John Betjeman began writing for the Telegraph in 1951 and continued to do so for a quarter of a century.
During that time Britain underwent profound social and cultural changes. In architecture, grand Victorian edifices were pulled down to make way for gleaming brutalist monuments to the Future. In literature, a new generation of angry young men (and women) challenged convention head on. In music, pomp and circumstance gave way to the electric guitar. And in fashion, hemlines crept up.
Amongst much of the population, however, such rapid change met with disquiet: a nagging sense that the New had displaced much that was wonderful in the Old. By turns eccentric, wistful and polemical, Betjeman’s writing for the Telegraph gave voice to this unease.
From contemporary reviews – often refreshingly caustic – of novelists such as Ian Fleming, Nancy Mitford and J.D. Salinger, through prescient warnings about the threat posed to the English skyline by office blocks, motorways and concrete lamp-standards, to elegiac paeans to Norman churches and, of course, the gothic majesty of St Pancras station, Lovely Bits of Old England collects the very best of Betjeman’s contributions to the Telegraph for the first time. Taken together they offer a eulogy for what was lost and an impassioned defence of the past in the face of progress’s relentless onward march.
Curmudgeonly is perhaps the adjective some would use to describe Betjeman’s essays on architecture, some of which are reprinted in this collection of articles he wrote for the Telegraph over 25 years starting in 1952. Others have said that he essentially ploughs the same furrow, in his persistent lamenting of the neglect of beautiful old buildings and the ugliness of modern new architecture. Maybe he does but is he alone in his feeling that functionality without awe leaves us all somewhat poorer. Of course modern architecture can be admired, London’s Barbican complex is a high point of Brutalist architecture and one can be impressed by it but it is not likely to give anyone a breath taking moment of transcendence in the way that looking at Florence’s duomo does. The problem, I think, he recognises is one to do with civic pride and about how a society perceives itself and what it deserves. At one point buildings were monumental, imposing and made cities look wealthy and important and gave beauty to every member of that society regardless of wealth. The mentally ill had the Holloway Sanatorium which looks like a stately home rather than a clinical, cold box of a building, the sick being treated at St Bartholomew’s hospital could enter through a gate onto a square of buildings that offered a sense of history to offset fear of the future. It also gave towns and cities an individuality that is lacking today when every place on the map seems to have used the same committee to plan new building projects.
As England braces itself for the implementation of Labour’s huge building project, some of which will certainly be built on greenfield sites, it is perhaps perspicacious to remember that building with only function and no form in mind is a sure way to kill the morale of a nation. People deserve, and arguably need, beauty and magnificence in the everyday to offset the mundanity of the daily grind. Undesired chores are made more bearable by something lovely – think a drive through quaint villages and open countryside as opposed to the grey monotony of a motorway and I think at its heart this is what Betjeman was saying. His writings are a mourning for what has been lost and a pleading to preserve what is left and has moments that are profoundly moving.
I wish Betjeman’s books were coated in rubber so that they’d return to your hand after throwing them against the nearest wall. His books are tender, insufferable, wrong-headed and pithy all at once. Who built what in 1801 and where Lord Uphisownarse bought his horses get plenty of coverage; people almost never.
The book reviews are the best parts of the book, models of concision and unashamed feeling. The bad ones tell you as much as the good ones. Catcher in the Rye bags a single paragraph, Lord of the Flies barely more. Evelyn Waugh is a ‘genius’; lefties like JB Priestley are born failures. Betjeman is the first to hail Lucky Jim as the funniest book in a generation despite his normally half-baked ideas about what goes on in the world outside Oxbridge.
I have been dipping in and out of this for around three weeks, whilst reading other books. A selection of writings from John Betjeman published in The Telegraph in the 50s and 60s. These articles have become something of an historical eulogy; one might say that they have no relevance nowadays. Nevertheless, they are worth reading to understand Betjeman's love of architecture and his disdain for 'developers' in a country still recovering from the deprivations of the 2nd World War. He loved churches and on 30th May 1952 he wrote a wonderful article entitled "The Churches of England are Part of Our Life". He was a stalwart supporter of St. Pancras station and the St. Pancras hotel and I am sure he would be delighted to know that these great architectural edifices have been restored to their former glory.
