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London Perceived
"In unfailingly elegant prose, V. S. Pritchett dissects the city of London with eloquence and understated wit, providing a timeless distillation of the London experience. He shows us the capital through the centuries – a panorama of history, art, literature; a paradox of grandeur and grime, the bustling markets and tranquil parks, the ancient and modern, the palaces and pubs, the docks and train depots. Here is the city that Londoners know.
At the heart of the book is an astute and affectionate portrait of the Londoner – enigmatic and enduring, with a remote but insistent respect for law, royalty, and ritual, a love of argument, a tolerance of eccentrics. Pritchett gives us famous Londoners (Wren, Pepys, Dickens) and the ordinary folk (milkmen and master mariners, dockers and shopkeepers, Chelsea pensioners, and the London bobby).
London Perceived tells the rich and surprising story of this great and historic city – Londoners will see their home anew, and visitors appreciate its smaller wonders. A loving tribute London past and present."
At the heart of the book is an astute and affectionate portrait of the Londoner – enigmatic and enduring, with a remote but insistent respect for law, royalty, and ritual, a love of argument, a tolerance of eccentrics. Pritchett gives us famous Londoners (Wren, Pepys, Dickens) and the ordinary folk (milkmen and master mariners, dockers and shopkeepers, Chelsea pensioners, and the London bobby).
London Perceived tells the rich and surprising story of this great and historic city – Londoners will see their home anew, and visitors appreciate its smaller wonders. A loving tribute London past and present."
154 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1962
10 people are currently reading
260 people want to read
About the author
V.S. Pritchett
158 books72 followersVictor Sawdon Pritchett was the first of four children of Walter Sawdon Pritchett and Beatrice Helena (née Martin). His father, a London businessman in financial difficulties, had come to Ipswich to start a shop selling newspapers and stationery. The business was struggling and the couple were lodging over a toyshop at 41 St Nicholas Street where Pritchett was born on 16 December 1900. Beatrice had expected a girl, whom she planned to name after the Queen. Pritchett never liked his first name, which is why he always styled himself with his initials; even close friends would call him VSP.
Pritchett's father was a steady Christian Scientist and unsteady in all else. Walter and Beatrice had come to Ipswich to be near her sister who had married money and lived in Warrington Road. Within a year Walter was declared bankrupt, the family moved to Woodford, Essex, then to Derby, and he began selling women's clothing and accessories as a travelling salesman. Pritchett was soon sent with his brother Cyril to live with their paternal grandparents in Sedbergh, where the boys attended their first school. Walter's business failures, his casual attitude to credit, and his easy deceit obliged the family to move frequently. The family was reunited but life was always precarious; they tended to live in London suburbs with members of Beatrice's family. They returned to Ipswich in 1910, living for a year near Cauldwell Hall Road, trying to evade Walter's creditors. At this time Pritchett attended St. John's School. Subsequently Pritchett attended Alleyn's School, Dulwich, and Dulwich College but he stayed nowhere for very long. When his father went to fight in World War I, Pritchett left school. Later in the war Walter turned his hand to aircraft design, of which he knew nothing, and his later ventures included art needlework, property speculation, and faith healing.
Pritchett was a leather buyer from 1916 to 1920, when he moved to Paris, where he worked as a shop assistant. In 1923 he started writing for the Christian Science Monitor, which sent him to Ireland and Spain. From 1926 he wrote reviews for the paper and for the New Statesman, which later appointed him literary editor.
Pritchett's first book described his journey across Spain (Marching Spain 1928) and Clare Drummer (1929) was about his experiences in Ireland. Whilst in Ireland he met his first wife, Evelyn Vigors, but it was not to be a happy marriage.
Pritchett published five novels but he claimed not to enjoy their creation. His reputation was established by a collection of short stories (The Spanish Virgin and Other Stories (1932)).
