Kirjahaku

The first, intimate portrait of the Orange Order. If there is any more controversial body of men (and, with the exception of Ruth Dudley Edwards, who has been admitted to an honorary position in her very own lodge, they are all men) in the British Isles, it is hard to think who they might be. To most outsiders, grown men parading in bowler hats, white gloves, coloured sashes or collarettes, rolled umbrellas and banners showing scenes from the Old Testament or from a war that ended three centuries ago, are anachronistic, silly and provocative; to their enemies they are triumphalist bigots; to most of their members, the lodges’ parades are a commemoration of the courage of their forefathers, a proud declaration of their belief in civil and religious freedom, a demonstration of their Britishness, a chance to catch up with old friends and a jolly day out. Ruth Dudley Edwards is an unlikely Joan of Arc for the Orangemen, but that she is; a trusted and liked sympathizer, a woman, a Catholic from southern Ireland; one who sees them as possibly rather bumptious and certainly their own worst enemy, endlessly outpaced by the nimble Republicans in terms of PR (which the Orangemen scorn to meddle with). She has written a fond but not uncritical, indeed rather exasperated, portrait of this tribe, with lashings of insider detail and revelation which no one else could hope to obtain.

Lady Troutbeck, Mistress of St Martha's College, throws herself into the serious work of the House. When ten lords have simultaneous heart attacks, Troutbeck finds herself helping the police with their enquiries.

Latest in Ruth Dudley Edwards’s hilarious crime series lampooning the British Establishment: ‘I fear it will make you laugh out loud on public transport’ Evening Standard When the chairperson of the prestigious Knapper-Warburton Literary Prize dies in suspicious circumstances, Robert Amiss (the token sane member of the judging panel) wastes no time in summoning Baroness 'Jack' Troutbeck to step into the breach. Speculation that a killer may be targeting the judges worries the baroness not in the slightest – it's the prospect of immersing herself in modern literature that fills her with dread. But noblesse must oblige, even when it means joining the ranks of the superciliati sitting in judgement of the literati. With the baroness at the helm, the judges resume the task of whittling away at the short-list. But the killer, too, has resumed and is whittling away at the judges one by one …

Battered to death with a piece of abstract sculpture titled 'Reconciliation, ' Whitehall departmental head Sir Nicholas Clark is claimed by his colleagues to have been a fine and respected public servant cut off in his prime. Bewildered by the labyrinthine bureaucracy of Whitehall, Scotland Yard's Super - intendent Jim Milton recognizes a potential ally in Clark's young Private Secretary, Robert Amiss. Milton soon learns from Amiss how Whitehall works: that it can be Machiavellian and potentially homicidal, that Sir Nicholas was obnoxious and widely loathed, that he had spent the weeks before his murder upsetting and antagonizing family and associates, and that his last morning on earth had been spent gleefully observing the success of his plan to embarrass his minister and his department publicly. And they still need to discover who wielded the blunt instrument. This is the first of Ruth Dudley Edwards' witty, iconoclastic but warm - hearted satires about the British Establishment

For many years Westonbury Cathedral has been dominated by a clique of High Church gays, so when Norman Cooper, an austere, intolerant, happy - clappy evangelist, is appointed dean, there is shock, outrage and fear. David Elworthy, the gentle and politically innocent new bishop, is distraught at the prospect of warfare between the factions; contentious issues include the outrageous Lady chapel and the gay memorial under construction in the deanery garden. Desperate for help, Elworthy cries on the shoulder of his old friend, the redoubtable Baroness Troutbeck, who forces her unofficial troubleshooter, Robert Amiss, to move into the bishop's palace. Amiss, Troutbeck, and the cat Plutarch address themselves in their various ways to the bishop's problems, which very soon swell to include a clerical corpse in the cathedral. Is it suicide? Or is it murder? And who is likely to be next?

