Politics was always Brian Mulroney's real love. This book falls into two main sections: first, his rise out of a working-class family in Baie-Comeau. Second, his immersion into the world of Ottawa politics, in opposition and then in power. The years in power are dealt with in fascinating detail, and we receive his candid accounts of backstage dealings with Trudeau, Clark, and other Canadian leaders and on the international scene with Reagan, Thatcher, Mitterrand, Kohl, Gorbachev, Mandela, Clinton, and many more. This big book has a huge cast of major players.Brian Mulroney is determined to make this the best prime minister's memoirs this country has ever seen, and a full-time researcher has been helping him for three years. This account of his career is colourful and forthright, and a number of opponents will be sorry that they caught his attention.The manuscript is full of personal touches and reflects the fact that he wrote it by hand, reading it aloud for rhythm and impact. Studded with entries from his private journal, this book - by a son, brother, husband, and father - is deeply personal, and includes some surprisingly frank admissions.The book establishes the scale of his achievements, and reveals him as a man of great charm. Memoirs will allow that little-known Brian Mulroney to engage directly with the reader. This book is full of surprises, as we fall under the spell of a great storyteller. “Brian Mulroney’s Memoirs might be the finest and most comprehensive memoir of any Prime Minister in Canadian history.” - Ottawa Citizen “A must-read for anyone interested in Canadian history…” - The National Post “The material (in Memoirs) remains precious… for passionate [devotees] of politics and history these memoirs will remain a work of reference” - Le Devoir “Engaging and enlightening…” - The Globe & Mail “Tough to put down… the bestselling book in Canada.” - Calgary Sun “…this is a vivid and fast-paced chronicle of an important time.” - The Montreal Gazette “Reminds us of a time, not so long ago, when politicians and politics were a lot more interesting.” - Toronto Star The Right Honourable Brian Mulroney is a Montreal lawyer who has had a fascinating career. Born in 1939, into a mill worker’s family in an isolated Quebec town, he grew up bilingual. As the first in his family to go to university, at St. Francis Xavier, then Laval Law School, he took on responsibility for the family on his father’s death. He became a successful lawyer in Montreal, specializing in labour law and coming to prominence as a member of the Cliche Commission on violence and corruption in the construction industry (where he worked through death threats). He was head of the Iron Ore Company of Canada from 1977 to 1983, capping a successful legal and business career. Since retiring from office in 1993 (the point at which this book ends), he has worked as a lawyer with Ogilvy Renault in Montreal, and on the boards of a number of major companies. It was rainy and cold in Baie-Comeau when Mila and I left the victory celebration at about one o’clock in the morning and returned to our hotel suite in what I had grown up calling “the Mill Manager’s House.” Earlier, at eight o’clock, the CBC decision desk had announced that “Brian Mulroney has led the Progressive Conservative Party to a majority government and will become Canada’s eighteenth prime minister.” I stood before the TV set with Mila, surrounded by cheering friends, as the beauty of the moment washed over me. I turned to my old pal Sam Wakim and joked, “I always said the CBC was an intelligent network.” As promising returns had come in from Newfoundland, I had asked Fred Doucet, my long-time friend and chief of staff, to call into Madawaska for a poll — any poll — result. French-speaking nothern New Brunswick had been Liberal territory forever, but a promising young candidate, Bernard Valcourt, was running for us there, and Mila and I had campaigned tirelessly with him, trying for a breakthrough. I knew that if we were ahead in a rural poll there, we were in for a big night. When I saw the grin on Doucet’s face as he concluded the call, I realized that we were looking at a landslide. Valcourt was rolling to victory, and so were we. My own constituency was vast and remote. Owing to reporting difficulties, for some hours the returns from Manicouagan were limited to one large Indian reserve that had overwhelmingly voted Liberal, conveying the impression to the watching nation that, while we were winning everywhere else, I was in serious danger of losing my own seat. This began to be reported almost as fact. Watching at Stornoway, our Ottawa home, ten-year-old Caroline was deeply dismayed. “I’m outta here!” she announced. She gathered her brothers silently and went upstairs to bed, awakening the next morning to the refreshing news that her father had indeed made it back to the House of Commons. Toward the end of the evening, when the dimensions of the P