Spicy Currie - by Susan Poizner
Jerusalem Report, April 21, 1994

A woman on the ascent in a "values-oriented" Tory party, Edwina Currie has shaken things up with a novel where sex comes in every variety, including with strawberries and cream.

On a foggy night, the New Palace of Westminster has an ominous look, reminiscent of Batman's Gotham City. The clock tower of this huge Gothic-style building, home of the British Parliament, slashes toward the gray sky. Inside, Big Ben sways quietly, waiting to strike out the quarter hour.

The building's interior is no less imposing. In the Central Lobby, haloed portraits of Britain's patron saints look down upon a visiting journalist with expressions of gentle concern, as if they know she is about to encounter one of the most formidable members of the House of Commons, Edwina Currie. One of the handful of Jews in Parliament, Currie has been noted for her energy, bluntness and common-sense approach to politics. Now she has added some notoriety to this reputation, with a raunchy new novel about sex and romance in Westminster.

Jewish she is, but she's none too enthusiastic about it. And the 49-year-old former Edwina Cohen, the Liverpool born daughter of an Orthodox tailor and his wife, will take great pains to tell you so. "I haven't functioned as a Jewish person for a quarter of a century," Currie snaps. "My family wouldn't accept my husband because he wasn't Jewish and they wanted nothing to do with me. Since my father died in 1975, I have gotten closer to my mother and brother, but I still don't share their (Orthodox) lifestyle."

That sort of straight talk is unusual for one who moves in a world where circumlocution is the name of the game. Currie's toughness and straightforwardness have helped her gain re-election to Parliament twice since her original election in 1983. At times they have also managed to embroil her career in controversy. But for Currie, it seems that controversy is the spice of life.

Why else would she, a Conservative MP in a government campaigning for a return to "traditional" values in its "Back to Basics" campaign, write "A Parliamentary Affair"? It is the story of Elaine Stalker, a feisty Tory MP who juggles a constituency, a husband and teenage daughter, and a steamy extra marital liaison. The novel is not the stuff of great literature, but it oozes with graphic descriptions of oral sex, gay sex and sex involving strawberries and whip cream.

Stalker finds herself constantly struggling against chauvinism in the House of Commons, and feels her obvious talents are ignored. Appreciation and a sympathetic ear come in the guise of Government Whip, Roger Dickson. As their relationship progresses from the strictly professional to passionate romance, it threatens to ruin both her marriage and her professional life.

To date, the book has sold nearly 30,000 copies in hardcover. Currie says another novel is on the way. "For me, writing is fun and relaxing and totally different from my normal life, where I'm dealing with facts all the time," says Currie.

There is, of course, the profit motive as well. On the basis of an outline alone, and the writer's celebrity status, her novel was sold by auction to publishers Hodder & Stoughton for a reputed advance of 100 thousand pounds ($150,000).

Before Currie was elected MP for Derbyshire South in the Midlands, she had taught economics and business at university level and served on Birmingham City Council. In the House, she proved herself energetic and dedicated and in 1986 Margaret Thatcher promoted her to a junior ministerial post in the Department of Health. There Currie developed a reputation for her vigorous stands against smoking and unhealthy eating. She also became known for her toughness. Edwina Currie, one of her colleagues once suggested, is "capable of a put-down that could fry an egg."

Unfortunately, however, Currie was the one who got fried. In 1988, her career cracked after she declared that most of the country's egg production was affected by salmonella, a type of bacteria that causes food poisoning. Although she was largely correct, she probably overstated her case, and then was too stubborn to retract or apologize. Her remarks caused egg sales to take a dive and alienated her from the nation's egg farmers, and Currie had little choice but to resign her post, in December 1988.

But even as a humble MP, Edwina Currie has managed to keep her name in the headlines. Most recently, she campaigned to lower the age of consent for gay sex from 21 to 16, the age when heterosexual activity is permissible. In a compromise vote, the House lowered the age to 18. Her attitude may seem liberal for one once reputed to be a right-wing Conservative who spoke out for traditional family values.

"Aw, come on," she says about that reputation. "I made a comment once about personal behavior. The question was how businessmen can avoid getting AIDS when abroad. I said 'Take the wife along.' It was tongue in cheek! I don't go around making moral statements."

Currie is now setting her sites on Europe. Last year, she turned down an offer from John Major of a junior ministerial position in the Home Office. In June she will run for election to the European Parliament. After 11 years in Westminster, perhaps Currie is ready to move on.

Edwina Currie's manner hasn't softened with the years, but it seems that her attitudes toward Judaism and Israel have. "When I first went to Israel four years ago, I found a mess. It was the middle of the intifada, before the change of government. Now I think Rabin is doing a good job." She compares Israel's situation with that of Britain in Northern Ireland. "The difficulty here is that the IRA doesn't have Arafat as a leader," she says, without a hint of irony. "If they did, the violence would have stopped by now."

Currie and her husband, Ray, an accountant, have two teenage daughters. The older of the two seems to be warming to Israel as well. She has spent some time on a kibbutz and made a lot of friends there, Currie says.

The impact of "A Parliamentary Affair" has been muted by the true-life sex scandals that have recently rocked the British government, ranging from admissions of affairs and the parenting of illegitimate children to the Tory M who was found dead in February wearing women's stockings and a plastic bag on his head. Sometimes truth can be more shocking than fiction.

Nevertheless, the novel has raised a few eyebrows. "Sex is for fun," Currie says, as though she can't understand what all the fuss is about. "When I was discussing some of the sex scenes in my book with some friends, they were quite startled when I said that. Then I realized that is more of a Jewish view. They were brought up with the Christian tradition that sex is naughty and only a tool for procreation."

Be that as it may, Judaism plays only a very small role in Edwina Currie's life. "People keep trying to draw me back into the Jewish community," she says. "If the community had been more welcoming in the first place, I would never have left. To me Judaism is my background and my history, of which I'm proud. But that's it."

She stalks back through the great halls of Westminster where she works all hours for her constituency. It is they, she seems to be saying, who are the community that accepted her as she is.