Bright Young Things discussion

Welcome to the April group read of...

The Slaves of Solitude by Patrick Hamilton

Enjoy!

I LOVED this book. I had never read anything by Patrick Hamilton before and I think one of the best things about reading groups is being introduced to new authors that you might not try/find by yourself.

I'm so pleased that you enjoyed it Susan.

Patrick Hamilton is one of my favourite writers. I'm really looking forward to what other members of the Bright Young Things make of this novel, which I think is one of his best.

I have so many things to say about this book however for now I will give other people a chance say what they thought about the book.

I really look forward to your thoughts.

I also loved this book, it has a wonderful mixture of grimness and humour so that I was laughing while thinking how horrible Miss Roach's situation is.

Oddly enough, one of Patrick Hamilton's novels (Hangover Square) was suggested on A Good Read (R4) recently and everyone seemed at pains to say they admired it, but all the characters were depressing. I did not feel that with Solitude. I liked Miss Roach and most of the inhabitants of the boarding house, and there was humour in even the worst characters. The author really described that time and place very well. I was inwardly cringing during the mealtimes!

This is the only one of his I have read so far, although I intend to read others. I think that I would still admire the writing as much but enjoy the book less without the humour.

Well, I haven't read any more either yet, although I intend to. I think I would prefer to make my own mind up about his work. I know the author was an alcoholic and he certainly had a preoccupation with drink.

Here's a good review...

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2007/...

I've just laughed out loud at Mr Thwaites speaking in his Troth language 'So at the Hour of Noon thou visiteth the Man of Many Medicines - dost thou?'

Joanne wrote: "I've just laughed out loud at Mr Thwaites speaking in his Troth language 'So at the Hour of Noon thou visiteth the Man of Many Medicines - dost thou?'"

It's wonderful isn't it?

Ally wrote: "Here's a good review...

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2007/..."

Yes, it's great . It's strange, but before discussing this book with Susan and Val, I had Mr Thwaites as the more appalling character - but they convinced me that actually Vicki is worse. She was certainly more duplicitous. At least with Thwaites what you see is what you get. Vicki's deceptiveness and untrustworthiness is more reprehensible that the tragi-comic Thwaites.

How about his for a great deconstruction of Mr Thwaites' character and behaviour. It's in the article Ally highlighted, which is written by David Lodge and well worth a read in its entirety:

Mr Thwaites is a great comic creation, who has the tireless malice and negative energy of Dickens's villains - Quilp, Fagin, Squeers, Bounderby, Pecksniff. Not that Thwaites commits any crime, or inflicts any physical pain on his victim, Miss Roach. He tortures her purely through language, through the manipulation and exploitation of the conventions of polite conversation which apply to middle-class communal eating. Hamilton is a master of what linguists call pragmatics and philosophers call speech act theory and theatrical directors call "Actions", all based on the principle that every utterance, however trivial, is not only saying something, but doing something to the addressee, by tone, by implication, allusion, or by some other means. What Mr Thwaites is invariably doing to Miss Roach is bullying her; by, for example, forcing her to deny things which she has never affirmed in order to extricate herself from false imputations. By this means he exerts control over her. Thus the first remark he addresses to her at table in the novel is: "'Your friends seem to be mightily distinguishing themselves as usual,' and oh God, thought Miss Roach, not that again, not that again."

This remark is Mr Thwaites' way of referring to Russian victories on the eastern front. He himself was an admirer of Hitler before the war, and is rabidly opposed to communism; the success of the Russian armies in the Allied cause is therefore a source of displeasure to him, though he dare not admit as much, so he seeks to dissociate himself from it by gratuitously associating the Russians with Miss Roach, while at the same time devaluing it by the dismissive phrase, "as usual". Miss Roach attempts to counter this move, which she understands very well, by remaining silent, but Mr Thwaites insists on repeating it, so the code of polite conversation forces her to reply, first by pretending not to understand: "Who're my friends?" "Your Russian friends," says Thwaites. "They're not my friends," says Miss Roach, "any more than anybody else." And when Mrs Barratt, who shares the table, comes to her support by saying, "You must admit they're putting up a wonderful fight, Mr Thwaites", he replies, "Oh yes ... They're putting up a fight all right."

