This is not an attempt to evaluate Macmillan’s career—that will, of course, be the function of the official biography— but simply a personal recollection of him in his last years. As it is largely based on “table talk, ” little or none of this article will in fact appear in the biography. —AH
WHEN FIRST INVITED to write the official life of Harold Macmillan, I was, quite simply, dumbfounded. I had never done a biography, and felt I had no particular qualifications for this one. But, where most biographers have to work posthumously, the opportunity to write the life of a great contemporary—while, at the same time, having access to a remarkable living memory—was unique, and not lightly to be refused. Only one major condition was imposed, by the subject: The book was not to appear in his lifetime, a condition designed to rid us both of all inhibitions.




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