Paul Johnson; photo courtesy pauljohnsonarchives.org

There was an unusual and wonderful event in London last night: a book party, a concert, and a celebration. The man of the hour was Paul Johnson, the great British historian and journalist. Sharing the spotlight as man of the hour, I suppose, was Mozart. Johnson has written a biography of Mozart, and a gem it is.

The evening took place at the 20th Century Theatre in Notting Hill. Presiding over it was Daniel Johnson, one of the author’s sons, and the editor of Standpoint, the British monthly. I met other Johnsons on this occasion: Daniel’s wife Sarah, and one of their children, Agatha (Aggie); and Luke Johnson, another of Paul and Marigold’s sons.

Marigold? She is the irrepressible and irreplaceable Mrs. Johnson, lovely and warm.

The guests were a sort of Who’s Who of literary London. They included some of my favorite writers, and people—many of them known to readers of The New Criterion. Let me list just a few (always a dangerous act, because “to include some is to exclude others,” as Bill Buckley often said, usually in Latin):

David and Clarissa Pryce-Jones. (She is the daughter of Lord Caccia, the late diplomat—once the ambassador in Washington.) Anthony Daniels, a.k.a. Theodore Dalrymple, and his better, Frencher half, Agnès. Two of the Standpoint crew, Michael Mosbacher and Oliver Wiseman.

I was very pleased to meet Noel Malcolm, who is now Sir Noel, I learned (from someone else, I hasten to say). And the Billingtons, Kevin and Rachel. And Rachel’s sister Antonia Fraser. And Charlotte Johnson, mother of London’s mayor Boris (and others). And Francesca Hunt, the beautiful actress.

And Jung Chang—author of the 10-million-selling Wild Swans, and, with her husband, Jon Halliday, a truth-telling biography of Mao (rare and valuable thing).

In his remarks to the crowd, Daniel Johnson said that Paul Johnson was “a prophet without honor in his own country”—neglected in Britain while famous in the United States and elsewhere. He has not really been on the BBC since 1975 or something like that.

This strikes me as utterly weird. In my own remarks, I said, “I wonder whether people in this country realize how famous and influential Paul is in the United States. All my life, I’ve met people whose views were shaped by him.” I told a few stories. I will tell a few now.

I know a husband and wife who, before they were married, read Modern Times aloud together. They thought it was important.

I know a young man—a student at Yale—who, before beginning an internship at the Wall Street Journal, was required to read Modern Times. (Good for that paper.)

The other night, I was at dinner with some friends of mine on the Upper East Side. Not conservatives, let me say. We were talking about our schedules, and I mentioned London—and that led to Paul. My friend Stephen said, “The author of A History of the Jews?” “One and the same,” I said. He said, “That’s a great book.” Which it is.

Anyway . . .

The evening’s music was organized by Irina Knaster and her ASPECT Foundation for Music and Arts. There was one piece on the program, but not just any piece: one of the greatest works of music ever composed, Mozart’s Clarinet Quintet in A, K. 581. It is just about the favorite piece of my friend and fellow critic Fred Kirshnit, I believe. Johnson, in his biography, says that Mozart’s most perfect piece is probably another clarinet work: the concerto.

You would hate to choose between them—or other Mozart creations.

Our players were the Endellion String Quartet, a British ensemble, and Alexander Bedenko, a clarinetist from Ukraine. The audience’s response to their performance was gratifyingly robust.

I will not recapitulate my little speech on this occasion. If interested, you will find the substance in my review of the Mozart book for National Review, published in December. Suffice it to say, Paul Johnson has been a big deal in my life, and in the lives of countless others—his readers, the world over.

He gave us a kind of benediction before we left, making a few remarks. In fact, he ended with, “God bless you all.”

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