Germany and le vice Anglais
The English upper classes have always had an uncomfortable relationship with carnal matters. Sex, while being a taboo subject for them most of the time, occupies much of their imagination and colours their language and art like none other. The fondness by some for flagellation by a whip wielding dominatrix accompanied by anguished squeals of pain and delight in equal measure provokes much mystification around the world. The French – as at ease with bedroom matters as it is possible to be – refer to the practice as le vice Anglais (the English vice). William Hogarth, my favourite English painter, moralised about it in the eighteenth century in his series of paintings The Harlot’s Progress and The Rake’s Progress (If you want to know more about Molly Hackabout and Tom Rakewell, the subjects of the series, drop me a line).
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Rake%27s_Progress
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Harlot%27s_Progress
“But what has sadomasochism got to do with the German Grand Prix?” I hear you ask. You have my sympathy. Here you were scrolling your eyes down another hastily cobbled column in search of news about the world championship battle between Kimi Raikkonen, Lewis Hamilton and Robert Kubica and all you can find is useless information about another of Gitau’s ridiculous obsessions. Bear with me, if you will.
Sex and Formula One used to be closely intertwined in the rakish 60s and 70s when drivers drove fast, lived even faster and died young. Death on the racetrack was so commonplace that drivers were forced to adopt a “devil may care” attitude to their existences. If there was a greater than fifty per cent chance of getting killed while negotiating a tough corner on a Sunday afternoon, why worry about smoking fifty fags a day and downing a bottle of Scotch each evening? Perhaps the most famous proponent of this admirable approach to life was English rake, James Hunt, who charmed his way into the annals of Formula One history through his lavish lifestyle and taste for stylish totty. I might have once mentioned that Hunt famously spent the night shagging an entire British Airways female cabin crew before turning up for the Japanese Grand Prix and lighting a sneaky fag just before climbing into his car for the start of the race. With the possible exceptions of Eddie Irvine and Kimi Raikkonen, modern Formula One drivers tend to adopt a rather more measured lifestyle these days.
The same cannot be said of the president of the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (better known to most of us as the FIA), the governing body of international motor sport, Mr Max Rufus Mosley. After more than four decades of ardent practice of le vice Anglais – judiciously kept from those, like his wife, who weren’t equally keen – Mosley found himself in a spot of bother a few months ago. A notorious British tabloid published strategically taken photographs of Mosley in a London flat while enthusiastically engaging in his favoured pastime with five ladies of similar persuasion. For good measure the tabloid placed a video of the entire episode on its website for the better education of the world at large. Mosley felt aggrieved. Not, you understand, because he disapproves of anyone engaging in his form of leisure – perish the thought! – but because he could not see why it was anybody’s business other than his and that of his lady friends. As he said, "I fundamentally disagree with the suggestion that any of this is depraved, fundamentally disagree with the fact that it is immoral. I think it is a perfectly harmless activity provided it is between consenting adults who want to do it, are of sound mind, and it is in private." For this reason he brought court proceedings against the tabloid, The News of the World (and I have to agree that it is a particularly vile example of gutter journalism) for invasion of his privacy. In simple language, what Mosley was contending before the English High Court was that a newspaper had no business poking its lenses into his bedroom - through a cleverly concealed camera planted by one of the consenting ladies – since there was nothing illegal or wrong about what he was doing.
The News of the World was going to be on very shaky ground if they were simply publishing a story declaring something like: “F1 boss likes to be whipped by hookers! The filthy bastard!” They instead chose to run a defence alleging that the whipping orgy was all about enacting a Nazi concentration camp scene. Mosley, so they argued, was a closet Nazi who received gratification from reliving the proceedings at grim places like Auschwitz during World War II. The undertone was that, since Mosley’s parents were convicted fascists and Nazi sympathisers, he too was an unrepentant Nazi. It was, therefore, their public duty to disclose Mosley’s true nature because he was a man who occupied a powerful position in public life as head of the FIA. This has got to be unadulterated bollocks. The judgment of Mr Justice Eady will be delivered next week. If I get this one wrong, I will emigrate to Timbuktu: there is absolutely no way the News of the World can win this one. This looks like QED to me. As Mosley said: "I can think of few things more unerotic than Nazi role play. It also has associations for me in other ways which would make it even less interesting. All of my life I have had hanging over me my antecedents, my parents, and the last thing I want to do in some sexual context is to be reminded of it."
Which brings me smoothly on to the subject of the German Grand Prix. The Mosley case is all about Nazism which, sadly, is Germany’s very unfortunate historical burden. Despite more than sixty years of positive contribution towards the betterment of the world, Germany is repeatedly reminded of its shameful past. Motor racing would not be what it is without the contribution German engineering has made. The Formula One world championship leader may be English but he drives a car powered by an engine supplied by supremely qualified experts in Stuttgart. I fully expect that he will give of his best this weekend at Hockenheim.
Hockenheim is a rather good circuit. It is not easy for me to tell whether it favours Ferrari or McLaren because I have no 2007 reference point. There was no race in Hockenheim last year and none of the current championship contenders has ever won there. If past form is any help, the only chaps from this year’s grid who have won at Hockenheim are Fernando Alonso and Rubens Barrichello. My South African friend and reliable F1 statistician, Andre Visser, assures me that, all things considered, Raikkonen should have this championship secured. He has sound knowledge about these matters and good past experience at picking winners. But I have to beg to differ. Things are just too unpredictable this year. We could have a little rain in Germany tomorrow. Then what?
