Julie Burchill is an independent journalist in every sense. Her iconoclastic op-ed pieces have over the years succeeded in offending people from across the political spectrum. A lifelong and unrepentant Communist, her political positions are nevertheless somewhat eclectic, and as time as gone by it has become more and more difficult to spot anything conventionally left-wing about her output.
The subject matter in this provocative collection of essays is quite wide-ranging. Many of the items are whimsical, dealing with absurdities rather than heavy issues, but are still well-written and amusing. Some of the pieces raise serious issues, however, and even challenged my preconceptions in certain areas.
One theme explored is the resurgence of class prejudice in supposedly egalitarian 21st Century Britain. In the past I'd always considered Burchill's obsession with "class" to be a rather silly anachronism, but looking at the examples she gives of the growing tendency to denigrate and ridicule members of the white working class has made me wonder whether I'm the one that's in denial. A bit light on analysis, unfortunately, but she suggests that declining levels of career satisfaction in "middle-class" jobs may be to blame.
She takes a pop at environmentalism - not concern for the environment per se, rather the elevation of the aforementioned concerns into a full-blown ideology, and the bizarre contradictions this leads to. For example, Greens promote locally-produced rather than imported food as it means a lesser carbon footprint, but their liberal principles won't allow them to oppose mass immigration, which is none other than the "importation" of labour.
In another chapter, Burchill excoriates the phenomenon of "fat pride", which started as a plea for acceptance on behalf of plump and obese women, but ended up becoming just another kind of body fascism - yet another example of a movement that is supposed to be empowering or liberating, but isn't really.
The book is a collaborative project between two authors who show a marked divergence both in style and, arguably, ability. Some of Newkey-Burden's social observations are mildly intriguing, and make you realise how tricky it is to pick your way through the minefield of political correctness in the modern world. He remarks on the selective deafness of white rap fans to the misogynistic and reactionary messages that permeate hip-hop. Another paradox he notes is that his supposedly pro-gay friends can be quite prudish and judgemental about his sexual lifestyle, whereas people he knows who are superficially homophobic actually tend to be more accepting. I don't have many gay friends, but in future I'll certainly be observing my own reactions carefully.
But I found his style rather pedestrian, with none of Julie Burchill's frothiness and inventive use of language, and was frequently irritated by his lazy generalisations and poorly-evidenced arguments. In the chapter entitled "Foreign Affairs", he lambasts what he sees as liberal hypocrisy on various global issues - the Bush presidency, the Iraq War, Cuba, etc. He makes some valid points but this sort of thing has been done before and done better (by Nick Cohen for example).
His attempts at satire are, in my opinion, too bitchy and too obviously agenda-laden to be funny, although I accept this is partly a matter of taste. E.g. we have a day in the life of two ficticious "typical modern hypocrites", Ben and Siobhan, who somewhat resemble the "cultural creative types" lampooned in Stuff White People Like: A Definitive Guide to the Unique Taste of Millions - except SWPL doesn't portray them as internet porn addicts and closet anti-Semites. In his "hypocritical travellers' guide", he berates the people of Ireland for their supposedly antidiluvian attitudes to homosexuality, based apparently on his own difficulties in getting a room with a double bed when he's been on vacation there. In fact, Ireland is a country undergoing rapid secularisation and is steadily adopting greater sexual permissiveness, so he could at least have given them some credit for having made progress. In the preface to Not In My Name, he is at pains to point out that changing your stance on something isn't hypocritical, but principled. So in his world, it seems, people can change, but countries can't.
Altogether, this is a somewhat hit-and-miss affair that almost feels like two completely different books sliced into thin sections and interleaved with each other. For this reason, it's difficult to rate it fairly. But since fairness and objectivity are evidently not very high on the authors' list of priorities, I won't lose much sleep over this!