Following on from your fine obituary of David Butler (9 November) and, of course, Michael Crick’s wonderful 2018 Sultan of Swing: The Life of David Butler, I would like to add to the affectionate portrait from the perspective of one of a long list of David’s co-authors.
The Butler name opened all doors and it was a pleasure and a privilege to sit in on interviews with politicians and party officials – many of whom David had taught. He was a great puncturer of pomposity – though done always with amused tenderness. And, although his own writing process may have slowed down a little by the time I had the privilege of working with him, he was a stickler for deadlines (our children were greatly amused by David’s peremptory telephone style: “Is Martin there? It’s an emergency!”).
But perhaps the greatest pleasure and privilege of all was wandering around this lovable man’s childhood and youthful haunts in Bloomsbury and Westminster as he recounted anecdotes about the people and places he had known, from Churchill to Blair and beyond.
Martin Westlake
Brussels, Belgium
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