In 1936 he divorced his first wife, and married Dorothy Rudge Roberts; they had two children. The marriage lasted until Pritchett's death, although they both had other relationships. His son is the journalist Oliver Pritchett and his grandson (son of Oliver) is the cartoonist Matt Pritchett.
During World War II Pritchett worked for the BBC and the Ministry of Information whilst continuing to submit a weekly essay to the New Statesman. After the war he wrote widely and he started taking teaching positions at universities in the United States: Princeton (1953), the University of California (1962), Columbia University and Smith College. He was fluent in German, Spanish, and French, and published successful biographies of Honoré de Balzac (1973), Ivan Turgenev (1977) and Anton Chekhov (1988), although he did not know Russian and had never visited the Soviet Union.
Pritchett was knighted in 1975 for his services to literature and became Companion of Honour in 1993. His awards include Heinemann Award (1969), PEN Award (1974), W.H. Smith Literary Award (1990), and Golden Pen Award (1993). He died of a stroke in London on 20 March 1997.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/V._S._Pr...
Pritchett's father was a steady Christian Scientist and unsteady in all else. Walter and Beatrice had come to Ipswich to be near her sister who had married money and lived in Warrington Road. Within a year Walter was declared bankrupt, the family moved to Woodford, Essex, then to Derby, and he began selling women's clothing and accessories as a travelling salesman. Pritchett was soon sent with his brother Cyril to live with their paternal grandparents in Sedbergh, where the boys attended their first school. Walter's business failures, his casual attitude to credit, and his easy deceit obliged the family to move frequently. The family was reunited but life was always precarious; they tended to live in London suburbs with members of Beatrice's family. They returned to Ipswich in 1910, living for a year near Cauldwell Hall Road, trying to evade Walter's creditors. At this time Pritchett attended St. John's School. Subsequently Pritchett attended Alleyn's School, Dulwich, and Dulwich College but he stayed nowhere for very long. When his father went to fight in World War I, Pritchett left school. Later in the war Walter turned his hand to aircraft design, of which he knew nothing, and his later ventures included art needlework, property speculation, and faith healing.
Pritchett was a leather buyer from 1916 to 1920, when he moved to Paris, where he worked as a shop assistant. In 1923 he started writing for the Christian Science Monitor, which sent him to Ireland and Spain. From 1926 he wrote reviews for the paper and for the New Statesman, which later appointed him literary editor.
Pritchett's first book described his journey across Spain (Marching Spain 1928) and Clare Drummer (1929) was about his experiences in Ireland. Whilst in Ireland he met his first wife, Evelyn Vigors, but it was not to be a happy marriage.
Pritchett published five novels but he claimed not to enjoy their creation. His reputation was established by a collection of short stories (The Spanish Virgin and Other Stories (1932)).
In 1936 he divorced his first wife, and married Dorothy Rudge Roberts; they had two children. The marriage lasted until Pritchett's death, although they both had other relationships. His son is the journalist Oliver Pritchett and his grandson (son of Oliver) is the cartoonist Matt Pritchett.
During World War II Pritchett worked for the BBC and the Ministry of Information whilst continuing to submit a weekly essay to the New Statesman. After the war he wrote widely and he started taking teaching positions at universities in the United States: Princeton (1953), the University of California (1962), Columbia University and Smith College. He was fluent in German, Spanish, and French, and published successful biographies of Honoré de Balzac (1973), Ivan Turgenev (1977) and Anton Chekhov (1988), although he did not know Russian and had never visited the Soviet Union.
Pritchett was knighted in 1975 for his services to literature and became Companion of Honour in 1993. His awards include Heinemann Award (1969), PEN Award (1974), W.H. Smith Literary Award (1990), and Golden Pen Award (1993). He died of a stroke in London on 20 March 1997.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/V._S._Pr...
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
November 21, 2016
A charming, superbly erudite little number that wears its knowledge lightly.
