The Book of Enitharmon

I was sad to hear of the death, last week, of the actor Ian Richardson.

His greatest role, of course, was opposite Alec Guinness as Bill Haydon, the Circus Mole in the TV adaptation of John le Carré's Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. Arthur Hopcraft's brilliant adaptation of an intelligently-written thriller, written by a master of the craft and acted grippingly by everybody involved without car-chases, gory deaths or sexual pyrotechnics, may not have been the greatest piece of televison ever made, but if there has ever been better I haven't seen it.

So why, in heaven's name, has every obituary either failed to mention this or glossed over it very briefly, while all attention was focused on his role in the populist House of Cards and its fatuous catch-phrase?

Another triumph for the low and vulgar. I despair for this dumbed-down culture, I really do.