His omission of Mrs Barratt's epithet, "wonderful", is full of implication: "the savage and sombre way in which he said this suggested that they were not putting up a fight as other and decent people would, or that they were only doing so because they jolly well had to, or that their motives were of a kind which he did not care to make public". Then, as he usually does when his argumentative strategy is blocked, Mr Thwaites proceeds to torture his victims indirectly by torturing the English language, making remarks in a ghastly idiolect full of phoney archaism, stage dialect, threadbare cliché and proverbial bromides: "I Keeps My Counsel ... like the Wise Old Bird ... I Hay ma Doots ... as the Scotsman said ... Of Yore." It is equally impossible to reply to these remarks either in their own style or in normal English, so the listeners are obliged to endure them in silence as long as the meal lasts, and at every meal. "Now, after more than a year of it, Mr Thwaites was president in hell."

President in hell - I'd forgotten that. Perfect.

I felt both Mr Thwaites and Vicki were, essentially, bullies - but Vicki was, in my opinion, the nastier of the two. Mr Thwaites is a more comic character - although poor Miss Roach certainly does not find him so in her battle of the dining room! Absolutely sublime writing - you are involved, you take sides, you care, you cringe, you laugh. Who can ask for more from an author?!

I agree that Vicki was the nastier of the two. Miss Roach finds Mr Thwaites the more difficult because he keeps doing the same thing day after day and meal after meal; she knows he will and dreads it, so it grinds her down over time. Vicki's nastiness usually comes as a surprise to Miss Roach, so she is shocked and angry, but is not so cowed by it.

Yes, Susan and Val, I agree with you both.

I've just written down a few questions that I will attempt to answer later, however for now I'll just post here. Please feel free to answer any you find interesting....

To what extent do you view the book as a comedy?

How does the book explore the nature of war?

How much sympathy did you feel for Mr. Thwaites? How much did you like him (despite his conduct)?

What do you like about Patrick Hamilton's writing?

What was your favourite Mr Thwaites' quotation (or quotations)?

What role does Mr Prest play in the story?

How do you account for Hamilton's relative obscurity?

Where does Hamilton fit when compared with other contemporary English writers?

I am not sure I viewed this book as a comedy, although Mr Thwaites did add dark humour to a situation which would have been pretty bleak without that to lift it.

I thought the book explored war at home very well. I recently read a wonderful war memoir, about a young schoolteacher. This novel reminded me of that - especially how people got used to things and simply carried on with life. In a way, it's an important view of life on the Home Front and the author created a real sense of time and place. Her fraught journeys from the station to the boarding house was especially well written, with the inhabitants relaxing slightly as she came through the door - because, really, I suppose you never really knew whether people would make it home if there were bombing raids.

How does the book explore the nature of war?

Susan wrote: "I thought the book explored war at home very well...."

You make some very good points about the uncertainly of life during bombing raids.

I think the book also explores war through the battle being waged at The Rosamund Tea Rooms. Would it be overstating it to suggest that the larger battle between Nazism and democracy was, on one level, a war between good and evil, and in the same way, the battle taking place at The Rosamund Tea Rooms was this in microcosm?

The other aspect of war that the novel references is the the realities of day-to-day life in Britain during WW2. Although Miss Roach generally just skims the headlines to see who is winning, she notices the impact:

"....the war was slowly, cleverly, month by month, week by week, emptying the shelves of the shops -- sneaking cigarettes from the tobacconists, sweets from the confectioners, paper, pens and envelopes from the stationers, fittings from the hardware stores, beer from the public houses, and so on endlessly -- while at the same time gradually removing crockery from the refreshment bars, railings from familar places, means of transport from the streets, accommodation from the hotels, and sitting or even standing room on the trains."


What role does Mr Prest play in the story?

Mr Prest sits silently alone at mealtimes and then disappears off to the West End to socialise with his theatrical friends. His presence provides a detached, objective view of Thwaites' intrusive idiocy within the story. Although the other guests remain unaware of Prest's views, we know he perceives them (and, of course, with the exception of Miss Roach) "with the disdain of an original and educated man who had seen life for small-town ignoramuses too confined and paltry in their outlook to take seriously for a moment."


