with Winston's death in 1964, he was such a powerful presence that I can't imagine what it must have been like for Clemmie to be without him. Their letters to each other were always so full of affection and love which didn't diminish one jot with time.

I must just say a word about the readers .. Eleanor Bron and Michael Jayston .. they were both excellent and entirely convinced me that I was listening to the Churchill's themselves.