Raphael Samuel and I were undergraduates together at Balliol in the early Fifties. Bibliographically omnivorous, buried under piles of notes and unfinished essays, inkstained and dishevelled, he exuded intellectual intensity and passionate left-wing commitment. I remember his appearing at breakfast one morning, tearful and wearing a black tie. Asked what the matter was, he burst out, weeping: 'Uncle Joe is dead!' In his new book he tells us that he was brought up in a 'bookish, religiously Communist family' and that there was a bust of J.V. Stalin on the kitchen mantelpiece. He was certainly bookish, for I remember browsing on the shelves of his college room and picking up a copy of Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations, a set book for our History prelims, only to find in it the daunting inscription: 'To Raphael on his eighth birthday.'

LRB 20 April 1995 | PDF Download