Many years ago, I had lunch with Christopher Hitchens. It was an entertaining lunch, and given that I wasn’t paying for it, I viewed his consumption of one and a half bottles of wine during it with some equanimity. Hitchens, as he did when faced with an appreciative (and young) audience, had become expansive; and, since this was before his turn to the right after 9/11 had solidified, his conversation and reminisces ranged well beyond his later obsession with Islam and Muslims. He talked of many things: P G Wodehouse, George Orwell, the American fascination with Winston Churchill, the fate
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