What was your favourite Mr Thwaites' quotation (or quotations)?

Here's one for now, and from the early part of the book....

"She goeth, perchance, unto the coffee house, there to partake of the noxious brown fluid with her continental friends?"

This of course when Miss Roach is still friends with the "continental" Vicki Kugelman - who also manages to use some mangled, faux-idiomatic English (e.g. "You must learn to be sporty, Miss Prude").

It was interesting how Miss Roach responded when she realises at the end of the novel that Mr Prest has been more than aware of everything that has been going on. Mr Prest is underestimated, but I was glad he managed to find himself a role, literally, by the end of the book.

I think the war of the tea rooms managed to convey the war in general very well - it was cleverly done, but you were aware of exactly what the author meant. No mean feat!

To what extent do you view the book as a comedy?
I don't see the book as a comedy, although the comedic moments lift the book out of the unrelenting grimness. I think this comes back to the suggestion that Mr Thwaites is a Dickensian character. Some of Dickens' villains are over the top caricatures, but they don't turn his books into comedies.

How does the book explore the nature of war?
The main fighting is very much in the background. The shortages and inconveniences on the Home Front wear people down. The bombing raids and the constant threat of them wear people down. Mr Thwaites is doing the same to Miss Roach. Vicki's attacks are more deliberate and aimed more accurately.

How much sympathy did you feel for Mr. Thwaites? How much did you like him (despite his conduct)?
I didn't like him at all, he was a stupid, boring bigot, but I did feel some sympathy for him at the end, when he was a pathetic, confused old man.

What do you like about Patrick Hamilton's writing?
I like his observation, the way he captures conversations so well and his cast of ordinary, yet finely drawn characters.

What was your favourite Mr Thwaites' quotation (or quotations)?
All the 'trothing' stuff made me laugh, but I don't think I would pick one, as it is the fact that he was likely to break into it at any moment which made it funny.

What role does Mr Prest play in the story?
Mr Prest is the intelligent, non-obtrusive observer. His life is elsewhere. I think Patrick Hamilton was putting himself into the novel in the person of Mr Prest.

How do you account for Hamilton's relative obscurity?
I can't! He might be seen as dated, as he does write about a time and milieu which has vanished, but his characters are so well observed and recognisable that the setting becomes less important.

Where does Hamilton fit when compared with other contemporary English writers?
There are some similarities with J B Priestly, but the first writer I thought of when reading him was Beryl Bainbridge (who was not a contemporary).

Wonderful, thoughtful and insightful replies Val. Thanks. I'll expand a bit more myself when I have a bit more time - and pick up on a few of your excellent points.

Val wrote: "the first writer I thought of when reading him was Beryl Bainbridge (who was not a contemporary). "

Very interesting. I've never read any BB but you're inspired me to give her work a try. What would you recommend for the BB first timer?

Her earlier ones are closer to Patrick Hamilton I think,
The Bottle Factory Outing
Injury Time
Young Adolf
An Awfully Big Adventure is her earliest well known one, so might be the best to start with.
She has some downtrodden characters and some caricatures, quite a lot of black humour and often uses downbeat settings, although some of the events she sets in them are considerably more far-fetched.
Her later ones are unusual takes on historical events and figures.

Beryl Bainbridge is one of my fave authors. I really liked An Awfully Big Adventure, Young Adolf and According to Queeney. I think they are my favourites. I recently read a book about her Beryl Bainbridge: Artist, Writer, Friend. Psiche Hughes which was very interesting - I had no idea she was, at one point, poised between being an artist or a writer and it was chance which ended with her as a full time author.

Actually, thinking about it, some of her novels are set during our time period (even if not written then). Perhaps I will recommend one next month.

I forgot about According to Queeney!
Yes, quite a lot of hers fit into our time period.

All this enthusiasm (from two of my favourite BYTers) has made me even more determined to sample some of BB's work. Thank again. Wonderful stuff - and what GR and BYT is all about.

Val wrote: "How do you account for Hamilton's relative obscurity?

