These days, a nice original Vauxhall Viva costs an arm and a leg, but back in the 1970s, £100 bought you a 'good little runner', with the rust, bald tyres and dodgy MOT thrown in for free. All you needed was someone who knew how to fix it when it broke down!
Brian Cunningham is that someone – or, at least, he used to be. Under the Bonnet is the totally true* story of being a car mechanic in the old days, when fixing a car was one thing, but keeping it fixed was something else entirely. These are the tales of a bygone age, full of secret scams, chaotic characters and cars almost bursting with personality.
Confessions is a misnomer as not many personal confessions here more self-righteousness about what a top mechanic he was and how he tried to be better than the environment in which he worked.
The book meandered and changed complete focus on confessions of a car mechanic to stories about school days, being a shop steward and successful job interviews. Most chapters had nothing to do with the subject matter the title of the book suggests.
Several chapters are devoted to repairing cars owned by his family in boring detail and what a good job he did , hardly any confessions here just being a blowhard as he comes across pretty much throughout the entire book.
It’s 160 pages long yet regards actual personal confessions it could have been 16 pages . He warns some tales may be taller than others but you’d be hard pushed to find anything startling here.
The book ends with Cunningham telling us that he didn’t miss the old days in the trade but someone had to tell it how it really was and he had. With an emphasis on really. Maybe one day someone will write about how it really was and with their confessions without excuses or implications that they were above all the shenanigans. Cunningham really hasn’t and if he ‘really’ has then it’s a story not worth writing.
A book that warns you some tales are taller than others would suggest you’re in for some outlandish stories and maybe the odd smile. I had a strong sense Cunningham was trying to convince himself he was some kind of loveable rogue but unable to hide he is an insufferable and self-important bore.
He hopes we enjoyed the ride. In his priggish company I certainly didn’t and had I been one of his colleagues I definitely would have avoided him and hung out with the guys who just talked about cars and sexual conquests that he found so predictable. Let’s face it the 70’s and 80’s young blokes didn’t talk about much else and he avoided it, a not so likely lad.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Having read two of his books previously (check out Walsingham, Hero of Norfolk if you like well researched historical fiction) I 'vet been looking forward to this since I first heard of its pending publication.
It's a look back at his life as a mechanic in the 70's and the cars that he worked on. No flash motors here, just the rust heaps and bangers that anyone of a certain age remembers.
So, if you're a petrol-head, or like me, remember your first car (a clapped out mini) with nostalgia mixed with a dash of horror that these thing were actually on the road, check it out.
I finished this in one day, so it must have been pretty good!
I am a bit older than the author of this book but as my father explained the workings of the internal combustion engine on the back of a cigarette packet, I suppose I was doomed to do a lot of DIY mechanics. This book reveals very amusingly pretty much every problem Ive had with a car, even cutting out the roof of a. Renault R4L with tinsnips and replacing it with a convertible roof from another, sandwiched with mastic and pop riveted it. It worked!! For all of us able to remember the wonderful, unreliable, but