The Patrick Hamilton Appreciation Society discussion

We already have a discussion thread about Twenty Thousand Streets Under The Sky (the Trilogy - *click here to read it* - however for those who prefer to work their way through the trilogy one at a time, here is the second book The Siege of Pleasure (1932) which follows on from The Midnight Bell (1929) which was our October 2013 discussion book.

I have set this up as a group read for November 2013.

It would be great to see some of us getting involved in a discussion about this book. Of course you can add to the thread at any time, so if November 2013 is not convenient, or you have already read it and want to comment, please dive in.

I'm underway with The Siege of Pleasure now - and a couple of chapters in. I saw a BBC4 television adaptation - which I really liked - so am familiar with the story.

The Siege of Pleasure is the second book of the Twenty Thousand Streets Under The Sky trilogy - the other two are the first one, The Midnight Bell (1929), and the final part, The Plains of Cement (1934).

After a little break away from Patrick Hamilton, it feels wonderful to be back in the hands of the master. There's some perfect descriptions of Jenny's background and character, her relationship with Tom, her feelings about Bella and Marion, and so many small details, and perceptive phrases and idioms.

It's interesting knowing how Jenny's tale ends up, to read about her drift into prostitution. Patrick Hamilton already dropping in a few hints about her personality, that signpost how she was always likely to get bored with a life in service.

There's one interesting small detail about Jenny's apparently slightly contentious use of cosmetics whilst working. The use of make up for domestic staff was clearly a matter of comment in 1932. The old and traditional Bella and Marion noting to each other that "they all do it these days" with a strong hint of disapproval. Whilst from Jenny's perspective, "it was necessary, sooner or later, to break them in to the fact that she did make up. She saw no sin in the use of cosmetics, and she doubted whether they did."

Finished. Here's my review...

The Siege of Pleasure (1932) is the second book of the Twenty Thousand Streets Under The Sky trilogy - the other two are the first one, The Midnight Bell (1929), and the final part, The Plains of Cement (1934).

In The Midnight Bell (1929), Patrick Hamilton’s protagonist Bob, the waiter at a Euston pub called The Midnight Bell, has saved £80 (worth several thousands of pounds in today's money) in the bank through prudence and maximising his tips. Following a chance encounter with Jenny, a prostitute, and with whom he becomes obsessed, and believing he can change her, he becomes ever more reckless and desperate until he has spent all his savings on her. So, at the start of The Siege of Pleasure, we already know how Jenny's tale ends up. The Siege of Pleasure is essentially a prequel to The Midnight Bell and the story describes her drift into prostitution.

In common with Bob, Jenny is the architect of her own downfall. Patrick Hamilton again allows his characters moments of reflection and self-insight during which there are ample opportunities to escape their downward trajectory. It's a clever technique that had me hoping first Bob, and then Jenny, might escape. Like The Midnight Bell, The Siege of Pleasure is superb at bringing the era to life via numerous little details. In this novel, Patrick Hamilton wonderfully describes the household where Jenny gets a job as a live in maid and housekeeper. The two older sisters, Bella and Marion, who employ her, are fabulous creations.

One of the novel's longest scenes takes place over a night out in a pub in Hammersmith. Needless to say, Patrick Hamilton nails both the pub's atmosphere, and the way the evening evolves as two women and two men, first meet and get to know each other as inebriation takes hold and inhibitions melt away. Jenny's descent in drunkenness is one of the best descriptions of getting drunk I have ever read.

Patrick Hamilton also works in an incident of drunk driving - this following his own horrific accident at the hands of a drunk driver. In 1932, whilst walking with his sister and wife in London, Patrick Hamilton was struck by a drunk driver and dragged through the street. His injuries were devastating. After a three-month hospital stay, multiple surgeries (the accident ripped off his nose and left one arm mangled), and a period of convalescence, Hamilton suffered physical and emotional scars that would continue with him for the rest of his life. Some claim this contributed to his alcoholism. It certainly badly affected his self-esteem and he became very self conscious about the visible scars and loss of mobility. (His second play, To The Public Danger, commissioned by the BBC as part of a road safety campaign, was also an account of the carnage caused by drink driving).

So, this is yet another stunning book by Patrick Hamilton, that works as a stand alone novel (or perhaps novella given it's only about 120 pages long), and also one that enriches the Twenty Thousand Streets Under The Sky trilogy. I look forward to the final instalment. 4/5

I have been puzzling over the title. I wonder if The Siege of Pleasure is part of a quotation from an earlier writer...or perhaps a play on words that I’m missing? It’s not like the Siege of Troy, since it’s surely pleasure that is doing the besieging. The Siege of Temperance would be more like it. No matter. Just curious.