I can't! He might be seen as dated, as he does write about a time and milieu which has vanished, but his characters are so well observed and recognisable that the setting becomes less important."

Me neither. I think he might well come back into fashion, perhaps he is already. I think his tales of ordinary people chime more with our times and current literary tastes and preferences.

Changing tack....it may only have been Val, Susan, Joanne, and me that have made any comments so far (though I notice Jane is reading it as I type), however I am really pleased that the book was so well received. I feel very passionately about Patrick Hamilton and like to do what I can to raise his profile and encourage others to read him. In many ways I think he's one of the perfect BYT novelists in that he so wonderfully and powerfully evokes the era - particularly from the perspective of an ordinary person. I hope this thread will live on past April, and more BYTers feel inspired to read this book, and others too.

And, to further inspire my fellow BYTers...

Here's an article from yesterday's Daily Telegraph....

Patrick Hamilton: A gifted, whisky-loving chronicler of low life

Patrick Hamilton was, in a way, as astute an observer of England as Dickens - and no one has written better about pubs

By Laura Thompson - 20 Apr 2013

Patrick Hamilton, who died of drink in 1962 at the age of 58, was one of the finest novelists of the 20th century. Yet it was as a playwright that he found his greatest success. Rope (1929) and Gaslight (1938) were colossal hits, filmed three times between them, and making Hamilton a rich man by his mid-twenties. This was not entirely a good thing, as it gave him the means to buy limitless amounts of whisky – he could get through a bottle a day – and to pursue the alluring prostitute with whom he had been obsessed in his youth. But then, if Hamilton had led a sensible life, he would not have written the novels that he did.

Now another play, The Duke in Darkness, is being staged for the first time in nearly 70 years at London’s Tabard Theatre: a fascinating prospect. Little is known of the work. It seems to have been well regarded, but its putative public was probably thrown by the fact that it was set during the French religious wars of the 16th century.

This is about as likely as Noël Coward setting a play in Brixton. For Patrick Hamilton’s natural territory was his home turf; in his more oblique way, he was as significant a chronicler of English life as Charles Dickens. His novels – especially his two trilogies, one of which centres on a pub, the other on a psychopathic swindler named Ernest Ralph Gorse – give a picture of London and Brighton between the wars that is beyond black in its comedy, oddly compassionate and unparalleled in atmosphere.

Hamilton’s own origins were middle-class, though financially parlous, and indeed his second wife (neither marriage was particularly fulfilling) was an aristocrat. Nevertheless, he was fascinated by a social milieu beneath his own, on whose edges he constantly teetered and into which he occasionally, almost wilfully, fell. Many of his characters lead a hand-to-mouth existence. Gorse, who is based to an extent on the real-life murderer Neville Heath, lives almost entirely on the savings that he fleeces from a procession of female victims.

The novels are generally regarded as an evocation of low life. For instance, the pub trilogy Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky (dramatised by the BBC in 2005) has at its heart the relationship – highly autobiographical – between a young barman and the prostitute with whom he becomes grimly infatuated. More precisely, however, Hamilton conjures up hopeless aspiration. Gorse, for all his dogged criminality, has an almost pathetic yearning to be viewed as upper-class. He passes himself off as a casually rich ex-Army officer, or as “The Honourable Gerald Claridge”; these personae are the means whereby he deceives his victims, but they also represent what he desperately longs to be.

Then there are the genteel characters who live out their days in boarding houses, such as the Craven House that gives its name to a novel written in 1926, or the Rosamund Tea Rooms – what a name! – in which the magnificent Slaves of Solitude (1947) is set. These grim lodgings are portrayed as de facto prisons, in which people politely squeak out their internal agonies.

