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Scamp
As well as the elegant squares of Bloomsbury, Ivan Ginsberg walks the decaying back-streets of Soho, haunting cafes and pubs in company with an array of bohemian characters. As he wanders, his hopes of literary success seem further away than ever. With no capital and no backing, will he ever manage to produce 'Scamp', the literary magazine which gives this book its title?
265 pages, Unknown Binding
First published January 1, 1950
107 people want to read
About the author
Roland Camberton
2 books7 followersRoland Camberton (1921-1965) was a British writer whose real name was Henry Cohen, though his family also knew him as Harry. He won the 1951 Somerset Maugham Award, given to authors under the age of 35, for his novel Scamp.
The following year, he published Rain on the Pavements. A novel reflecting Jewish life in Hackney during the thirties, this book received a much more positive review (this one from Julian Symons). Camberton then vanished off the literary map. He does not appear to have published any books after 1951. Indeed, few details of his life are available, and there is no mention of him whatsoever in The Times archives. The writer Iain Sinclair has described him in an interview as a "Hackney writer". He did, indeed, attend Hackney Downs School (formerly The Grocers' Company's School) until 1938 and two poems by him were published in the School Magazine (The Review). He was buried under his birth name, Henry Cohen, in Rainham Jewish Cemetery in 1965.
The following year, he published Rain on the Pavements. A novel reflecting Jewish life in Hackney during the thirties, this book received a much more positive review (this one from Julian Symons). Camberton then vanished off the literary map. He does not appear to have published any books after 1951. Indeed, few details of his life are available, and there is no mention of him whatsoever in The Times archives. The writer Iain Sinclair has described him in an interview as a "Hackney writer". He did, indeed, attend Hackney Downs School (formerly The Grocers' Company's School) until 1938 and two poems by him were published in the School Magazine (The Review). He was buried under his birth name, Henry Cohen, in Rainham Jewish Cemetery in 1965.
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
March 5, 2012
Slowly but very seriously reading every novel that takes place in Soho London, and "Scamp" by the mysterious Roland Camberton is one of the best. Written and published in 1950, this novel tells the tale of a 30 year old who is pinning a lot of hopes on a new literary journal he wants to start called Scamp. But of course he has to raise the money as well as get the writers - and here we have an incredible snapshot of Boho London as well as a London still affected by the war.
The beauty of this book is not really its plotting but its sense of place and time. Camberton is a wonderful observer of London life and people just barely making it. One Soho bar or coffee (cafe) after another - you can basically taste the lukewarm weak tea and the even warmer beer off the page. What makes it for me is Camberton's take on this world - slightly mocking towards its subject matters - but still you get a full understanding what makes these citizens of Soho tick.
As usual, when you get a Iain Sinclair introduction, that makes the book a must. And this new press that seems to be devoted to one of my favorite subjects - London circ. 1950's is a sign of superb editorship. New London Editions is the press and the three other titles I have read so far - makes this an exciting discovery.
The beauty of this book is not really its plotting but its sense of place and time. Camberton is a wonderful observer of London life and people just barely making it. One Soho bar or coffee (cafe) after another - you can basically taste the lukewarm weak tea and the even warmer beer off the page. What makes it for me is Camberton's take on this world - slightly mocking towards its subject matters - but still you get a full understanding what makes these citizens of Soho tick.
As usual, when you get a Iain Sinclair introduction, that makes the book a must. And this new press that seems to be devoted to one of my favorite subjects - London circ. 1950's is a sign of superb editorship. New London Editions is the press and the three other titles I have read so far - makes this an exciting discovery.
February 15, 2014
Scamp is another of those classic London novels from the 1950s that evokes Julian Maclaren-Ross, Patrick Hamilton, Norman Collins, Samuel Selvon and so on. It makes a brilliant companion piece to Adrift in Soho by Colin Wilson.
The back streets of Soho and the West End are brought vividly to life and, whilst the plot is slightly inconsequential, that doesn't make the book any less enjoyable. Every page provides an opportunity to experience late 1940s bohemian London and, as I think we can all agree, that is a wonderful thing.
Julian Maclaren-Ross makes a few appearances as "Angus Sternforth Simms", who is usually to be found in The Corney Arms (a thinly disguised version of his home-from-home The Wheatsheaf pub). Indeed the sections of Scamp that take place in The Corney Arms could have come straight out of Paul Willetts's biography of Julian Maclaren-Ross "Fear and Loathing in Fitzrovia".
Interestingly, and despite his appearance (or perhaps because of), Julian Maclaren-Ross was particularly scathing about this book in his review of it for Times Literary Supplement on 10 November 1950...
"The book is written from the standpoint of the "bum": that bearded and corduroyed figure who may be seen crouching over a half of bitter in the corner of a Bloomsbury "pub"; it is ostensibly concerned with the rise and fall of a short-lived literary review, but Mr. Camberton, who appears to be devoid of any narrative gift, makes this an excuse for dragging in disconnectedly and to little apparent purpose a series of thinly disguised local or literary celebrities."
Despite Julian Maclaren-Ross's negativity, the book won the 1951 Somerset Maugham Award (given to authors under the age of 35) and I can quite see why. The book's great strength is its evocation of late 1940's London and in particular the areas of Bloomsbury, Soho, Kings Cross, Fitzrovia, Fleet Street, and the multifarious and compelling bohemian characters that populate this world.
The book was out of print for many years, until publishers Five Leaves, through their New London Editions imprint, republished it in 2010 (they've also republished two books by Alexander Baron which I have on my shelf and will be reading soon). I love books like this and am delighted that more of these titles are getting reprinted. There's a beauty and a purity in the shabby streets and seedy cafes and the lives lived on the margins. Not only that, but as the story went on the more quietly profound it became as Camberton muses on maturity and the loss of youth, and how being poor and bohemian loses its allure after a time.
Sadly Roland Camberton only wrote one other book before giving up writing, Rain On The Pavements, and that has also been republished by Five Leaves. Whilst about halfway through this book, and filled with enthusiasm for Roland Camberton, I got hold of a copy of Rain On The Pavements yesterday which I will read sometime soon. It's such a shame that there's only two books to read, still we should savour these two novels and be grateful to Five Leaves for bringing them back into print. Both novels have been reprinted complete with their original cover art by John Minton which are both beautiful artworks and really compliment the contents and enhance the reading experience.
The back streets of Soho and the West End are brought vividly to life and, whilst the plot is slightly inconsequential, that doesn't make the book any less enjoyable. Every page provides an opportunity to experience late 1940s bohemian London and, as I think we can all agree, that is a wonderful thing.
Julian Maclaren-Ross makes a few appearances as "Angus Sternforth Simms", who is usually to be found in The Corney Arms (a thinly disguised version of his home-from-home The Wheatsheaf pub). Indeed the sections of Scamp that take place in The Corney Arms could have come straight out of Paul Willetts's biography of Julian Maclaren-Ross "Fear and Loathing in Fitzrovia".
Interestingly, and despite his appearance (or perhaps because of), Julian Maclaren-Ross was particularly scathing about this book in his review of it for Times Literary Supplement on 10 November 1950...
"The book is written from the standpoint of the "bum": that bearded and corduroyed figure who may be seen crouching over a half of bitter in the corner of a Bloomsbury "pub"; it is ostensibly concerned with the rise and fall of a short-lived literary review, but Mr. Camberton, who appears to be devoid of any narrative gift, makes this an excuse for dragging in disconnectedly and to little apparent purpose a series of thinly disguised local or literary celebrities."
Despite Julian Maclaren-Ross's negativity, the book won the 1951 Somerset Maugham Award (given to authors under the age of 35) and I can quite see why. The book's great strength is its evocation of late 1940's London and in particular the areas of Bloomsbury, Soho, Kings Cross, Fitzrovia, Fleet Street, and the multifarious and compelling bohemian characters that populate this world.
The book was out of print for many years, until publishers Five Leaves, through their New London Editions imprint, republished it in 2010 (they've also republished two books by Alexander Baron which I have on my shelf and will be reading soon). I love books like this and am delighted that more of these titles are getting reprinted. There's a beauty and a purity in the shabby streets and seedy cafes and the lives lived on the margins. Not only that, but as the story went on the more quietly profound it became as Camberton muses on maturity and the loss of youth, and how being poor and bohemian loses its allure after a time.
Sadly Roland Camberton only wrote one other book before giving up writing, Rain On The Pavements, and that has also been republished by Five Leaves. Whilst about halfway through this book, and filled with enthusiasm for Roland Camberton, I got hold of a copy of Rain On The Pavements yesterday which I will read sometime soon. It's such a shame that there's only two books to read, still we should savour these two novels and be grateful to Five Leaves for bringing them back into print. Both novels have been reprinted complete with their original cover art by John Minton which are both beautiful artworks and really compliment the contents and enhance the reading experience.
June 8, 2025
I've had Scamp sitting on the shelf waiting to be read for probably a year now. I have no idea why it took so long to get round to it as, on the face of it, it's right up my shop-soiled London avenue. Camberton himself is something of a mystery. A two novel and out author who has gradually, mostly down to the unavailability of his books I suspect, become a minor cult figure.
Scamp is an entertaining little book, funny and a nice snapshot of the time and area, but it never really goes anywhere, and the very full cast of occasionally Dickensian (Bert Flogcrobber anyone?) characters are introduced and discarded to small effect. I did enjoy it, despite the above complaints and the slightly underwhelming ending.
Scamp is an entertaining little book, funny and a nice snapshot of the time and area, but it never really goes anywhere, and the very full cast of occasionally Dickensian (Bert Flogcrobber anyone?) characters are introduced and discarded to small effect. I did enjoy it, despite the above complaints and the slightly underwhelming ending.
December 13, 2017
This is my first foray into jewish fiction and it's not bad. The story follows a chap by the name of Ginsberg who wants to start a magazine called Scamp and the events therein.
Written and set in 1950s London Mr. Cambertons' writing is solid and vivid in execution and deserves greater attention than it is receiving at this time.
While this is the sort of thing I would not normaly read it took me in.
And to think it was bought for the superb John Minton cover.
Written and set in 1950s London Mr. Cambertons' writing is solid and vivid in execution and deserves greater attention than it is receiving at this time.
While this is the sort of thing I would not normaly read it took me in.
And to think it was bought for the superb John Minton cover.
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March 6, 2014to hunt down...
May 31, 2024
A well written and enlightening depiction of Bloomsbury and Soho in the early 60s. Something of a Withnail and I, feel to the book. Overall I enjoyed the read but think it would appeal more to people in their 30s who will empathise with the aspiring writer who is the central character.
December 3, 2024
“The streets behind Tottenham Court Road were at their worst, empty, hot, oppressive. In the little teashop which he frequented, a blowsy domineering waitress stood with one hand resting against the tea-urn...Outside the clouds gathered for a storm. Soho had never seemed so rotten.”
A tour of down-at-heel, literary Bloomsbury, Soho, and Fitzrovia in the late 1940s blessed with an introduction by Iain Sinclair who tries to uncover what little information survives on its author.
Scamp works well enough as a portrait of its time and place – the bars, the cafes, the clubs – and their generally defeated clientele. But I have to say it lacks the deft touch of Patrick Hamilton or the acerbity of Gerald Kersh. Much is made of the caricature of Julian Maclaren-Ross, enthroned in his favourite pub, but Maclaren-Ross was the better writer – and said as much in his review of the book.
Held very loosely together by faltering attempts to launch a new literary magazine called “Scamp”, the novel not only follows the author’s alter ego in pursuit of passion and finance, but also follows several of his associates along their various paths, making the whole thing a bit baggy. Some of the characters and encounters flicker into life and there’s an occasional engaging observation or wry smile, but not as many as I had hoped for - though I was taken with a very minor player called Penshaw who is in the unlicensed “divan racket” and employed “half the bums in Charlotte Street”. As a species of villainy this leaves me stumped.
It’s a book that was certainly worth rescuing from its long obscurity, but not, perhaps, one that’s an essential addition to the literature of London.
A tour of down-at-heel, literary Bloomsbury, Soho, and Fitzrovia in the late 1940s blessed with an introduction by Iain Sinclair who tries to uncover what little information survives on its author.
Scamp works well enough as a portrait of its time and place – the bars, the cafes, the clubs – and their generally defeated clientele. But I have to say it lacks the deft touch of Patrick Hamilton or the acerbity of Gerald Kersh. Much is made of the caricature of Julian Maclaren-Ross, enthroned in his favourite pub, but Maclaren-Ross was the better writer – and said as much in his review of the book.
Held very loosely together by faltering attempts to launch a new literary magazine called “Scamp”, the novel not only follows the author’s alter ego in pursuit of passion and finance, but also follows several of his associates along their various paths, making the whole thing a bit baggy. Some of the characters and encounters flicker into life and there’s an occasional engaging observation or wry smile, but not as many as I had hoped for - though I was taken with a very minor player called Penshaw who is in the unlicensed “divan racket” and employed “half the bums in Charlotte Street”. As a species of villainy this leaves me stumped.
It’s a book that was certainly worth rescuing from its long obscurity, but not, perhaps, one that’s an essential addition to the literature of London.
March 18, 2012
This is definitely a novel of it's time. Bohemian London in the early '50's.
The characters are what draw you in: wonderful,colourful, lively, madly despairing and seedy, it's all here and i wonder if it's still out there in one form or another, this world Mr.Camberton is revealing to us. Although i doubt many poor people live in the West End anymore, unless it's next to a dustbin.
The characters are what draw you in: wonderful,colourful, lively, madly despairing and seedy, it's all here and i wonder if it's still out there in one form or another, this world Mr.Camberton is revealing to us. Although i doubt many poor people live in the West End anymore, unless it's next to a dustbin.
October 14, 2015
literary type a bit over the hill - ie, 30 - barely exists in bloosmbury /soho with similar types and other appropriate characters. very neatly observed worlds, inner and outer, and it shifts up a gear nicely in the second half,with an unexpectedly successful ending
February 27, 2014
An excellent evocation of the Soho of my father's youth and a subtle study of anti-semitism. Miserable to the point of tedium though.
April 18, 2017
Author stand-in Ivan Ginsberg wanders the streets of Soho and Fitzrovia in 1950, but it feels like 1930. There's no post war optimism here, no brave new world, no welfare state, just bombsites, rationing and shortages. Whilst trying – and failing – to start a literary magazine, Ivan comes across low-lifes, prostitutes, black marketeers, desperate housewives, spivs, destitute capitalists, communists, gangsters, bohemians, and a thinly veiled Julian Maclaren Ross (Angus Sternforth Simms). In brief, all those folk that people who complain about old Soho disappearing, love. Even though the book was published almost 70 years ago, there are instantly recognisable types: the flustered woman desperate to please, the Aspergsy man who doesn’t know how to communicate, the guy always cadging a drink, the middle aged man who thinks England has gone to the dogs and why can't it be like the good old days when “beer was beer and whisky was Scottish and cigarettes were sixpence for twenty and you could tell the difference between a dustman and a duke.” This latter ends up joining the Association of British Freemen and Yeoman – the 1950s version of UKIP although the Jews are the focus of their anger rather than Muslims. The newspaper are also as venal as they are today, described by Ginsberg as: “on the whole for the perpetuation of falsity, meanness drabness, narrowness and for inequality”.
An entertaining romp through social and geographical history with a surprise happy ending.
An entertaining romp through social and geographical history with a surprise happy ending.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews