It was the author’s name that prompted me to read an Ike biography at last. Paul Johnson has been a companion—in the literary sense; he doesn’t know me from Adam—all my adult life. I’m a fan from way back: from the mid-1960s, when P.J. and I were both lefties.
He was a much more significant lefty than I was: editor of the weekly New Statesman, the main vehicle for intellectual leftism in Britain. I was a flat-broke math undergraduate with romantic issues, sitting in the student lounge at University College, London reading P.J.’s “Londoner’s Diary” in the Statesman.
I do get around to the book, though.
Executive summary: I like Ike.