David Lange, aged 30, barrister and solicitor, when he won the Auckland regional final of the Jaycees Outstanding Young Man Award in 1973.
For those of us who watched David Lange sail into politics on a mission from God and finally walk away when the pas de deux with erstwhile soulmate Roger Douglas turned into a dance of political death, his memoirs were worth the wait.
For others it may be a sometimes
disturbing read, but it puts forward a view of the most revolutionary political and economic upheavals of the 20th century through the eyes of the most charismatic, complex and infuriatingly mercurial Prime Minister in our history.
My Life is remarkable for its candour, venom and emotional resonance.
Sometimes lyrical, sometimes gut-wrenchingly brutal, Lange's assessment of his upbringing, his achievements and his ultimate disillusionment with politics are rolled out. The early years in Otahuhu, the abiding love and admiration for his liberal physician father, the impact of unjust charges brought against his "Pop", the emotionally arms-length mother and the juxtaposition of a middle-class, overweight boy making his way in a working class district tell their tale.
Even early in the piece, fate appeared to be sending a message. The euphoria of being made head boy at intermediate school evaporated abruptly on the last day of school while on the way home, ignominiously riding his mother's bike into a cloudburst. "I headed for the trees in the grounds of St Mary's where I fell off the bike. Soaking wet I sat on a bough and reflected on the transience of status."
His later decision to emulate his early legal mentor, Jack Carthy, as the "protector of lost causes and the defender of strange faiths" and his sortie into the outside world all seemed to be laying groundwork for a glittering career.
Eventually it all seemed to come to pass. Marriage to his first girlfriend, hardship and loss, followed by luck and great timing, launched him into the political maelstrom. He became leader of the Opposition and trounced the once indomitable, but by then impotent, Robert Muldoon.
The youngest Cabinet in our history captured the nation's imagination and featured on the front page of the New York Times. But the cracks were developing. Lange was becoming isolated and his concerns about the inroads made by vested interests were creating internal friction with which he could not deal.
From the Lange perspective it is all there. In some cases when he exercises his rancour on his colleagues the bludgeon replaces the stiletto. But the life, the times, the tension, launch themselves off every page.
There is a love story here. There is recrimination, joy and rejoicing at both life and luck.
There is also an echo of King Lear.
The stories and the anecdotes that are not included are legion, but I am happy to settle with what David Lange has put on the table.
- Herald on Sunday
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