For a very enjoyable Sunday afternoon allow me to suggest the purchase of a sturdy whip, procurement of the services of a German dominatrix - a snip at £500 an hour – and, for added enjoyment, a quick dip into a German/English dictionary for handy phrases like “Es tut mir leid. Es wird nicht wieder vorkommen!” (“I am terribly sorry. It won’t happen again!”). If all this seems a little too much like hard work, perhaps you might want to make yourself a cup of tea and switch on the telly on Saturday and Sunday. After all, there is a race on!
Enjoy Hockenheim!
Gitau
17 July 2008
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Rake%27s_Progress
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Harlot%27s_Progress
“But what has sadomasochism got to do with the German Grand Prix?” I hear you ask. You have my sympathy. Here you were scrolling your eyes down another hastily cobbled column in search of news about the world championship battle between Kimi Raikkonen, Lewis Hamilton and Robert Kubica and all you can find is useless information about another of Gitau’s ridiculous obsessions. Bear with me, if you will.
Sex and Formula One used to be closely intertwined in the rakish 60s and 70s when drivers drove fast, lived even faster and died young. Death on the racetrack was so commonplace that drivers were forced to adopt a “devil may care” attitude to their existences. If there was a greater than fifty per cent chance of getting killed while negotiating a tough corner on a Sunday afternoon, why worry about smoking fifty fags a day and downing a bottle of Scotch each evening? Perhaps the most famous proponent of this admirable approach to life was English rake, James Hunt, who charmed his way into the annals of Formula One history through his lavish lifestyle and taste for stylish totty. I might have once mentioned that Hunt famously spent the night shagging an entire British Airways female cabin crew before turning up for the Japanese Grand Prix and lighting a sneaky fag just before climbing into his car for the start of the race. With the possible exceptions of Eddie Irvine and Kimi Raikkonen, modern Formula One drivers tend to adopt a rather more measured lifestyle these days.
The same cannot be said of the president of the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (better known to most of us as the FIA), the governing body of international motor sport, Mr Max Rufus Mosley. After more than four decades of ardent practice of le vice Anglais – judiciously kept from those, like his wife, who weren’t equally keen – Mosley found himself in a spot of bother a few months ago. A notorious British tabloid published strategically taken photographs of Mosley in a London flat while enthusiastically engaging in his favoured pastime with five ladies of similar persuasion. For good measure the tabloid placed a video of the entire episode on its website for the better education of the world at large. Mosley felt aggrieved. Not, you understand, because he disapproves of anyone engaging in his form of leisure – perish the thought! – but because he could not see why it was anybody’s business other than his and that of his lady friends. As he said, "I fundamentally disagree with the suggestion that any of this is depraved, fundamentally disagree with the fact that it is immoral. I think it is a perfectly harmless activity provided it is between consenting adults who want to do it, are of sound mind, and it is in private." For this reason he brought court proceedings against the tabloid, The News of the World (and I have to agree that it is a particularly vile example of gutter journalism) for invasion of his privacy. In simple language, what Mosley was contending before the English High Court was that a newspaper had no business poking its lenses into his bedroom - through a cleverly concealed camera planted by one of the consenting ladies – since there was nothing illegal or wrong about what he was doing.
The News of the World was going to be on very shaky ground if they were simply publishing a story declaring something like: “F1 boss likes to be whipped by hookers! The filthy bastard!” They instead chose to run a defence alleging that the whipping orgy was all about enacting a Nazi concentration camp scene. Mosley, so they argued, was a closet Nazi who received gratification from reliving the proceedings at grim places like Auschwitz during World War II. The undertone was that, since Mosley’s parents were convicted fascists and Nazi sympathisers, he too was an unrepentant Nazi. It was, therefore, their public duty to disclose Mosley’s true nature because he was a man who occupied a powerful position in public life as head of the FIA. This has got to be unadulterated bollocks. The judgment of Mr Justice Eady will be delivered next week. If I get this one wrong, I will emigrate to Timbuktu: there is absolutely no way the News of the World can win this one. This looks like QED to me. As Mosley said: "I can think of few things more unerotic than Nazi role play. It also has associations for me in other ways which would make it even less interesting. All of my life I have had hanging over me my antecedents, my parents, and the last thing I want to do in some sexual context is to be reminded of it."
Which brings me smoothly on to the subject of the German Grand Prix. The Mosley case is all about Nazism which, sadly, is Germany’s very unfortunate historical burden. Despite more than sixty years of positive contribution towards the betterment of the world, Germany is repeatedly reminded of its shameful past. Motor racing would not be what it is without the contribution German engineering has made. The Formula One world championship leader may be English but he drives a car powered by an engine supplied by supremely qualified experts in Stuttgart. I fully expect that he will give of his best this weekend at Hockenheim.
Hockenheim is a rather good circuit. It is not easy for me to tell whether it favours Ferrari or McLaren because I have no 2007 reference point. There was no race in Hockenheim last year and none of the current championship contenders has ever won there. If past form is any help, the only chaps from this year’s grid who have won at Hockenheim are Fernando Alonso and Rubens Barrichello. My South African friend and reliable F1 statistician, Andre Visser, assures me that, all things considered, Raikkonen should have this championship secured. He has sound knowledge about these matters and good past experience at picking winners. But I have to beg to differ. Things are just too unpredictable this year. We could have a little rain in Germany tomorrow. Then what?
For a very enjoyable Sunday afternoon allow me to suggest the purchase of a sturdy whip, procurement of the services of a German dominatrix - a snip at £500 an hour – and, for added enjoyment, a quick dip into a German/English dictionary for handy phrases like “Es tut mir leid. Es wird nicht wieder vorkommen!” (“I am terribly sorry. It won’t happen again!”). If all this seems a little too much like hard work, perhaps you might want to make yourself a cup of tea and switch on the telly on Saturday and Sunday. After all, there is a race on!
Enjoy Hockenheim!
Gitau
17 July 2008
posted by Gitau at 4:31 pm
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