The Rosamund Tea Rooms is “this apparent mortuary of desire and passion”, in which meals take place in a “lift-rumbling, knife-fork-and-plate silence”. Presiding over it is Mr Thwaites, a comic creation of unspeakable demonic vigour, a secret admirer of Hitler, who “resounded, nasally and indefatigably, with a steady health and virility”, and who speaks in a relentlessly lunatic idiom that Hamilton may be said to have patented:

“ 'I Keeps my Counsel,’ said Mr Thwaites, in his slow treacly voice. 'Like the Wise Old Owl, I Sits and Keeps my Counsel.’ ”
Hamilton’s greatness is in this sui generis style of his, which synthesises so completely with subject matter that the reader is trapped, squarely and squirmingly, inside the heads of the equally trapped characters. He is repetitive, detailed, obsessional. Lengthy conversations are had over the meaning of the words: “'Oh well…’ 'Oh well what?’ 'Oh, well, one often says ''Oh well’’ – doesn’t one?’ 'Does one?’”

When Bob the barman spends evenings in Soho searching for his prostitute, we traverse with him every street, every manic flicker of hope. Meanwhile, Hamilton watches, ironic and detached. Yet at the same time he is deep inside it all, tracing every separate step towards an endgame that every one of us – character, author, reader – can see coming.

The prose has the painstaking quality of a drunk walking in a straight line, and indeed Hamilton’s love affair with booze – which intensified after a disfiguring road accident in 1932 – suffuses his novels. He inhabits the rhythms of drunkenness, the swaying segue from relaxation to merriment to silliness to melancholia. And no one has written better about pubs. The Midnight Bell, in which Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky is set, represents the sole bright force in the lives of its customers, the terrible yet poignant bores who bathe in its “bottly glitter” and take on the roles of actors in its theatre. Within this pub is played out the most appalling romance in literature, between the barmaid Ella and her “elderly” suitor, the well-to-do Mr Eccles, whom she knows she ought to marry but can scarcely look in the eye.

Hamilton has had some illustrious fans, Doris Lessing and more recently Nick Hornby among them. Some, however, find his fatalistic bleakness overwhelming – Hangover Square (1941) is undeniably one of the most depressing books ever written – and Hamilton’s own publisher took against the relentless, near-sociopathic loathing for almost every character in the Gorse trilogy. In fact those books, written in the Fifties, were ahead of their day. Now it is time to acknowledge a novelistic genius.

The Duke in Darkness, Tabard Theatre, Chiswick, London W4; until May 11

Joanne wrote: "I've just laughed out loud at Mr Thwaites speaking in his Troth language 'So at the Hour of Noon thou visiteth the Man of Many Medicines - dost thou?'"

Hi Joanne, I just noticed your rating....

Apr 13, 2013
4 of 5 stars
Read from April 06 to 13, 2013

What did you think of it?

Nigeby - I loved it. It was far funnier than I'd expected it to be and I thought the ending resolved everything very satisfactorily. It was my first Patrick Hamilton and I think I'm going to make Hangover Square my next one.

I am also planning to read Hangover Square - so many great books, so little time! I need a full time job reading...

Hangover Square is a more sombre, downbeat read, however - for me - a masterpiece. Please both post a review after you've finished. Or some thoughts on here.

Joanne wrote: "Nigeby - I loved it. It was far funnier than I'd expected it to be and I thought the ending resolved everything very satisfactorily. "

Great news Joanne. It sounds as though everyone who read it got a lot out of it. Well today is the last day of the month. Next up it's "A Month In The Country" which should also be a great discussion too.

As mentioned already, it may only have been Val, Susan, Joanne, and me that have made any comments (so far) however I am really pleased that the book was so well received.

I feel very passionately about Patrick Hamilton and like to do what I can to raise his profile and encourage others to read him. In many ways I think he's one of the perfect BYT novelists in that he so wonderfully and powerfully evokes the era - particularly from the perspective of an ordinary person.

I hope this thread will live on past April, and more BYTers feel inspired to read this book, and others too.

Nigeyb wrote: "... Jane is reading it as I type..."

Indeed I was and now I have finished and I have a review in draft.

And I have a few thoughts in response to those questions.

To what extent do you view the book as a comedy?

I don’t view the book as a comedy, but I view Patrick Hamilton as an author who knew when to use a light touch, when to make a wry observation to balance the darker elements of his story.

How does the book explore the nature of war?

He caught the aspects of war that were less written about – the shadow cast over lives at home, day to day privations – and that made a very effective backdrop for the battle of the tea room.

How much sympathy did you feel for Mr. Thwaites? How much did you like him (despite his conduct)?

