Tony Blair Memoirs: sex on legs AND in print

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    4th September 2010

    Click to Buy Tony Blair’s ‘A Journey’

    I’ve had my copy of ‘A Journeyfor a couple of days, but haven’t had much time to devour it all yet, as it were. Still, many speed-readers or index keyword searchers have been hard at it for the last few days. Reading, that is.

    Sex in politics? Casually dressed, in an open-necked shirt, tight jeans and a hint of a crucifix, the 'virile yet vulnerable' Tony Blair has written a steamy memoir (Photo: GEOFF PUGH)

    FORGET THE POLITICS – GIVE ‘EM THE SEX

    Has Tony Blair, to the delight of his admirers and the BALL-SQUEEZING angst of his opponents, proved yet again that  he knows how to touch the parts other politicians just cannot?

    March 2007, prior to his naming of his leaving date in June, Tony Blair shows no fear of indignity on the tennis court. Culture Secretary Tessa Jowell and youngsters from the Westway Sports Academy wonder if he'll make it over.

    Sex and power in the suggestive raw?  Linda Kelsey’s dinner-burning report at the Telegraph – “Tony Blair: a pretty sexy kind of guy” – indicates that this may well be so. Perhaps even more so than in his assumed heyday.

    Excerpt, Kelsey:

    “There’s something steaming in the kitchen, and it’s not just the courgettes and carrots I’m boiling for supper. I’m sitting at the table, unable to take my nose out of Tony Blair’s memoirs. Between the lines, and sometimes in the lines themselves, things are positively throbbing. I check the fly leaf to be quite sure I’m reading a book published by serious Random House rather than Black Lace, the purveyor of erotic fiction for women. Then I’m lost in a section where the narrative is as breathless as Mills & Boon.

    Leafing through A Journey, I’m struck by the fact that this is not the kind of political memoir we’re used to. There’s a palpable sense of pheromones leaping out from the pages; testosterone-fuelled passion in even the most political of descriptions. Even when Blair’s not talking about sex, he’s talking about… well, sex.”

    THROBBING AWAY AT THE PRIMEVAL

    I am surely not the only one to see something pleasing and retaliatory in the airing of Tony Blair’s unexpected sexy bits.

    In this age of dullard, untalented celebrity, he again shows how to craft a memoir. There is far more in this book than just the summoning up of base instincts, rest assured.  But that, and the reason for that is not just incidental or for the sake of a momentary distraction.

    Nowhere in the index appears the word “sex”, only “sex offenders list”. And clearly his name won’t be found there.

    But sexual references are crafted through the book in various ways, even as regards male colleagues, sometimes competitively and sometimes in a man-love sort of way! They are there for a reason or several. Get working all ye amateur psychologists. But don’t look for any similar references in Gordon Brown’s upcoming title. You won’t find them.

    Even as the cynic in me wonders this: when all else fails, reason flies out the window and the war criminal is still considered by some a war criminal whose indiscrete head would have been off with in an earlier era, this trying of a little macho-laden tenderness, is mightily impressive.

    He may be the wrong end of 50, and steadfastly refuses to have the odd wonky tooth straightened, but somehow that matters not.  Forceful yet vulnerable, tough yet tender, the people’s prime minister can still turn ’em on, and what is more important BE turned on.  So why not admit it?

    Turning thoughts to the primeval urge has worked for millennia. Plant a seed and let it grow…

    SEX IN PRINT

    Blair’s sexy bits have thrown some commenters into despairing jealous rages. Even those half his age. And invariably those lacking a fraction of his political/populist nous.  The balls he talks about (no euphemisms for this man)  is not Ed. Definitely not Ed.

    A few days ago the antis were already spitting bile about it. The fast-reading Spectator started it with Blair: the Sex Scenes. Then Fraser Nelson tweeted that. In despair, and perhaps understanding this was  a game in which he could not compete, Nelson fell back on the tired old Blair for Sale angle – Nelson – “A look at the book’s chapters shows you that this is a case not of a man selling a book, but a book selling a man.”

    I expect a little stats checking might find that Ed Howker/Peter Hoskin’s ‘Blair: the sex scenes’ has had one or two more hits than Nelson’s ‘Blair For Sale’ offering.

    _______________

    In case you’ve been out of the country and haven’t read any of Blair’s sexy bits yet – here’s a taster via The Spectator:

    CHERIE: “I DEVOURED HER LOVE”

    “…that night she cradled me in her arms and soothed me; told me what I needed to be told; strengthened me; made me feel that I was about to do was right … On that night of the 12th May, 1994, I needed that love Cherie gave me, selfishly. I devoured it to give me strength. I was an animal following my instinct, knowing I would need every ounce of emotional power to cope with what lay ahead. I was exhilarated, afraid and determined in roughly equal quantities.”

    Not just a Prime Minister, not just a global statesman, in A Journey Tony Blair also demonstrates he knows how to treat a girl:

    ANJI HUNTER: “SEXY – WITH DEVASTATING EFFECT”

    “Anji was my best friend. We had known each other since the age of 16 when I had tried climbing inside her sleeping bag at a party in the North-West of Scotland (without success!).

    She had looked after me at university, turned up in my life again when I was an MP and had been with me ever since. She was sexy and exuberant and used both attributes to devastating effect.”

    FIRST LOVE: PUMPING

    “We met [Tony and Gordon meet in a variety of clandestine destinations while carving up the Labour leadership in the mid-1990s] in the flat owned by the parents of my old girlfriend and first love, Amanda Mackenzie Stuart … And I loved the romance of meeting at Amanda’s. You know the first person you ever fall in love with; you know the incredible outpouring of desire, the overwhelming sense of something unique, inexpressible, inexplicable and even at points incomprehensible, but so thrilling, uplifting, your heart pumping and soaring? I was eighteen, in my last year of Fettes. She was the only girl at the school – the first, the experiment, and so chosen because she was the daughter of the chairman of the governors… I wasn’t afraid there, and somehow in some slightly odd way, in Amanda’s home, surrounded by evidence of her presence, I felt a confidence about the task in hand…”

    _______________

    Click to Buy Tony Blair’s ‘A Journey’

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    2 Responses to “Tony Blair Memoirs: sex on legs AND in print”

    1. celia walters Says:

      it is a very interesting book but not at all sexy i have found but blair has had problems in Dublin with 4 arrested during violence at aq Blair book signing but at least he got what he wanted to be able to sign books and as for another anti blair campaign highlighted in telegraph i find it so funny .A group on Facebook are putting Blair’s book in unusual places as a protest against Iraq. Apparently one put it in with the nappies another in fantasy section but most put it in true crime because they believe he is a war criminal. It makes no sense to me and I can’t see this as a protest of any sort or can I see any point in it or what it is trying to achieve

      • keeptonyblairforpm Says:

        I think there is a subtle message in the sexual references, Celia. A good one, of course. A kind of balanced normal guy one. And with the mention of others’ extra-marital relationships, some might suggest this is perhaps a reminder of his marital wholesomeness. The sexiest bit was about his own wife! Not exactly what most married people would be willing to share, considering they’d already been married for 14 years by then. But I think it may be meant to convey the mixture of emotions he was feeling on that day, just after John Smith died, and he’d decided HE was going to go for the leadership. And how he depended on his wife for support and love at that time, and probably still today.

        Yes, the sillies are at it again, at Dublin in the rain and in the bookshops. LOSERS all. They should be in nappies. The nice thing is that the ‘arresting’ woman was bundled away by the security. Personally I think she should have been arrested.

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