Victor Gollancz was a teacher, publisher, author and campaigner who spent his life passionately trying to make people see the truth as he saw it. If it's as a publisher that he is remembered above all, nonetheless in many ways he epitomised the social conscience of the mid-twentieth century: he founded the Left Book Club, Save Europe Now and the Campaign Against Capital Punishment. For this biography, first published in 1987, Ruth Dudley Edwards had access to all the Gollancz family and firm papers, and produced an honest, searching work which not only reveals an extraordinary man but throws light on many of the political and social events of his times.'Frequently gripping and always readable.' John Gross, Observer'Consistently enthralling and a brilliant achievement.' Hilary Rubinstein, Spectator'One of the fullest and richest portraits of a contemporary individual we have had.' Anthony Curtis, Financial Times'I would trust anyone's life to Ruth Dudley Edwards.' Terence De Vere White, Irish Times

On Easter Sunday, 23 April 1916, the seven members of the Irish Republican Brotherhood’s military council met to proclaim an Irish Republic with themselves as the provisional government. After a week of fighting with the British army on the streets of Dublin, the Seven were arrested, court-martialled and executed. Cutting through the layers of veneration that have seen them regarded unquestioningly as heroes and martyrs by many, Ruth Dudley Edwards provides shrewd yet sensitive portraits of Ireland’s founding fathers. She explores how an incongruous group, which included a communist, visionary Catholic poets and a tobacconist, joined together to initiate an armed rebellion that changed the course of Irish history. Brilliant, thought-provoking and captivatingly told, The Seven challenges us to see past the myths and consider the true character and legacy of the Easter Rising.

On Easter Sunday, 23 April 1916, the seven members of the Irish Republican Brotherhood’s military council met to proclaim an Irish Republic with themselves as the provisional government. After a week of fighting with the British army on the streets of Dublin, the Seven were arrested, court-martialled and executed. Cutting through the layers of veneration that have seen them regarded unquestioningly as heroes and martyrs by many, Ruth Dudley Edwards provides shrewd yet sensitive portraits of Ireland’s founding fathers. She explores how an incongruous group, which included a communist, visionary Catholic poets and a tobacconist, joined together to initiate an armed rebellion that changed the course of Irish history. Brilliant, thought-provoking and captivatingly told, The Seven challenges us to see past the myths and consider the true character and legacy of the Easter Rising.

The House of Lords will never be the same again. Disinclined to watch her language or moderate her manners, Jack Troutbeck, assisted by her old friend Robert Amiss, plots vigorously with others to scupper an anti-hunting bill of which she violently disapproves. But she hadn't reckoned with the campaign of intimidation mounted by the animal activists and the attempt on the life of one of her allies, shortly followed by scenes of horrifying carnage amongst the peers...

Sheâ??s filleted the Foreign Office, clobbered the Cambridge colleges, jeered at the gentlemenâ??s clubs, burlesqued the bishops â?? now Ruth Dudley Edwards pillories the publishing world.

Ruth Dudley Edwards’s wickedly funny series taking an irreverent look at the British Establishment continues with this burlesque in a bishopric. For many years Westonbury Cathedral has been dominated by a clique of High Church gays, so when Norm Cooper, an austere, intolerant, happy-clappy evangelist, is appointed dean, the announcement is met with shock, outrage and fear. David Elworthy, the gentle and politically innocent new bishop, is distraught at the prospect of warfare between the factions; contentious issues include the camp lady chapel and the gay memorial under construction in the deanery garden. Desperate for help, Elworthy cries on the shoulder of his old friend the redoubtable Baroness Troutbeck, who forces her unofficial troubleshooter, Robert Amiss, to move into the bishop’s palace. Amiss, Troutbeck and the cat Plutarch address themselves in their various ways to the bishop’s problems, which very soon include a clerical corpse in the cathedral. Is it suicide? Or is it murder? And who is likely to be next?

‘Devilishly funny…There are plenty of sharp political points in this beautifully written satire, guaranteed to make you laugh’ – Frances Fyfield, Mail on Sunday Foolishly, the British and Irish governments have chosen the tactless and impatient Baroness Troutbeck to chair a conference on Anglo-Irish cultural sensitivities. She instantly press-gangs Robert Amiss, her young friend and reluctant accomplice, into becoming conference organizer. Not only are a truculent Orangeman, intransigent republicans, imitative loyalists, appeasing English and hypocritical Irish among the nightmarish participants whose arrival Amiss views with dread, but driving rain and security problems make things even worse. It is a conference to remember in more ways than one, for when a delegate plummets off the battlements, no one, not even the authorities, can decide whether it was by accident or design, and the warring factions accuse each other of murder.