Scoop! Journalists in Fiction

Fred Cree, reptile

In Fred Cree, Michael Shea presents a particularly unattractive journalist. And every time Spin Doctor (1995) reveals more of Cree's character ("vicious, friend to no one, enemy to all") the reader remembers that Shea spent a decade as Press Secretary to the Queen.

Cree's motivation in life was envy; envy of those richer, better placed, better looking, more successful than himself. Like some Victorian beggar, he had his nose pressed enviously against the windows of society and privilege. He felt he was always missing out on life, constantly haunted by a regret for things never done, places never visited, people never known. Affectionate relationships were strangers. Bitterness or spite defeated ambition in the confines of his mind. It was inevitable he should have chosen journalism as his career.

His 'deeply unattractive' appearance, his 'red and watery little eyes,' are a metaphor for his life:

Fred Cree was a born misfit. He had a complexion of unappealling texture, the victim of a pockmarking impetigo of childhood, further harmed by heavy beard growth which gave him a permanently scarred and unshaven appearance. He was a hairy man all over; fringes of coarse black pile sprouted from the cuffs and collars of his shirts.Those who had the misfortune to see more discovered a matted torso, back and front, which accounted for noticeable probems he had with body odour.

... Had he ended up in prison, well meaning social workers would doubtless point to his appearance as a mitigating factor in any wrongdoing.

None of which, of course, influences Cree's writing which is 'intelligent and farseeing':

He composed well with a verve and style which few could match. He was, thus, always in demand in a media that was not always choosy about the lifestyle of its journalists.

Mr Write . . .

Journalists may get a bad press in general fiction, but it's a different matter in women's romances. For author and ex-journalist Jilly Cooper, reporters make the perfect romantic hero. In Imogen, a newspaper reporter called Matt is the only noble character in a group including a vicar, a tennis champion and a film producer. In Prudence and short story The Ugly Swan, journalists Ace and Danny again stand out for their integrity, and both get the girl in the end. 

Cooper presents various journalistic qualities as appealing - sharp wits and intelligence, strong social conscience, energy and passion - but the one she constantly highlights is the journalist's ability to empathise with and listen to people.

This is the admiring heroine in The Ugly Swan speaking...

"Danny seemed to have time for everyone. At a party, he would talk to the plainest woman in the room and within 10 minutes she'd be glowing and happy, with a crowd gathering around her."

And in Imogen:

As always, Matt drew confidences out of her, as the sun brings out the flowers . . . He's a journalist, she kept telling herself, he's trained to ask questions and be a good listener. He'd do the same to anyone.

What woman wouldn't like this - a man whose very job it is to listen and show an interest? It could almost be described as a traditionally feminine role or quality (in Janice Radway's study Reading the Romance, she concludes that readers want feminine characteristics in their fictional heroes because what they're really seeking is some nurturing of the type they traditionally dole out.)

Perhaps this is why a romantic fiction writer might see journalism as an appealing profession for a man, while male writers tend to see it as slightly shameful or play up its macho elements. In Jilly Cooper, there is no stitching people up, bribery or corruption - in fact, her reporters will grant copy approval at the drop of a hat.