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Maurice Saatchi arrives in Heaven

maurice saatchi at home

Do Not Resuscitate: The Life and Afterlife of Maurice Saatchiopens with an arresting chapter heading – “Welcome to the Gates of Heaven”. This, if you hadn’t already deduced it from the book’s title, clues you in that Maurice Saatchi’s little book (a mere 128 pages) is decidedly surreal, even dreamlike.

At the outset though, it’s more of a nightmare, with the gates of heaven depicted as the clamorous arrival hall of an airport from hell. And hell being one of the only two destinations on offer, the immigration authorities are having a very hard time controlling the mayhem as the million or so applicants per week clamour for entry to the better option. In a command of bureaucratic doublespeak that might have been at one time a tool of his trade, Saatchi unfolds a chilling, almost Orwellian scenario in which those desperate souls jostling to cross the border to Paradise are advised of the requirement to undergo a stringent screening process (“where we separate the wheat from the chaff”). Officialdom gone mad looks positively non-interventionist compared to what this entails – the draconian interrogation of everything from an individual’s income to their sexual habits.

All of this, it’s revealed, boils down to one crucial question, which applicants must answer truthfully – “did you or did you not try to change the world for the better?” At this, the alert reader will recognise that the Saatchi hallucination wobbles on an axis of real-world ideology. Many across the ages have preached this worthy philosophy, including (as noted by the late  Christopher Hitchens in his book Hitch 22“) Horace Mann, who in 1859 counselled the students of Antioch College that they should “be ashamed to die until you have won some victory for humanity.”  

Expounding further on the question of did you or did you not do something worthy with your life, the next chapter titled “There Are Only Two Distinct Types of Humans” explains that applicants must submit to a “self-assessment” to determine their character type (rather along the lines of quizzes once popular in some magazines designed to reveal your personality). Questions designed to ferret out one’s eligibility for elevation to “up” there” or consignment to “down below” are small gems of satire, for example “you believe that your role is to bring about what would not occur without the intervention of someone like you.”

Alarmingly, Saatchi’s test results prove unacceptable (possibly the first time in his illustrious career he’s been judged to be substandard) and he must submit to a full jury trial to decide his fate in the afterlife. That the jury of peers is made up of (among others) Marilyn Monroe, Albert Einstein, Abraham Lincoln, Sigmund Freud, Martin Luther King is indicative of its probable leniency, or at least likelihood of taking a benevolent view of his shortcomings. 

maurice saatchi do not resuscitate

As the plot evolves, it becomes clear that Saatchi’s late wife, Josephine Hart, who died of cancer in 2009, has interceded to manipulate his fate so he can join her in heaven. You’ll have to read the book to discover the outcome of Saatchi’s celestial “trial” and whether or not he’s allowed to reunite with his wife.

 

Quoted in real life as saying he was beyond help following her death, Saatchi has obviously written the book as a very inventive and poignant tribute to her memory. As is often the case with art, especially highly original depictions of reality, it helps to know the background. 

As a legendary titan of the advertising industry and political heavyweight, Maurice Saatchi seems at first glance an unlikely author of what could be called an ode to his late wife. However, the two famously enjoyed a long and extremely close relationship, one in which he’s described his wife as “the person he most admired and the writer he most respected.”

Following her death from advanced and inoperable cancer, he is reported to have been inconsolable to the point where for a number of years he ate breakfast every morning at her tomb, spoke to her constantly, unfailingly set a place for her at the table and created lavish memorials in her honour, including a library holding thousands of her favourite books and filled with her photographs, portraits and mementoes of their life together. 

maurice saatchi and josephine hart

Lest it be thought he’s become a bit deranged, and these public expressions of grief are the extreme behaviours of someone who’s lost their hold on reality, one should remember this is a man of great determination, drive, and a business sense astute enough to have established, along with his brother, the largest and most successful advertising agency in the world. A member of the House of Lords, he’s also made a name for himself in politics, at one time being perceived as Margaret Thatcher’s political guru.

As someone who’s been quoted as saying “coming to terms and moving on are expressions of betrayal and unforgivable selfishness,” Saatchi is determined to do the opposite, a state of mind that precipitated more than extravagant symbolism. In backing up his statement I don’t think bereavement is a disqualification for rational thought”, he resolved to change the law to enable better access to innovative cancer treatments, such as mapping the genome. Having witnessed the cruel, degrading and ultimately futile treatments for his wife’s cancer, unchanged for 40 years, he initiated what would become the Access to Medical Treatments (Innovation) Act in 2016 designed to allow doctors access to more experimental treatments. A man consumed by grief yes, but also a man consumed by a desire to help others diagnosed with cancer and their families to find better solutions.

Endorsements of “Do Not Resuscitate” have come from an illustrious audience, including Elton John (I relished every page), The Dean of Westminster (“Beautiful and profound), Michael Dobbs (“An act of enduring and boundless love”) and Jon Snow “A work of loss, love, and distress”).

These qualities and the eloquent prose aside, the book is also vividly imaginative and hugely witty. Increasingly crumbly as the institution of marriage seems to be these days, it’s immensely heartening to read this testament of one man’s enduring love for his wife.

I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

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Anne Green

Anne Green

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