I regarded Mr Thwaites as a spoilt, attention-seeking child who had never really grown up. And I wished that at some point in his life someone had challenged him on his attitudes, because he wasn’t a fool by any means.

What do you like about Patrick Hamilton's writing?

Pretty much everything worked, but I’d pick out observation, dialogue and characterisation.

What was your favourite Mr Thwaites' quotation (or quotations)?

I couldn’t pick one but his trothing was lovely. And I thought what a fabulous part his would be for an actor.

There was much –particularly the small number of settings the characters moved between and the number of entrances and exits they made – that made me wonder if Hamilton has intended the Slaves of Solitude to be dramatized.

What role does Mr Prest play in the story?

I’m tempted to say Switzerland. Mr Prest provided an objective view, a chance to step back from the tea room warfare for a moment to take stock, and maybe the suggestion that everyone was responsible for their own life.

How do you account for Hamilton's relative obscurity?

All I can suggest is that in the years after the war there was a lack of demand – or maybe a perceived lack of demand – for stories of those on the home front who were less affected by the war than many.

Where does Hamilton fit when compared with other contemporary English writers?

I don’t find him easy to place, but I thought of Beryl Bainbridge and of Molly Keane.

Thanks Jane. Interesting, thoughtful and insightful answers to the questions. I really enjoyed reading them. I'll keep an eye out for your review.

Hamilton's opening description of the city of smoke reminds one of scenes in Fritz Lang's Metropolis.

Now that's a film I haven't seen in eons.

Thanks Tia. I will reread that section with Metropolis in mind.

By the way I have only just remembered to mention that I set up a group on GoodReads where Patrick Hamilton readers can join together "to discuss the life and work of the English writer Patrick Hamilton".

Click here for more information and/or to join The Patrick Hamilton Appreciation Society.

Hi everyone, finally got round to reading this book and I'm so glad I have. I loved everything about it, the characterisation, the setting, the dialogue, the writing, the dark humour, I could go on and on. I think he did a great job with making characters that seem so complex, very simple at the end. Plus, it has one of the best opening passages of a book I have ever read:

“London, the crouching monster, like every other monster has to breathe, and breathe it does in its own obscure, malignant way. Its vital oxygen is composed of suburban working men and women of all kinds, who every morning are sucked up through an infinitely complicated respiratory apparatus of trains and termini into the mighty congested lungs, held there for a number of hours, and then, in the evening, exhaled violently through the same channels.”

This was my first Patrick Hamilton book but I am eager now to read everything and anything he has ever written. Going to attempt Hangover Square next. Nigeyb, can you recommend anything else?

Elizabeth wrote: "This was my first Patrick Hamilton book but I am eager now to read everything and anything he has ever written. Going to attempt Hangover Square next. Nigeyb, can you recommend anything else? "

Thanks Elizabeth. Hangover Square is, along with "Slaves Of Solitude" generally regarded as his masterpiece. I was thinking of nominating it for BYT in September. What do you think? We've had a great debate for "Slaves Of Solitude so that augers well. I should point out it's a much darker book and there's very little humour, however it is also an engrossing and gripping read.

As for other recommendations, I recently read Craven House which I really enjoyed. I have only seen the BBC TV adaptation of Twenty Thousand Streets Under The Sky (actually three books in one volume) and that was brilliant. I hope to read it very soon.

The other books by Patrick Hamilton that I have read and enjoyed are The Gorse Trilogy: The West Pier, Mr Stimpson And Mr Gorse, Unknown Assailant. These were books written by Patrick Hamilton in the 1950s. I really enjoyed the first two. Lots of period detail and humour.

Thanks Nigeyb, I'll take a look at them!

Elizabeth wrote: "Thanks Nigeyb, I'll take a look at them!"

My pleasure. I will definitely nominate Hangover Square for our September 2013 read. At some stage I'm still hoping to get BYT to read The Lost Estate (Le Grand Meaulnes) by Alain-Fournier. I withdrew it for August as I felt Sword of Honour by Evelyn Waugh would be a suitably weighty Summer read.

So many wonderful books from the BYT era and so little time.

Excellent! I'll second it!