Thinking about extending my novel into Part Two, since Carol has been wanting to know what happened next, I've been searching for anything that might give me a sense of how it felt to live through the 1950s. Actually I did live through most of that decade but have only have the vaguest memories, childish ones at that, because I was only nine when the 1960s arrived.
I've found a tattered copy of the Penguin edition of Kingsley Amis' Lucky Jim on our shelves. Though I'd have approved then as I'd approve now of any book attacking snobbery and pretentiousness, I'm upset (shocked—I admit it) when I come to the paragraph where the main character overhears his despised boss singing: "some skein of untiring facetiousness by filthy Mozart." To me, Sir Kingsley was going too far with that phrase. I know he was being deliberately shocking for very good reasons, but there's still something wrong and nasty about a person who could think such a thought. Anyway I don't find it funny and find it hard to sympathise either with "Jim" or his creator from this point onwards. These sneerers are all the same, throwing the baby out with the bath water.
The children's story Tom's Midnight Garden (1958) by Philippa Pearce with its wonderful neo-Romantic illustrations by Susan Einzig, is far more congenial to me.
(I hesitated to publish this blog post because it reveals so much about me!)
No comments:
Post a Comment