His book reviews were often dismissive. In 1951 'The Catcher in the Rye' and 'The Day of The Triffids' were afforded a single paragraph in The Telegraph. In 1953 about 'Casino Royale' he says: "It suffers from falling apart two-thirds of the way through..." Rather amusing for a book that is still in print more than 60 years later!
John Betjeman will always be remembered for his passionate defence of Britain's Victorian heritage. He was knighted in 1969 and appointed Poet Laureate in 1972. He died in 1984.
This collection of newspaper articles, from book reviews to longer pieces on towns / architecture, was patchy. Some of the pieces were really interesting and well written, while I found others a bit bland.
Overall I found this book fascinating, in particular the way that many of the little issues of 50 years still seem relevant.
enjoyable reading - Betjeman's ability to capture the essence of a place shines through in these journalistic jaunts spanning the country from the nineteen-sixties.
As well as being a noted poet Betjeman was well known for his enthusiasm for Victorian architecture and the suburbs of Britain, whose virtues were extolled in the 1973 BBC documentary Metroland.
This is a collection of articles Betjeman wrote for the Telegraph newspaper. The majority of the pieces are on architecture and landscape with the remainder comprising book reviews, travelogues and some miscellaneous one off pieces such as a review of the Victorian and Edwardian exhibition held at the Victoria and Albert Museum in 1952.
As the articles date from the 1950s and 1960s they give an interesting perspective on the times they were written, as well as insight into the author himself. I was surprised by Betjeman's liking for Art Nouveau and his fairly even-handed description of the new Coventry Cathedral designed by Basil Spence. Although critical of some aspects of the Cathedral, his focus is clearly on the briefing given to the architect resulting in a somewhat generic design aiming to be all things to all people rather than a confident expression of the Anglican faith. Spence himself is considered to be "an architect of imagination and with a sense of detail as well as plan, as his Sea and Ships Pavilion on the South Bank and this cathedral fully testify." The pavilion mentioned was part of the Festival of Britain of 1951 and was demolished when the festival closed, possibly to the distress of Mr Betjeman.
The book reviews cover a fairly wide range of fiction including what are now long forgotten novels alongside those regarded as classics. It was amusing to see the dismissals of some noted writers - HP Lovecraft is said to be "not frightening", although readable. Elsewhere a couple of paragraphs are devoted to a notable work which is still in print today and much more space is devoted to a book I have never heard of.
The quality of the essays is a little variable, some were enjoyable and thought provoking whilst others were a little flat and uninspired. The parts I liked the least were the travelogue parts such as an essay on the Isle Of Man. There was a lot of basic factual description in these such as informing the reader that the Isle Of Man is 33 miles long and 12 miles wide. This may have been considered quite informative at the time but to a modern audience it feels unnecessary when Wikipedia is so easily accessible.
Overall this was a good collection which was worth reading. I would have liked some more context on the pieces to explain some of the references and details. In one piece for example the Royal Arcade of Newcastle is described as being threatened with demolition but the book does not explain that it was demolished from 1963-64 or that it had been built in an unfashionable part of town which resulted in a lack of commercial success and demolition being considered as early as the 1880s. The book also lacks an index or a listing of the individual articles in the contents section. It would be nice if these could be added in a future reprint.
I didn't expect to enjoy this book as much as I did, but each day, I have looked forward to when I had the free time to open it and read a bit more (including during slow hours at work!). In fact, I'm almost sad that it is now finished! The writing and amount of detail, the pictures painted by Betjman's original writing...It was just a very comforting read about the kind of England I one day hope to see for myself. If you are looking for an informative book that you can use to both relax and learn, then I definitely recommend this one!
Very interesting read. Mostly articles written for the Telegraph on Architecture, Town Planning and Book reviews. You get a really good insight ito the great man himself.
I received this for Christmas - people in my family evidently know I'm a long-term fan of Betjeman's poetry. It's a collection of his writings from the Daily Telegraph from book reviews to longer pieces on architecture and his pet subject of preserving old buildings.
Betjeman writes prose like a poet and his articles flow beautifully, melting into your brain like melted butter into toast. The book reviews are particularly interesting as the include some contemporary reviews of novels that have become modern classics - Fahrenheit 451 and Lucky Jim for example.