First published in 1938, this is the second James Curtis title to be reprinted by London Books (The Gilt Kid appeared in 2007) and sees the author take his favourite themes of justice and equality on a rollercoaster ride through the streets of the capital and onto the great roads heading North. This new edition comes with an introduction by the well-known writer, broadcaster and Curtis-fan, Jonathan Meades.
British author best known for his novels They Drive By Night and There Ain't No Justice, both of which were made into feature films.
James Curtis was born Geoffrey Basil Maiden, in Sturry, Kent. Curtis' parents were hoteliers in India as well as later in England, where Curtis attended The King's School, Canterbury. In 1934, he appeared in two films, Manhattan Melodrama and Fugitive Lady, in uncredited roles. He soon adopted the pseudonym of James Curtis and began a career as an author.
Curtis used his plots to highlight the unfairness of society and dearth of opportunity that often led people to break the law in straitened times. He was forced to stop writing at the outbreak of World War II during which he went on to tour France and Burma, and rose to the rank of Major. After the war, his marriage failed and his literary momentum never recovered, though he published one final novel in the 1950s.
In 2007, London Books republished his 1936 novel, The Gilt Kid and in 2008 They Drive By Night, as part of their London Classics series.
Another solid outing from James Curtis and an interesting insight into 1930s Britain, much in the same vein as his other two reprinted novels from London Books. We do get more of a tour of the countryside this time, however. This would be four stars aside from some creaky plotting, especially in the second half. Very interesting from a historical and ye-olde slang perspective.
Shorty Mathews is a wide boy - ”wide as Regent Street” - ”and he ain’t a mug neither.” But he finds himself framed for a murder he didn’t commit and goes on the run, out of the Smoke and into the night-time world of prewar long-distance lorry drivers.
This is the underworld of transport cafes, greasy with bacon sandwiches and awash with cups of tea. And the lorry girls – yours for ”half a crown, a florin and six-pennorth of coppers”, though some drivers think that’s a bit steep (”’Blimey,’ he grumbled. ‘and I stood you a couple of teas and a bacon sandwich. And a large Player and all.’”). Pursued by the Sweeney (first usage 1938, according to the redoubtable Eric Partridge), Shorty and girl crisscross the country, whilst the real murderer plans further dubious excitements in London.
They Drive By Night is a more cinematic novel than The Gilt Kid, as Jonathan Meades notes in his introduction to this fine new London Books edition, and indeed it was almost immediately made into a film (featuring the inimitable Ernest Thesinger, author of Adventures In Embroidery, as the murderer). By the same token it’s also more romantic, with Shorty playing the knight in shining armour to a lorry girl about to be raped by middle-class motorists (Curtis was a determined socialist). There are also some unlikely promises of going straight and getting married towards the end of the book, which is surprisingly bourgeois – though just the job for a film audience. Marxism tempered by the Odeon, perhaps. Still, the plot isn’t the main thing. It’s the atmosphere, it’s the language, it’s the dialogue that make the book. And it's a book I liked a lot.
“’Thanks, mate. You’re a toff.’
‘I ain’t. Just another driver, that’s all. Come on. Let’s have a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich all round and then we’ll get started.’”
A good story of working class people in London and the way they were treated by The Old Bill in the 1930s. A lot of slang being used that even i as a former Londoner from North London found hard to translate but a book worth reading.
Perfectly crafted noir. Superb characterisation, dialogue and plot. Action sequences, multiple POV's, internal dialogues - it's all there! Refreshing to have a story involving lower/working class people (including dialect/slang). Travesty that this title and the name of the author JAMES CURTIS are not MUCH better known. I now need to seek out his other two main works The Gilt Kid and There Ain't No Justice...
Some excellent atmosphere especially when we are on the road, but it seems to peter out towards the end. Historically interesting though without a doubt.