Jesse Armstrong is best know as one half of the country’s most talented comedy writing team. Alongside Sam Bain, he has produced TV shows such as "Peep Show", "The Thick of It" and "Fresh Meat" and films such as Four Lions. Now Armstrong has written his first novel, "Love, Sex and Other Foreign Policy Goals," a comedy following an idealistic troupe of young people travelling to war-torn Bosnia in 1994, hoping to put on a play that will end the civil war. Armstrong spoke to Sameer Rahim about the relationship between the political and the personal, and how to make a war novel funny.
Sameer Rahim: In earlier works such as The Thick of It and Four Lions, you explore how personal dynamics can shape political beliefs. The same theme crops up in Love, Sex and Other Foreign PolicyGoals, where your narrator Andrew goes to Bosnia because he cares about what’s happening in the war, but also because he wants to sleep with a girl called Penny.
Jesse Armstrong: I guess I’m interested in politics—I’m interested in ideas and ideology. I’m aware that it’s easy for the personal, the immediate and the emotional to trump the theoretical. We often end up doing things—and this is something that’s in the novel—for mixed reasons and personal ego. It’s funny to me when those things conflict. When we’ve constructed an ideological position for ourselves and we find that position coming into conflict with an immediate goal or desire.
SR: Andrew and his group seem attractively idealistic, if naive.
JA: I hope so. Personally, when I was writing the book I liked them. I’ve got a lot of time for anyone who does anything, who takes action in the world. The majority of people watch and talk and listen and don’t act. The characters in the book, their motives are not pure but I don’t feel superior to them in any way.
SR: The election campaign started this week. In The Thick of It you mine humour from political conflict. Do you miss the show now that’s ended?
JA: Maybe yes. It was a wonderful opportunity, it was a great way to write about politics. It was this great cast of people to put thoughts into the mouth of. It was also an extremely material-hungry show; hard though always enjoyable to work on. So I do miss the show but I don’t miss the many, many drafts that we worked on.
SR: The show has become a touchstone for political commentators. The 2012 budget is known as an “omnishambles.” Harriet Harman’s pink bus was called a classic “Thick of It” moment. Do you feel the show got co-opted by the political and media class that it satirised?
JA: I do recognise that feeling. If you’re making a satirical show and you’re aiming to change something, I’d say you’re on a fool’s errand. I was never under any illusion that we were going to stop people from putting presentation above policy. I guess you hope to be part of the general conversation, but I do sometimes think about how any portrayal does lead to a certain glorification and that sometimes it feels like special advisors and communications people see Malcolm Tucker as attractive—which he was sometimes because of Peter Capaldi who played him. But he shouldn’t be attractive. His means and methods and aims shouldn’t be attractive.
Sameer Rahim: In earlier works such as The Thick of It and Four Lions, you explore how personal dynamics can shape political beliefs. The same theme crops up in Love, Sex and Other Foreign PolicyGoals, where your narrator Andrew goes to Bosnia because he cares about what’s happening in the war, but also because he wants to sleep with a girl called Penny.
Jesse Armstrong: I guess I’m interested in politics—I’m interested in ideas and ideology. I’m aware that it’s easy for the personal, the immediate and the emotional to trump the theoretical. We often end up doing things—and this is something that’s in the novel—for mixed reasons and personal ego. It’s funny to me when those things conflict. When we’ve constructed an ideological position for ourselves and we find that position coming into conflict with an immediate goal or desire.
SR: Andrew and his group seem attractively idealistic, if naive.
JA: I hope so. Personally, when I was writing the book I liked them. I’ve got a lot of time for anyone who does anything, who takes action in the world. The majority of people watch and talk and listen and don’t act. The characters in the book, their motives are not pure but I don’t feel superior to them in any way.
SR: The election campaign started this week. In The Thick of It you mine humour from political conflict. Do you miss the show now that’s ended?
JA: Maybe yes. It was a wonderful opportunity, it was a great way to write about politics. It was this great cast of people to put thoughts into the mouth of. It was also an extremely material-hungry show; hard though always enjoyable to work on. So I do miss the show but I don’t miss the many, many drafts that we worked on.
SR: The show has become a touchstone for political commentators. The 2012 budget is known as an “omnishambles.” Harriet Harman’s pink bus was called a classic “Thick of It” moment. Do you feel the show got co-opted by the political and media class that it satirised?
JA: I do recognise that feeling. If you’re making a satirical show and you’re aiming to change something, I’d say you’re on a fool’s errand. I was never under any illusion that we were going to stop people from putting presentation above policy. I guess you hope to be part of the general conversation, but I do sometimes think about how any portrayal does lead to a certain glorification and that sometimes it feels like special advisors and communications people see Malcolm Tucker as attractive—which he was sometimes because of Peter Capaldi who played him. But he shouldn’t be attractive. His means and methods and aims shouldn’t be attractive.