Takes in architecture, literature, history, memoir. It's worth it alone for Pritchett's description of the Tower of London (ravens like 'dilapidated Tudors'. Love it). I learned more about the Neo-Gothic from this short piece than I've got out of numerous well-intentioned architecture primers. I mean, that idea of London having for centuries hankered for Europe culturally yet by the Victorian age facing the world - how clever and how obvious it seems to me now. The idea of the 17th century being all idealistic and rational, only to be sullied by the brutality of the Industrial Revolution, turning us all Ruskin and Morris. This the sort of memorable storytelling that teachers should do more often.
He's got such a fine eye for character too (I'd normally dismiss most people's generalisations about a city's inhabitants. But coming from VSP though - well, they're allowed). Great on Defoe too.
Definitely one for your London Non-Fiction shelf. He's a superb short story writer as it is (though sadly overlooked), so to find him having written about London Tahn is sweet as. Must see if there's any Chinatown in Limehouse left (pretty sure there isn't). Some good pub tips in there too.
Takes in architecture, literature, history, memoir. It's worth it alone for Pritchett's description of the Tower of London (ravens like 'dilapidated Tudors'. Love it). I learned more about the Neo-Gothic from this short piece than I've got out of numerous well-intentioned architecture primers. I mean, that idea of London having for centuries hankered for Europe culturally yet by the Victorian age facing the world - how clever and how obvious it seems to me now. The idea of the 17th century being all idealistic and rational, only to be sullied by the brutality of the Industrial Revolution, turning us all Ruskin and Morris. This the sort of memorable storytelling that teachers should do more often.
He's got such a fine eye for character too (I'd normally dismiss most people's generalisations about a city's inhabitants. But coming from VSP though - well, they're allowed). Great on Defoe too.
Definitely one for your London Non-Fiction shelf. He's a superb short story writer as it is (though sadly overlooked), so to find him having written about London Tahn is sweet as. Must see if there's any Chinatown in Limehouse left (pretty sure there isn't). Some good pub tips in there too.
February 6, 2017
Daunt Books have issued this new edition of Pritchett's essay to a London he clearly loved. Written as it was in the sixties, it is now not so much an introduction to London as a slice of social history. Back then there were still a few lightermen plying their trade across the Thames, and even in a few backwaters lamplighters cycling round every night to tend to the gaslights.
I don't know London well - I've only ever been an occasional visitor, but that doesn't stop this from being a very interesting read. Frequently when he is talking about the attitudes of Londoners, he could be talking about the British in general - particularly when he is tackling subjects such as class.
Beautifully written, it is one man's London - I suspect every inhabitant would have their own, equally valid version but few would be so erudite.
I don't know London well - I've only ever been an occasional visitor, but that doesn't stop this from being a very interesting read. Frequently when he is talking about the attitudes of Londoners, he could be talking about the British in general - particularly when he is tackling subjects such as class.
Beautifully written, it is one man's London - I suspect every inhabitant would have their own, equally valid version but few would be so erudite.
January 25, 2024
A little more academic than I expected, but I did enjoy some London flavor after my trip. Plus this cover is one of my favorites.
August 10, 2007
Pritchett's prose style reflects and sometimes wonderfully shapes his subject matter: the special character of London places, their people, and their literature.
In the first few peripatetic chapters, Pritchett riffs his contemporary London of the late 60s, observing its inhabitants and dilating on the physical and social structures they prefer. Their love of nature and privacy leads to gated squares and fenced gardens; even a day laborer furtively tends to a few flowers marked off by pebbles, not for the benefit of passers-by, but imagining it's a "bit 'o the country", his estate miles from the dirty city.
But the meat of Pritchett's book concerns itself with literary history, trying to recreate the streets and river traveled by Edwardians to Victorians, and cleared occasionally by fire or plague. He's excellent on the world of Shakespeare's players, Defoe's bankruptcy, Pepys' childhood, and Dicken's historicity.
The story winds down in postwar London as our narrator speculates (with accidental humor) on the significance of leather jackets and bell bottoms. Still, his eye is keen, and he peels away the layers of his casted London as many of his predecessors do, unlocking exactly what and how he sees, except himself.
