STEPHEN KOCH
27
a French town called Poitigny, run for fellow travellers by a complex
Soviet sympathizer close to the original Bloomsberries, Prince Dimitri
Mirsky. In fact, Prince Mirsky may well have been the inventor of the
culture conference as an instrument of elite propaganda. Prince Mirsky
died, mad, in the gulag.
Anthony Blunt's affair with Julian Bell ended when Julian proceeded
to a relationship with a woman, and then "a series of mistresses." But
while it was going on, he wrote to his mother, "I feel certain you won't
be upset or shocked. Still, don't let it go any further, or it might get
round to Virginia, and then one might as well put a notice in the
Times."
Once exposed, Blunt did not defect to the USSR, and it is clear that
unlike Philby he despised the mere thought of life in the Utopia he
served. But then, what did Blunt not despise? Though his suits fitted per–
fectly and though he hated the socialist motherland, he was a hard- core
Stalinist
apparatchik
quite without conscience toward either of his coun–
tries, his "ideals," or his friends . Least of
all
did he care for that abstrac–
tion, humanity. He despised "humanity." His snobbery was absolute. He
was a manipulator of genius, with a talent for subtle intimidation and for
measuring the vanity of his victims that makes the efforts of Guy Burgess
seem amateurish fumblings . His chosen role was to be the most sublimely
placed insider of all, the perfect Prufrock of the British establishment.
"Deferential, glad to be of use/ Politic, cautious, and meticulous," Blunt
was invariably to be found just a step behind and a shade to the left of
power, the associate and even intimate of principal figures throughout
British life, from the royal establishment, to the Rothschilds, to the high–
est levels of the intelligence services. Most intellectuals are involved in
what might be called powerless power. Blunt wanted more: He sought
covert but real command, power he could exercise
without seeming to.
He
was made for duplicity.
His relation to women - some women at least - seems to have been
that of a needy penitent. As exposure drew near, he became genuinely,
even childishly, terrified at the prospect of losing the good opinion of
Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother. Once, quietly drunk in a taxi with
Rosamund Lehmann, he suddenly burst into tears, and incomprehensibly
began to beg her forgiveness - though to be sure this bizarre display may
actually have been a charade used to test what Rosamund's lover,
Goronwy Rees, as someone who knew about Blunt's ring, may have
confided in their pillow talk.
Toward men, on the other hand, Blunt's attitude was one of hard,
suppressed, controlling rage, and a silent but relentless search for the point
of vulnerability. This he customarily found, not surprisingly, in the secrets
of either ambition or sex, standing or shame. Better yet, both.
