To Metro-Land and Beyond
Oct. 30th, 2024 08:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
qatsiBook Review: Betjeman's England, by John Betjeman (edited by Stephen Games)
In some ways this is a companion piece to Trains and Buttered Toast; following on from that collection of radio talks, these are transcripts (or writings relating to) some of his TV programmes from 1949 through to the 1970s.
What comes over particularly well, I think, is Betjeman's good cheer, even when he's not all that taken with something. I suppose he was angry about the Euston Arch and the threat to St Pancras (neither of which feature here), but here modernity is tolerated with mostly amused resignation; I suppose the medium of television lends itself to people-watching as much as expounding about architecture. It seems particularly ironic (and in equal measure foresighted) that he grumbles about Beeching closures and the implacable advance of the motor car, when a number of the programmes were sponsored by Shell and National Benzole.
The title of the book, whilst not exactly misleading, hides the fact that the map view shows that the chosen pieces fall largely south of a line from the Severn to the Wash, with only a handful of places around Manchester and Yorkshire in the North. Additionally, Betjeman visits Glamorgan, Jersey, and the Isle of Man, and there's a passage from Panorama of him being interviewed by Malcolm Muggeridge about plans for an underground car park near Edinburgh Castle, in which he also discusses the traffic problems of Oxford - it's not mentioned directly, and perhaps the piece is a little too early, but maybe he was thinking of the infamous scheme to put a road through Christ Church meadow.
The highlight in the book for me is Metro-Land, and it prompted me to dig out the DVD for a re-watch. It's interesting to compare the written and spoken versions: in the introduction Games makes a point on the difficulty of deciding when to use prose and when to use blank verse. Inevitably one hears Betjeman's voice while reading, so it's always lyrical, but the verse sections become more regimented on the page, in a way that is not so clear on the film.
In some ways this is a companion piece to Trains and Buttered Toast; following on from that collection of radio talks, these are transcripts (or writings relating to) some of his TV programmes from 1949 through to the 1970s.
What comes over particularly well, I think, is Betjeman's good cheer, even when he's not all that taken with something. I suppose he was angry about the Euston Arch and the threat to St Pancras (neither of which feature here), but here modernity is tolerated with mostly amused resignation; I suppose the medium of television lends itself to people-watching as much as expounding about architecture. It seems particularly ironic (and in equal measure foresighted) that he grumbles about Beeching closures and the implacable advance of the motor car, when a number of the programmes were sponsored by Shell and National Benzole.
The title of the book, whilst not exactly misleading, hides the fact that the map view shows that the chosen pieces fall largely south of a line from the Severn to the Wash, with only a handful of places around Manchester and Yorkshire in the North. Additionally, Betjeman visits Glamorgan, Jersey, and the Isle of Man, and there's a passage from Panorama of him being interviewed by Malcolm Muggeridge about plans for an underground car park near Edinburgh Castle, in which he also discusses the traffic problems of Oxford - it's not mentioned directly, and perhaps the piece is a little too early, but maybe he was thinking of the infamous scheme to put a road through Christ Church meadow.
The highlight in the book for me is Metro-Land, and it prompted me to dig out the DVD for a re-watch. It's interesting to compare the written and spoken versions: in the introduction Games makes a point on the difficulty of deciding when to use prose and when to use blank verse. Inevitably one hears Betjeman's voice while reading, so it's always lyrical, but the verse sections become more regimented on the page, in a way that is not so clear on the film.