Anyway, as anticipated, another fine book – at least once the Chingfords were abandoned and Jenny got out and onto the streets. To me, the description of the Chingford household read like an affected piece of Victorian whimsy, with phrases such as the “innumerable clinking testimonies to fervid industry”...a rather irritating style I wasn’t expecting from Patrick Hamilton, even with his tongue in his cheek. But perhaps it was meant to underline the change from Jenny the old-fashioned serving maid to Jenny the gold-digger of 1932.

The fall from grace is effective, but I have rarely come across a novelist putting down one of his own characters so brutally – “Her ignorance, her shallowness, her scheming self-absorption, her vanity, her callousness, her unscrupulousness...were merely waiting...in the realms of respectability to be plunged down into the realms where they rightly belonged”. Take that, Lily.

Good ending too.

This time, the odd drink is port. I suppose it was the nearest you could get to a drinkable glass of wine in most British pubs at the time – and probably up until the 1960s – but I’m surprised it was ports all round.

And on a musical point (though not Glam Rock, I’m afraid), I wonder if Mr Perry’s yodelling was a reference to a contemporary craze. Yodelling reached that status in the USA after Jimmie Rodgers’ “Blue Yodel” became a hit in 1928, but I don’t know if it became an equal craze in Britain. Harry Torrani – “the Yodelling Cowboy from Chesterfield” – was apparently the greatest UK exponent. Surprising what strange things you can find on the internet...

Peter wrote: I have been puzzling over the title. I wonder if The Siege of Pleasure is part of a quotation from an earlier writer...or perhaps a play on words that I’m missing? It’s not like the Siege of Troy, since it’s surely pleasure that is doing the besieging. The Siege of Temperance would be more like it. No matter. Just curious.

It is indeed pleasure that is doing the besieging and therefore, although I'd not really thought about it, the title is illogical. Sounds good though. Funnily enough the concept of a "siege" continues into the third book The Plains of Cement (which I finished last night) with a character called Mr Eccles laying siege to Ella, the The Midnight Bell pub's barmaid.

Peter wrote: To me, the description of the Chingford household read like an affected piece of Victorian whimsy

I thought Patrick Hamilton was trying to evoke the mood of the house by switching into this style.

Peter wrote: another fine book – at least once the Chingfords were abandoned

I thought the Chingfords story played a credible role in the overall story. The predicament of the three old people in the house, who are trying to deal with the, then contemporary, "servant problem", and who are convincingly depicted as vulnerable, and fearing the ongoing onset of senility, bring Jenny's tale into greater focus. Jenny, displacing their slovenly charwoman, appears to them, at first, to be "a treasure". Jenny's transformation from demure servant, who cannot do enough to please, to selfish drunkard, is given greater power by the inaccurate impression she creates when she first arrives at their house.

Peter wrote: perhaps it was meant to underline the change from Jenny the old-fashioned serving maid to Jenny the gold-digger of 1932.

I think it was.

Gold digger or opportunist? "Gold digger" suggests to me a bit more cunning than Jenny displays.

Peter wrote: I have rarely come across a novelist putting down one of his own characters so brutally – “Her ignorance, her shallowness, her scheming self-absorption, her vanity, her callousness, her unscrupulousness...were merely waiting...in the realms of respectability to be plunged down into the realms where they rightly belonged”.

Yes, I agree. Though Patrick Hamilton is even more brutal to Netta Longdon in Hangover Square.

Peter wrote: Good ending too.

Very good. And, of course, the penultimate section, takes us back to the Chingfords, left without their "treasure" to contemplate their predicament and their mortality, using the chilling phrase "their long-drawn-out sorrow and helplessness".

Peter wrote: This time, the odd drink is port. I suppose it was the nearest you could get to a drinkable glass of wine in most British pubs at the time – and probably up until the 1960s – but I’m surprised it was ports all round.

A pretty common drink of the time, or so I believe. I agree that the idea is odd from the perspective of our time. I do like Port though, but having it in a pub would feel very odd. Still, perhaps no stranger than Campari or Martini which were popular when I was a kid in the 1970s, and which now seem equally weird to me.

Peter wrote: And on a musical point (though not Glam Rock, I’m afraid)...