In the first few peripatetic chapters, Pritchett riffs his contemporary London of the late 60s, observing its inhabitants and dilating on the physical and social structures they prefer. Their love of nature and privacy leads to gated squares and fenced gardens; even a day laborer furtively tends to a few flowers marked off by pebbles, not for the benefit of passers-by, but imagining it's a "bit 'o the country", his estate miles from the dirty city.
But the meat of Pritchett's book concerns itself with literary history, trying to recreate the streets and river traveled by Edwardians to Victorians, and cleared occasionally by fire or plague. He's excellent on the world of Shakespeare's players, Defoe's bankruptcy, Pepys' childhood, and Dicken's historicity.
The story winds down in postwar London as our narrator speculates (with accidental humor) on the significance of leather jackets and bell bottoms. Still, his eye is keen, and he peels away the layers of his casted London as many of his predecessors do, unlocking exactly what and how he sees, except himself.
March 13, 2024
Author V.S. Pritchett was formerly the literary editor in the New Statesman and the Nation, before his death in 1997. This book was originally published in 1962, but strangely very little of it feels out of date.
So, this is a book of London, but about perceptions of the city, from the point of view of the author and of others. Reading this, I got the impression that Pritchett had travelled around London a lot, as he came across as quite knowledgeable, noting how every street seems to feel different and offer an almost unique vista. He is critical of some parts of London; Tottenham Court Road, for example.
I enjoyed reading the observations about the people who live in London, including a chapter on immigration, and also commentary on the behaviour of Londoners. In one chapter, there is an account of how an old man butted in on an overheard conversation between a man and woman. The woman reacted by offering him a pound note to buy a pint, before telling him it would be rude to accept and putting her money away again. Cockney rhyming slang is mentioned a number of times, and how it characterises London, but might seem alien to outsiders.
The buildings are also mentioned, with a lot of commentary on them and their architects; Christopher Wren, who designed St. Paul's Cathedral gets mentioned a lot, he describes Westminster Abbey as "a sinister sort of railway terminal" because of the crowds of people who go there.
The book also comments on how different artists and writers have portrayed London, with references to the famous "Gin Alley" painting that depicted the seedier side of London, and also commenting on how Dickens always portrays London as quite grim. Pritchett himself seems full of praise for London, comparing it positively to Manchester, which he perceives as having very little life after 7pm (this is possibly less true in modern times).
Overall, this book felt a bit difficult to read at times because of the language used, but it was enjoyable nevertheless, although it felt like one of those titles where I end up not remembering every single word I have read, and finish with just a few big takeaways. Worth reading anyway to be able to see a portait of London through other peoples' eyes.
So, this is a book of London, but about perceptions of the city, from the point of view of the author and of others. Reading this, I got the impression that Pritchett had travelled around London a lot, as he came across as quite knowledgeable, noting how every street seems to feel different and offer an almost unique vista. He is critical of some parts of London; Tottenham Court Road, for example.
I enjoyed reading the observations about the people who live in London, including a chapter on immigration, and also commentary on the behaviour of Londoners. In one chapter, there is an account of how an old man butted in on an overheard conversation between a man and woman. The woman reacted by offering him a pound note to buy a pint, before telling him it would be rude to accept and putting her money away again. Cockney rhyming slang is mentioned a number of times, and how it characterises London, but might seem alien to outsiders.
The buildings are also mentioned, with a lot of commentary on them and their architects; Christopher Wren, who designed St. Paul's Cathedral gets mentioned a lot, he describes Westminster Abbey as "a sinister sort of railway terminal" because of the crowds of people who go there.
The book also comments on how different artists and writers have portrayed London, with references to the famous "Gin Alley" painting that depicted the seedier side of London, and also commenting on how Dickens always portrays London as quite grim. Pritchett himself seems full of praise for London, comparing it positively to Manchester, which he perceives as having very little life after 7pm (this is possibly less true in modern times).
