Watching Brecht's Mother Courage recently at the National Theatre, I was reminded of the character of Johnny Rooster Byron in Jerusalem by Jez Butterworth.

Both Courage and Rooster are charismatic outsiders who inspire loyalty bordering on devotion, despite their oft-expressed cynicism and self-interest. Both have a strong hedonistic streak and refuse to compromise. And both, in many ways, are victims of mainstream society who could easily be pitied.

I suppose these characters might be called antiheroes  - they certainly have things in common with characters in this list (which, fabulously, includes Arthur Dent). But I also like the term 'Machiavel' (derived from Machiavelli) that I found recently in Jonathan Bate's book about Shakespeare, Soul Of The Age.

In Elizabethan times, Bate explains, Machiavelli's writings were widely demonised and a writer like Marlowe only gave voice to them in patently 'evil' characters.

Shakespeare, however, while 'recognising the theatrical charsima of the Marlovian Machiavel', makes them real characters with real motivations. Characters like Richard III, Iago and Edmund in King Lear who 'say the unsayable' and challenge conventional thinking.

That's what Courage and Rooster do, too.  And like, Shakespeare's characters, though appearing to be completely cyncial, deep down they are in fact supremely principled.

That's why they break our hearts.
 
 
Having written a play about the death of Margaret Thatcher, I feel strangely sensitive (perhaps even protective) about the event itself.

So this story on BBC News today caught my attention:

A misconstrued text message announcing the passing of a beloved pet has sparked a flurry of diplomatic activity in Canada.

Transport Minister John Baird sent a message reading: "Thatcher has died".

Conservative Prime Minister Stephen Harper was soon informed that 84-year-old former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher had passed away.

But it was actually Mr Baird's beloved cat, named after his political heroine, who had died.

Of course, the fact that such a non-story made the news, and the traffic to the blog about my Thatcher play tripled overnight, shows just how much fascination her eventual demise continues to hold.

Update: Obviously this post should have been titled "The death of Moggie Thatcher"