:-))

Peter wrote: ...I wonder if Mr Perry’s yodelling was a reference to a contemporary craze. Yodelling reached that status in the USA after Jimmie Rodgers’ “Blue Yodel” became a hit in 1928, but I don’t know if it became an equal craze in Britain. Harry Torrani – “the Yodelling Cowboy from Chesterfield” – was apparently the greatest UK exponent. Surprising what strange things you can find on the internet...

You've got me there. A quick web search for "British yodelling craze" did reveal this nugget in Wikipedia...British stage performances by yodelers were common in the nineteenth century. Sir Walter Scott wrote in his June 4, 1830, journal entry that "Anne wants me to go hear the Tyrolese Minstrels but...I cannot but think their yodeling...is a variation upon the tones of a jackass."

Peter wrote: as anticipated, another fine book

As I mention, I have just finished The Plains of Cement, and will post a few thoughts on the dedicated thread. Suffice it to say, for now, I think the Twenty Thousand Streets Under The Sky trilogy is an amazing achievement.

A stranger just mentioned to me that Bitter Harvest (a 1963 film starring Janet Munro) was loosely based on The Siege of Pleasure. Has anyone seen it? If so, any good?

Available for free via Youtube here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Q7VU...

Rotten Tomatoes says Bitter Harvest is based on Patrick Hamilton's The Street Has A Thousand Skies - which, of course, became such a big hit for Bobby Vee. I remember the song, but not the film. Is it any good? Well, Janet Munro was voted Miss Television of 1958. Need I say more...

Is The Street Has A Thousand Skies an alternative title for The Siege of Pleasure? Perhaps an American title?

I've never seen the film Doug but, like you, would be curious about its merits

Peter wrote: "Rotten Tomatoes says Bitter Harvest is based on Patrick Hamilton's The Street Has A Thousand Skies - which, of course, became such a big hit for Bobby Vee. I remember the song, but not the film. Is..."

Very well played, sir, very well indeed.

Thanks for the tip and the link, Doug. Not only have I never seen that film, I’ve never even heard of it. I’ll try and put some time aside to check it out. At a quick glance, it certainly seems to have lurid colour going for it!

Peter wrote: "Rotten Tomatoes says Bitter Harvest is based on Patrick Hamilton's The Street Has A Thousand Skies - which, of course, became such a big hit for Bobby Vee. I remember the song, but not the film. Is..."

Just in case you missed CQM's post over in the Cinema thread, Bitter Harvest is on UK TV tonight on the Talking Pictures channel

1963. Drama. Director: Peter Graham Scott. Stars Alan Badel, Anne Cunningham, Janet Munro & John Stride. A young Welsh girl leaves her home with the intention to seek a glamorous life in London.

I've only watched the opening five minutes of Bitter Harvest so far. It's quite a start. Though not a scene I recall from the book.

I've finally finished watching Bitter Harvest.




Much has been changed from the book however Bob, Ella, Jenny, and Mr Eccles all appear. The film opens with Jenny freaking out in her Mews flat before taking an overdose and - as we discover at the film's finale - killing herself.

We then rewind back to discover what transpired before. Jenny is working in a small shop where she gets convinced, by a smooth talking opportunistic passing stranger, to leave her small Welsh mining village for a night of debauchery in Cardiff and then London (unclear how they cover the distance in what appears to be a few hours).

The next day Jenny is stood up by the bloke who took advantage of her. The meeting point is the (unnamed) Midnight Bell. However Jenny meets Bob in the pub, ends up living with him, and pretends she is pregnant.

Bob offers to marry her and this is on the cards for sometime but, once again, the bright lights lure her and ultimately she disappears out of Bob's life. Bob's distraught and is seen getting drunk at the bar of the Midnight Bell. Ella tells Bob that Mr Eccles has asked her to marry him. A bitter Bob recommends she does it just to get at his money. Ella looks appalled.

Once Jenny has ditched Bob we return to the film's opening scene, albeit the morning after with the police in the flat.

The viewer is left to fill in the gaps. Jenny has subsequently pursued a life as a high class prostitute and, in a moment of drunken self disgust, killed herself.

In a somewhat bizarre ending, Bob and Ella, running across the road hand in hand and apparently a happy couple, nearly get hit by the self same ambulance which is transporting Jenny's corpse to the morgue.

I'd give it 3/10 - but I did enjoy some great London early 60s period location scenes and the traces of the original novel.


Jenny arriving back at her flat in the opening scene. Freak out and flat trashing follows shortly after this moment.