Overall, this book felt a bit difficult to read at times because of the language used, but it was enjoyable nevertheless, although it felt like one of those titles where I end up not remembering every single word I have read, and finish with just a few big takeaways. Worth reading anyway to be able to see a portait of London through other peoples' eyes.
July 18, 2018
"London is revealed to the mind, the heart, and the eye with eloquence and character in this handsome volume -- a collaboration of text by V.S. Pritchett, one of England's most brilliant writers, and photographs by Evelyn Hofer, whose camera artistry is internationally respected.
"Here is a witty and knowing distillation of London experience -- a panorama of its history, art, literature, and life. This is the city that Londoners know, a paradox of grandeur and grime, a place of bustling markets and tranquil parks, of ancient and modern, of palaces and pubs, docks and railroad depots.
"Great Londoners of the past walk in this pages -- Wren, Pepys, Defoe, Hogarth, Johnson, Dickens. And here are the faces of the people who inhabit London today -- milkmen and master mariners, dockers and shopkeepers, messengers, Chelsea pensioners, and, inevitably, a London policeman.
"Mr. Pritchett's text is masterfully complemented by the photographs that demonstrate Miss Hofer's artistic eye. Her visual capture of one city in The Stones of Florence is now equaled by her illuminating reflections of London.
"There is, as well, an analysis of the Londoner himself, enigmatic and enduring, with his reverence for law, his pleasure in royalty and ritual, his respect for argument, and his toleration of eccentrics.
"In these loving, yet penetrating recognitions of a great city's past and present, London lives."
~~front flap
I had a hard time reconciling my memories and impressions of London with those proffered in this book -- until I looked at the publication date: 1962. This book may be a good snapshot of London in the early 60s, but it's changed so much since then that it hardly seems possible that it presents the same city.
I found the photographs mostly dark and dreary, and the text a bit patronizing -- it seemed to be written with more of an eye to showcasing the author's brilliance and superiority than written with an eye to making London accessible. Perhaps I've just missed out on the Londoners' makeup -- perhaps they really are inaccessible and inbred.
"Here is a witty and knowing distillation of London experience -- a panorama of its history, art, literature, and life. This is the city that Londoners know, a paradox of grandeur and grime, a place of bustling markets and tranquil parks, of ancient and modern, of palaces and pubs, docks and railroad depots.
"Great Londoners of the past walk in this pages -- Wren, Pepys, Defoe, Hogarth, Johnson, Dickens. And here are the faces of the people who inhabit London today -- milkmen and master mariners, dockers and shopkeepers, messengers, Chelsea pensioners, and, inevitably, a London policeman.
"Mr. Pritchett's text is masterfully complemented by the photographs that demonstrate Miss Hofer's artistic eye. Her visual capture of one city in The Stones of Florence is now equaled by her illuminating reflections of London.
"There is, as well, an analysis of the Londoner himself, enigmatic and enduring, with his reverence for law, his pleasure in royalty and ritual, his respect for argument, and his toleration of eccentrics.
"In these loving, yet penetrating recognitions of a great city's past and present, London lives."
~~front flap
I had a hard time reconciling my memories and impressions of London with those proffered in this book -- until I looked at the publication date: 1962. This book may be a good snapshot of London in the early 60s, but it's changed so much since then that it hardly seems possible that it presents the same city.
I found the photographs mostly dark and dreary, and the text a bit patronizing -- it seemed to be written with more of an eye to showcasing the author's brilliance and superiority than written with an eye to making London accessible. Perhaps I've just missed out on the Londoners' makeup -- perhaps they really are inaccessible and inbred.
