“To the victor belong the spoils.”
Senator William M. Macy
Mabel says she is not remotely patriotic or nationalistic, and therefore refused point blank to write this introduction. (She is only interested in the isle of Mabel (what would that be: a few palm trees and someone serving her dates or Turkish delight whilst she is being fanned by a boy of about eighteen in a leopard skin loin cloth, periodically flexing his juvenile muscles) I have to confess I always rather distressed when I think on this theme. I mean, teenage boys they do enjoy their games. Sylvia’s Chris I am told is heavily into his Call of Duty, as they all are. And our friend Felicia, who we call Cleo here because she lives in Egypt says the Pharaohs are rather too patriotic for their own good. Which provokes a discussion about our own proclivities for going off the rail in the name of kings, queens and country. Overstall tends to look at everything from a historical perspective, which means all we get is in depth analysis and not much else. Maclean, on the other hand, says one has to think strategically and without sentiment. Like a spy in the house of love. Francesca says the thing to do with two warring parties is cook them a meal. She suggests something rustic possibly with aubergines like a parmigiana, followed by fish, preferably dentex. The parmigiana will fill them up and stop them sending dagger eyes. By the time they’ve unpicked the bones from the dentex, they’ll just want to fall asleep. But I will leave the last word to Pushkin. “The Victor belongs to the spoils,” which he tells me in a thick Russian accent is a quote from someone called Squat Fitzgerald.