June 4, 2025
Got this in a used bookstore and picked it up, figuring I'd flip through it, but never read the whole book. But I'm glad I decided to read it from front to back before a trip to London in 2025. The author seems to enjoy poking fun at his city and its citizens, while at the same time taking pride in London, despite the city's many faults.t. Published in 1962 it (my version anyway) it provides a valuable glimpse of the city in the post-war years as London remade itself into the modern city that it is today. As someone familiar with the city, it's interesting to see the pictures and read about the city's character (and characters). The author's personality and humor make it a particularly enjoyable read. He comes across as awful quirky and a bit of a wise-ass, something that honestly caught me off-guard and took me a while to appreciate. "Londoners put up with Queen Victoria because she possessed a certain character: something preposterous and incurable." That's a hell of a quote right there, and the book is chock-full of them.
Don't make the mistake I did in thinking this is going to be a stuffy read by a likewise drab author. It is a witty, funny, and valuable book for anyone enthusiastic about Londons past and how it began becoming the London of present day.
Don't make the mistake I did in thinking this is going to be a stuffy read by a likewise drab author. It is a witty, funny, and valuable book for anyone enthusiastic about Londons past and how it began becoming the London of present day.
December 22, 2024
’Whenever I come back from abroad, I am always struck by the calm of the London face. It reposes on its worry like a turnip in imperfect soil, and positively fattens on self-control. Of all the capitals or great cities I have known, London is the one least on edge, though often profoundly depressed.’
Started out interesting but became less so as it went along.
I can’t help but think I wouldn’t have read this had it not been the updated modern hardback edition that I owned.
Started out interesting but became less so as it went along.
I can’t help but think I wouldn’t have read this had it not been the updated modern hardback edition that I owned.
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August 30, 2011Apparently writing for a US audience (the book was first published there in 1962), V. S. Pritchett presents a much less romanticized London than many books of this type. After an opening chapter focused on the varied character of Londoners but not on his own role as perceiver, he proceeds to a mostly chronological account of the city's history, in which architecture and literary figures both feature prominently. It all leads to a chapter describing Westminster (Palace and Abbey), and one more expressing his view that immigration has brought vitality to the modern city. Photos by Evelyn Hofer add an effective visual element though Pritchett never refers to them, with faces and locations that illustrate his account.
January 29, 2017
It wasn't obvious to me before I was a few pages into this book that it was a re-release, originally published in the 70s. So my motivation for reading it was a little out of place. Nevertheless the prose were wonderfully constructed and readable - even if many of the stories and anecdotes felt dated (because they were). If nothing else, it was a good reminder of how far London has progressed in the last 40 years - although based on the nostalgic tone of the writing, I suspect the author may not agree that all progress has indeed been progress. I would recommend this for anyone. Interested in an intimate view of London pre 1980, but don't expect a contemporary guide to today's cosmopolitan London.
April 8, 2015
a great companion piece for readers to keep handy when reading about london. written in 1962 and full of big format black and white photos (photos perhaps best part) and v s pritchett (lugubriously) goes through the history of london about elizabethan to post wwii talking about streets, the river, architecture and history, speech, jobs, art. Dr. Johnson & Mr. Savage so for ex. it is fun to have 'london perceived' when reading the mid 1700's dr. johnson book.
March 11, 2014
I didn't exactly like or dislike this book. Rather, it was hard for me to find a rhythm while reading, and I think this is because the book's rhythm was confused; it couldn't seem to decide if this was a book for Londoners filled with self-referential and witty loops that only true natives would understand, or if this was a book for foreigners filled with just enough background info on a wide variety of topics to whet their appetites.
January 14, 2011
A description of London and Londoners through the ages that stops in the 1960 when the book was written.
The modern London that he describes is already ancient history, the docklands are no longer full of cheerful cockneys unloading ships, but full of bankers in bars.
Facsinating how quickly times change.
The modern London that he describes is already ancient history, the docklands are no longer full of cheerful cockneys unloading ships, but full of bankers in bars.
Facsinating how quickly times change.
July 2, 2013
Old Dr Johnson had it right : "When a man tires of London...." Pritchett shows you why and does so beautifully. I want to buy my airline ticket immediately! Wonderful!
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews