Margaret G

Margaret G

Margaret was born on 12th June 1924.

She is being interviewed by Loveday Herridge.


Loveday Herridge:  So that you said you do library lists.

Margaret G:  Yes they come every month … people that can’t get to the library and so I gave them a list every month about 16.

LH:  And do you keep copies of those then?

MG:  Yes I’ve got a book down there with lists in.  I don’t put them in a book until I’ve read them and enjoyed them.

LH:  Oh.  [Laughs.]  I must do the formal bit first.

MG:  Yes.

LH:  Which is to say it’s the 31 October um and you … very kindly agreed to be interviewed and it’s Margaret … I think?

MG:  Yes, Margaret.

LH: And when were you born, Margaret, may I ask?

MG:  12 June 1924.

LH:  Right … my name’s Loveday Herridge and erm that’s all we have to say for the formalities … so we’ll just go back to what we were talking about – so the books you read now, mm, you make a list every month.

MG:  Yes.

LH:  About 16 books but you only keep a record of the ones you like.

MG:  Yes.

LH:  Right.  The thing is what were interested in – how is it you’ve got to the point where you can say what you like.  What is it that’s made you interested in the books you read.  So I want to take you right back to when you were little and ask you if you can remember learning to read?

MG:  No, I can’t remember but I can remember my parents read to me every night and my father used to draw us pictures of the stories and … we were always well supplied with books.

LH:  Ah.

MG:  Yes.

LH:  Do you know where those books came from?

MG:  Some were presents and some they bought.

LH:  Mm …  did your parents live in Sheffield?

MG:  Yes.

LH:  And can you tell me where?

MG:  Down at Walkley not far away.

LH:  Right, and what did your mum and dad do? What was their work?

MG:  My mother didn’t work.

LH:  Did she work before she was married?

MG:  Yes, worked before she was married, yes.

LH:  Do you know what she did?

MG:  Yes, Williams down the Moor and she progressed to the fur department.  She was doing that before she got married.

LH:  Was Williams the department store?

MG:  Yes, down the Moor and they all got bombed during the war … yes.

LH:  And your dad – what did he do?

MG:  He was a clerk at the Town Hall.  He did all the salaries for the teachers.  All by hand.  He had a beautiful hand, yes.

LH:  And did they read, your mother and father.  Do you recall them reading?

MG:  I don’t know. I presume so.  They had a newspaper.  Mm, Mother liked reading especially.  She lived till ‘97 so she liked reading and … she liked reading what she called a nice murder.  [Laughter] Oh, we often laughed – my sister and I often laughed.  We’d say, ‘Oh, that was a nice murder.  Mum would have liked that … on television ‘cos they were more gentle then, weren’t they?’

LH:  I suppose they were.

MG:  She liked, er, probably Sherlock Holmes.  I don’t know, I can’t really remember all the ones she liked but she liked books.  My sister used to fetch books for her.

LH:  From?

MG:  The library.

LH:  The library – you used the library, did you?

MG:  Yes.

LH:  Which library branch did you go to?

MG:  She went to – well, I did then before I was married – Walkley.

LH:  Right, right.

MG:  I went to Broomhill after I was married.  Took the children, of course.  Then the bus started coming on here twice a week.

LH:  So to go back to when you were a child, mm, you say you can’t really remember learning to read.

MG:  No, I can’t. [Indignantly]

LH:  Do you think your mother taught you or do you think you learnt at school … ?  Do you … ?  Was your sister older or younger than you?

MG:  Sister’s younger.

LH:  Ah.

MG:  Seven years.

LH:  Right so perhaps you learnt to read at school?

MG:  Probably yes.

LH:  Which school did you go to?

MG:  I went to Bolehill and then I went up to Western Road and then I went to Marlcliffe at Middlewood.

LH:  And how old were you when you left school?

MG:  15, I think. 15, yes.

LH:  So, mm, books – reading.  You said your father read to you.

MG:  Yes, they both read to me.

LH:  They both read to you.  When did they read to you?

MG:  Bedtime.

LH:  Bedtime – could you always expect a story?

MG:  Yes, it was part of going to bed.

LH:  You don’t remember any of those books that were read or read to you?

MG:  Peter Pan, mm, and we did have the Enid Blyton ones – they were little books, weren’t they? Little paper ones.  And, er, I think we had Tiny Tots, … and you sort of progressed then –  and then of course when we went to the library, … we went when we were older, to be able to cross the roads and things. We read the Chalet School stories and things like that, Angela Brazil.

LH:  Do you remember, when you went to the library, did you find your way to the bookshelves yourselves or did the librarians help you?

MG:  There was a children’s section.

LH:  Yes.

MG:  Yes, adults was in one room and the children’s was in a smaller room.

LH:  So how do you think you chose the books when you were a child … in the library?

MG:  I suppose we’d look at them and then choose them from looking at them … yes, same as we do today I suppose.  If we get a good author I tend to go through the lot.  I’ve got all the Dick Francis books up there.

LH:  Have you?

MG:  Yes.  Yes, I could read them again and again … and again.

LH:  So well …

MG:  Yes, if you like a particular writer, then yes.

LH:  So you got your books from the library and you got presents – did you get them for birthdays and Christmas from relatives?

MG:  Yes … lots aunties and uncles.

LH:  What about school?  Did they encourage they you to read at school?

MG:  Now I can’t remember all that, no.  [Firmly]  I presume they did but course [sic] it was different then, you see, wasn’t it?  A long time ago when I was at school in the ‘20s and ‘30s.

LH:  How do you see it as different? Did they … Do you remember having a … Was there a library at school?

MG:  I can’t remember that, no.

LH:  When you got to know there was a subject called English, did they encourage you to read books?

[Both talking at once – inaudible]

MG:  I presume… so I can’t really say.  That would come later probably when I went to Marlcliffe.

LH:  That was a secondary school … at Marlcliffe. Can you remember..?

MG:  …we had all the set subjects there – we went to different classrooms for different teachers.

LH:  Were you encouraged to read there?

MG:  Yes, yes.

LH:  Are there any books that stand out for you when you were a young teenager?

MG:  No, not really, you know.  I s’pose we were still reading … I was young – very young until I was 19.  We weren’t like they are today.  I wasn’t allowed to do things.  I mean the night of the blitz I was going to a dance – no way was I was going to go.  My parents said no and that was it.  You see, they said no.  And then [when] I was 19 it was time for me to get my call-up papers.  They let me go nursing then because they didn’t know where I was – it was the same city.

LH:  So when you left school did you start work?

MG:  Yes, yes, I worked in various jobs.  I worked for the, um, the Sheffield Transport.  I was very happy there.  I made some very good friends there.  In fact, I found a book – I think it’s that blue one down there – and it said from Hilda and someone else.  Now I remember a Hilda but I can’t remember the boy’s name.  I didn’t think it was her husband’s name as he is now.  Mm, it’s funny that as I have disposed of a lot of books because behind there was another row and I’ve taken all the sewing books out and nobody wants the embroidery books – they don’t do it today.  I rang my daughter in Australia and she said, ‘Mum, I haven’t time to embroider.  It doesn’t grab me like sewing does.’  She likes making things.  She used to make things for the children.  And now the youngest girl is about 15 and she wants her mum to make some of the ‘50s dresses – that must be the fashion.

LH:  Yes, I think you must be right.

MG:  Yes.

LH:  So you started out in work and enjoyed that work.

MG:  Yes, and very busy I’m sure as a young person.

LH:  Do you remember reading at all then?  Or on your evenings perhaps you went out?

MG:  I know we had Woman’s Weekly in the house for a long time.  Mother liked that.

LH:  Do you know where she got that from?

MG:  The newsagent.

LH:  From the newsagent.

MG:  It was probably was delivered with the newspapers.  But it was while I was working that I was introduced to … the author of Rogue … Is it Hugh Walpole?  Rogue Herries?  The other lady that rang me said, ‘That was a bit racy for then.’


LH:  So do you think it was?

MG:  Yes, I had one bought me so I’ve read quite a few.  I think I’ve still got one or two but I’ve not read them recently.

LH:  So when you say you were introduced to them, how would you …

MG:  I was given them as a present.

LH:  By … ?

MG:  A friend … friend at work …  That’s the middle years after leaving school and going nursing.  That would be then … Because when I was nursing there was no time – only for nursing books.

LH:  No, yes, you’re quite right …  We must pin that down … the Hugh Walpole – that would be between the ages of 15 and 19.

MG:  Yes.

LH: … that you were introduced to Hugh Walpole… and was it an older person who gave you that book?

MG:  Not much.  No, she wasn’t much older.  She was a bit older.  She said, ‘I enjoyed this.  You might enjoy it … was, it that kind of …  Yes, she gave it me as a birthday present.

LH:  Yes, and had she bought it new for you?

MG:  Yes, it was a new book.

LH:  And where would you guess she would have bought a book from?

MG:  The booksellers.

LH:  And that would be … Which?  Where?

MG:  I wouldn’t know where in town now.  I mean it was quite an outing when we went to town before we were working.  Different then when we went to work …  And … I remember the night of the blitz; I went to work the next day.  I walked all the way.  Course when you saw the mess, I just walked all the way back because there was nowhere to go to work.  I remember that.

LH:  That must have been an amazing day.

MG:  It was … it’s … that again it’s such a long time ago but when you see it on the television  it brought it  all back you keep seeing various things. I remember my father never talking about the Great War. I think he went with the Yorkshire Lancs from Sheffield and I think it might be called PALS you know they tended to go from each town … groups of them, who either worked together or knew each other but I don’t know any more than that.

LH: What was your father’s name?

MG: Ernest Styring.

LH: Styring ?

MG:  S T Y R I N G

LH: So the blitz in Sheffield was ’44?

MG: I’m not quite sure.

LH: ‘43 or ‘44 so you would be … 20?

MG: 20 then yes but it was before I went nursing so I would have been 19 then when I went nursing.

LH: Right … where did you go for your nursing?

MG:  The Children’s.

LH: Did you … that must have felt extraordinary to be called up to do such important work.

MG: We had candles lit there was a lift and stairs. Every corner on the staircase by the lift there were candles … isn’t it funny what you remember?

LH: You began your training there and as you say your reading then would have been studying.

MG: Studying for nursing yes – because you had to go for your lectures in your free time for that day so you didn’t get any time off for going to lectures but we enjoyed it. My sister was a nurse and we used to have what you called State Enrolled Nurses and they’re missing.

[passage cut at Margaret’s request]

LH: So how long did you stay in nursing?

MG: I did 3 or 4 years and then I went into private nursing … children’s nursing.

LH: Did that mean going into people’s houses and looking after the children?

MG: I went down South first and I think there were three children and they left me at home with the youngest … yes the youngest boy and the doctors came and took his tonsils out at home! And I had to nurse him at home. Now isn’t that taking advantage? And I didn’t get anything more in my pay packet. [Indignant]

LH: That’s dreadful isn’t it? What a responsibility!

MG: Yes it was.

LH: So you did this work with children … ?

MG: Yes I did. I came back to Sheffield and [long pause] I must have gone back to the Children’s because I was looking after a baby on nights and there was only the father that came on his way home from work. The mother couldn’t come because she’d four other children and I think they got whooping cough and they asked me if I’d go and look after the children afterwards and I was with them till I got married.

LH: Which was … which year?

MG: I got married in ’53.

LH: ‘53 so I’m thinking you were very busy between …

MG: Then I read to them.

LH: You read to …?

MG: To the children … you don’t have time in hospital.

LH: And then you married, … and then were busy again I’m sure but here’s an amazing list of books and I’m wondering when it was that you were able to …. develop your affection for these …

MG: I read a lot of Elizabeth Gouge first … perhaps read those first … I’d come onto the Dick Francis later.

LH: Why did you like Elizabeth Gouge do you think?

MG: I love her books – I’ve just been reading them all again … and, … the libraries have managed to get some … I’ve got one or two myself and I got Green Dolphin Country and it’s so long I didn’t remember much and it all came back fresh.

LH: Do you know how you started … how you began with Elizabeth Goudge how did you start with her did somebody recommend her to you?

MG: I read Herb of Grace first.

LH: Did someone recommend her to you?

MG: No idea once I got into her… I liked even the children’s books she wrote.

LH: So were you reading those at the end of your working day?

MG: Probably yes … my husband would probably sit in one place and I’d be in another and we might talk all evening … you know.

LH: I’m very conscious that women are very busy people on the whole.

MG: Once we’d got the children to bed and I mean we’d only two and I used to knit and sew as well.

LH: So here I’m seeing Elizabeth Goudge and Warwick Deeping.

MG: Now I did read those probably when I was at home.

LH: At home? Before you started work?

MG: Yes I think my parents read those Warwick Deeping books. And they finished them and said, ’You have a look at this’. Well they may not have done they may have said, ‘I enjoyed that would you like to read it? ‘But you don’t really, you just sort of come to these books I think.

LH: Can you remember any of the Warwick ‘cos he wrote masses didn’t he?

MG: He wrote Sorrell and Son.

LH: You don’t remember a favourite?

MG: No not read any for a long time I also read one or two of J B Priestley’s early on but I’ve not read any of those recently?

LH: Did you like Warwick Deeping?

MG: I must have done to read several.

LH: Do you know why? Again I know it’s such a difficult question.

MG: No no, it’s just the enjoyment I think, as I say, if we found a book at the library. Mm, it’s the same now if the library bring me one and I enjoy it.  I always look at the list – keep a list and then pick them out and there’s an author I can’t remember, his name … he’s written a lot about Sheffield and the outlying districts and they’re all murders but – we, my sister and I, have enjoyed them a lot. I mean what I get I often lend them from the library. She gets a lot of tapes and I say well ‘I’m not going to borrow tapes at my time of life’.


MG: I can get them from the library.

LH: So you’re great library users?

MG: Yes and always have been.

LH: … and always have been. Did you encourage your children to use the library?

MG: Yes, we all went together. My husband never read anything non-fiction. Yes, he was a physicist, so he was really more into … he did read autobiographies, perhaps, but not many.

LH: He didn’t like novels?

MG: Oh no! No novels!

LH: So I’m seeing on this list … A J Cronin up there on your list. Do you remember anything of his you enjoyed? [Reaches for book]

MG: That’s it, yes. Shannon’s Way this is. Yes, this is the one. It says ‘To Margaret, Happy Christmas from Gladys and Dick’. Also you see, there’s a ‘1950’ in there and there’s ‘a pound’ on it. But I don’t think it’s one I bought. Unless I’ve had it … But I don’t really remember it. I mean these were quite famous, weren’t they, Hatter’s Castle and The Citadel  and Keys of the Kingdom? But I don’t really remember them. I’ve just read this again and quite enjoyed it.

LH: And here’s Mary Stewart as well.

MG: Oh, I like her. I’m reading all those again at the moment. I’ve got some, I’ve got quite a few on there. And my favourite was Touch not the Cat. Yes, I’ve got quite a few of hers there.

LH: And then we’ve got Lilian Harry. Now, I don’t think I know Lilian Harry.

MG: Yes, she’s … I’ve not read an awful lot of hers recently. Who’s the one who wrote about a penny to cross the Mersey? Was it her or someone else?

LH: I don’t know.

MG: She wrote a lot about Liverpool. I think she married again and treated her daughter very badly and I think this is, you know, she’s going back to those days.

LH: And Alistair MacLean.

MG: Oh yes, I like his. We’re always … there’s one or two on there, but we’re always going back to the old ones.

LH: Yes. Jack Higgins.

MG: Yes. Again there.

LH: And Charlotte Bingham.

MG: Yes. I don’t read so many of hers. There’s one, a book I read, I can’t remember what it was called and someone had a parrot in the window. I thought I’ll go through the Charlotte Bingham and see if I can find it, but I haven’t done yet.

LH: And then you’ve got two more here. Patricia Wentworth.

MG: Yes. She’s an older one isn’t she. She wrote mysteries, yes.

LH: And then James Herriot.

MG: Yes. Patricia Wentworth – she wrote The Chinese Shaw, didn’t she?

LH: I think so, yes.

MG: Yes, well, I’m reading a lot of hers again with … not Miss Silver … yes, it is Miss Silver, and it’s Miss Marple. They’re quite funny really. They’re so old fashioned! They’re quite funny, quite simple stories.

LH: Well, it’s interesting you say that. And also you’ve said that you like reading them again. These are obviously favourites to which you’ve returned over and over again. And they’ve been a constant in your life. Do you ever have a go at any contemporary novels?

MG: Not unless they’ve been given a good write up.

LH: And who do you trust for your write ups?

MG: Well, I read the blurb and then decide. I don’t take it … just pick them up. I do like – I read all Alan Titchmarsh, and I read Gervase … the one who was a school inspector. I don’t know if he was down on the list.

He trained as a teacher I think and then he became a school inspector, and his stories are very, very funny – the things the children say. Especially in the Yorkshire area, because they go and talk about sheep and pigs and they know what every animal is, you know, the breeds and everything, and I think he was quite astounded at first, but after that he just listened to all the funny things they said. Have you read them?

LH: I haven’t, no. Perhaps I should.

MG: You really want to start at the beginning. And there is another one – Teacher, Teacher. Now I think he’s a fairly new author, and of course those are local, and they’re about – he goes to be a headmaster of a local village school. Do you know it’s … I don’t believe schools were like that but I do remember they took the children away to camp and there were no inhibitions. They could … they just went, they had a wonderful time, and they had all the usual things that they do have in villages. And it started with one book, and then it was ‘Mr Teacher’ and ‘Teacher, Teacher’ and I’ve read … the last one I read, it hadn’t come to a conclusion – they hadn’t got married, and my sister and I were both waiting for them to get married, and something always happened, and I think he’ll have written another one since. But the library are very good – if I ask them if they’ve got it in they’ll send it me. I’ve got three upstairs because I get a leaflet every month with books. Oh, I’ve forgotten the name – I do forget things these days – and they sell books cheaply and these were on offer, quite reasonably so, in paperback. I sent my daughter to read, that’s why her parcel was very expensive. And I’ve got three more for another friend up the road who I think’ll enjoy them. And they’ll go all round her daughters, and they sort of … You know what each other likes, you see, but they are very funny. And then, who’s the latest one I’m reading? I thought about it but it’s gone now. It’ll come later.

LH: Well, on here you do mention Ken Follett.

MG: Ooh yes. I like his. Especially – didn’t he write The Magpies?

LH: I don’t know.

MG: I especially like that. And … that was the wartime. You see, I like a lot of the wartime ones. Yes.

LH: Yes. And Dick Francis you’ve got here as well. You told me already. And Robert Goddard.

MG: Yes, now think that Robert Goddard must be the one who writes locally. He … more or less he lives in the Peak District, he lives … the one who’s writing the stories, and they come into Sheffield and the surrounding districts and the murders are usually out in Derbyshire.

LH: Safely away from Sheffield … And then M C Beaton.

MG: Oh yes, they’re funny.

LH: Death of a …  something, with Hamish Macbeth, you’ve written.

MG: Yes, she writes about Hamish Macbeth. I don’t like some of her others that she’s written, but Hamish is always s… again there’s always a little murder.

LH: So you’re really a bit of a murder mystery fan, aren’t you.

MG: Yes, I like … those are the things I like on television too. I pick and choose and I used to love Morse. Yes.

LH: So, it’s interesting ‘cos you’ve got this group …

MG: Sort of a family aren’t they?

LH: And then a second group.

MG: Those are probably on the second page I put what I read more recently.

LH: And so these are what you’ve read …

MG: … from earlier days. Yes.

LH: So, from in your …

MG: Probably I read some of them in my teens. I may have read …

LH: You said you read Warwick Deeping in your teens.

MG: I think I read Herb of Grace. I think I read some of those early on. I know I used to go around the second hand bookshops when we were away, especially if it was a wet day. I picked one or two books up there.

LH: When you were away … ?

MG: Yes. On holiday. Not here – we used to go to Norfolk a lot, and they tended to be a bit of a mixture the shops and they’d have a collection of second hand books. I picked one or two books up there.

LH: Did you read what I suppose we would call, or did you have to read, improving books? Books that were good for you?

MG: Probably didn’t!

LH: You don’t have any recollection of them! Were there any books you hated? Again it would be about having to read things … ?

MG: I don’t think so. I never read Dickens or Shakespeare and that’s something I’ve never wanted to read. I suppose because I didn’t do it at school.

LH: Why do you think you didn’t want to?

MG: Didn’t consider that I was clever enough. No. I’ve never considered than  … I didn’t consider that I’d get through my exams when I nursed, but I did …

LH: But you did.

[There follows an italicised passage which is not relevant to reading.]

MG: You know, my husband always said well, you put yourself down too much. But you see I’ve always been like that. And probably now I’m more independent I probably can stand up for myself a lot more. I don’t take any nonsense from these … I mean, I get people ringing up and they say well, I came and saw you last year and you’ve always wanted doing then, and I’ve said, I’m very sorry but I don’t want anything doing at all. Well, we’ll give you a quote that will last a year. I said, no thank you. And, you know, sometimes you think you’ll have to put the phone down.

LH: But you don’t want to be rude …

MG: We weren’t brought up that way, you see. And that’s still with you, the way you were brought up. I mean, Mother brought us up to help people. You still do, you know, to the limits of your ability, don’t you. I mean, I’ve a lot of friends of my own age, and I mean, there’s one, I can only keep in touch with her by phone or by letter, and she’s got an awfully hard life with her husband. He’s an Altzheimer’s; she can’t see and she has arthritis, and she doesn’t seem to get any help. And when you get these charities writing and they say they do this and they do the other, I wrote to her and sent the leaflet, and said approach them and see if you can get any help. Help the Aged and WVS, and no, nothing’s been forthcoming. But I think with the occupational therapist been going to her husband she’s got more help through her, and I think it was one of the people who come to shower him and she said she’d approach somebody to see if she could have someone to take her out for two hours. Now, she’s got somebody to take her out for two hours once a fortnight and that’s when Bill’s at… you know, they come and take him. But you see, they don’t come till 11 and he’s back at half past three. She’s no time. And you know, like here, he’d be able to go in somewhere for respite, and there’s nothing like that. They live near Edinburgh and it’s in North Berwick, but you see it’s just a little seaside place, and I suppose they haven’t got …

LH: I suppose they haven’t got the same resources.

MG: And she’s hoping she could get him in somewhere for a week but she’d have to pay for him. You’ve got to fill all these long forms in, and so she can’t see to do it, so a neighbour, a very good neighbour who helps her, she says I won’t take any payment, I’ll start now by telling you no, so she filled the form in as far as she could then asked her questions and filled the rest in. It’s very difficult when you can’t see properly. And so she was waiting the results of that. You see, they had money invested hoping to use that money for their retirement, of course; they get virtually nothing now you see for that. They’ve always been very good about being quite careful. It’s very difficult.

LH: Well, I’m sure your phone calls have been very helpful …

MG: Well, this is it. It’s the only way to keep in touch with some people. I’ve a friend who lives up the road, she comes with the books. She says, I see you’re still alive … ! She brings me a few cakes. She’s just had her knee done. It’s given her a new lease of life. She’s gone back to baking again. And her family descend on her when it’s holidays.

MG: But you remain reading all the time!

MG: Oh, no I don’t have much time to read. I read mostly when I go to bed, and in the morning. Make my cup of tea in the morning and I read in bed. I’ve had to cut down one of my magazines ‘cos I can’t read them. I don’t get time to read them. It sounds so stupid doesn’t it? And I’ve only just started to … watching in the afternoon. I watch Titchmarsh, 3 to 4 in the afternoon, and that’s the only daytime television I watch. And if there’s nothing I want to watch at night I don’t put it on. Perhaps I’ll do some ironing at night, or I might read then.]

But I try and save my library books for bed. Try and read them … I read magazines. I have People’s Friend – that’s a very gentle book, very gentle tales. So I read that. But they all get passed on. I pass all my magazines on. I pass my People’s Friend on to my lady that comes to clean.

LH: Have you read People’s Friend for as long as you can remember?

MG: Sometimes it tells you – I know that sometimes these people write in and say that they’ve been reading it, because they’re perhaps in their 90s, and their daughters write in and say their mothers have had it from the beginning and they pick it up. But I haven’t … Mother didn’t have People’s Frien’. It’s Scottish isn’t it? A lot of the articles are from Scotland and the stories.

LH: You’ve also mentioned your cookery books and your craft books.

MG: Yes, I …

LH: When did you start reading those, Mrs Gomer?

MG: I suppose I’ve always had an interest in cookery, ‘cos Mother’s always encouraged us in the kitchen, we always helped.

LH: Did she use recipe books?

MG: It was Delia’s I think. I’ve got quite a lot of hers.

LH: What books did your mother use to cook with, or did she have her own recipes and pass those down to you?

MG: I presume that she … now you see she was one of nine and she was the last one to go. They all lived to their 90s.

[There follows an italicised passage which is not relevant to reading.]

LH: So when you say she helped you learn to cook…

MG: She included me in the kitchen when she was doing things. I mean she let us bake things. I mean I did the same with the children.

LH: Yes, but when were you using recipes …?

MG: Not till I was older, and then when my mother-in-law died, we’d only been married a year, I found a cookbook and I kept that. And my daughter rang and she said, have you still got that recipe for Granny Gomer’s … I’ve forgotten the name. Well, I had to hunt for it but I found the nearest one I could. I went through loads of cookbooks. And she said, oh, yes, I managed, ‘cos Granny Gomer’s was half an egg, ‘cos it was a wartime one you see. I said to Elizabeth, I don’t know how you managed with half an egg! But she’s a great cook. She’s more or less a vegetarian. And the children are, I mean they wrote and asked her for various recipes. Simon, he’s at uni; he cooked for himself. And Holly does, I don’t think Amelia does ‘cos she’s still at school. But they’ve a Down’s Syndrome boy, and she cooks her own bread. And I said, have you got a machine, bread making? And she says, no, I’m the baker here. And she makes her own bread, and her own stuff for pizzas an she encourages the little boy. Well, he’s not so little now. I’ve got some photographs they sent of him starting decorating it, and the picture of his face when he’d finished! He was so pleased with himself. It was lovely. And Robin’s always … Robin cooks every night for the family. He finishes work, he goes swimming, he goes to Waitrose, and it’s ever so funny, some time ago these elderly people, you don’t want to buy those, pay full price, I can show you where they’ve cut the price down, they do it every night you see. And of course as things are now it’s been a great boon to him.

LH: Is that your son?

MG: Yes. They’re in London. Now, I don’t think any of their two have done any. He always cooks breakfast on Sunday, and I can see both of them now standing on chairs stirring the scrambled egg. And of course, the embroidery, I’ve always done embroidery. I can remember I was making a christening dress, embroidering, on the night of the Blitz. I’ve always done embroidery.

LH: And were you using your own stitches or again were you using a book?

MG: Yes, that’s right and I’ve made dresses of course, things for Elizabeth.

LH: Where did you get patterns?

MG: I used to buy transfers, I’ve got boxes upstairs. I try and get rid of things but it’s very difficult.]

And then I’ve got books … there are book clubs you see, and so I’ve joined a lot of book clubs.

LH: What book club did you join? What age were you when you joined a book club?

MG: Oh, it was after I was married and when I was I was wanting to do different things in embroidery.

LH: Was it a subscription club?

MG: Yes, and they send you a booklet and you choose which ones, and you have to buy one a month, something like that. You get so many free at first.

LH: So this would be when you were in your 20s.

MG: Oh no, it was after I was married, so I was 29 when I got married, so I was in my 30s.

[There follows an italicised passage which is not relevant to reading.]

[And then when the children, you see, it would be later still. They were born in the 50s. So but then I made most of Elizabeth’s, and knitted as well. You used to do more things like that. You don’t do things like that today. My daughter-in-law does; she’s made this. But you see, it’s standing her in good stead. My son works in property, and then if they want curtains or blinds making, she can do them. And then she’s got a friend who’s got a baby shop in London, nursery, and she can sell any amount of, with the names on, various things. It’s a different world down there, things are a different price.]

 LH: So you’ve got these two lists and I’ve got a very good picture of the things you like to read.

MG: Most of what I read when I was younger were family books, like I should say, the family. Like, who wrote Horseman Riding By, was it Deldefield?

LH: I’ll have to look that up. When you say family books do you mean there were series …

MG: Yes, there were families … several … that’s what Elizabeth Goudge wrote about, families. And a lot of people would say it was fantasy but it makes good reading, and I’m finding now I’m reading properly, I’m not skipping anything. I probably did that in my younger days. I wanted to get on to see what the ending was, but I’m finding now that I’m reading more or less every word.

LH: That’s interesting isn’t it?

MG: Yes, it is. And the … Elizabeth Goudge … who’s the one … I’ve forgotten her name now, yes, Elizabeth Goudge wrote The Herb of Grace and she also wrote Dean’s Watch. That is fantasy really, because it’s about a town, a small town, and everything circulates around the cathedral and the Dean and various things, and I suppose a lot of it is. But some of them write so descriptive you can feel you’re there. And that’s what I’ve found lately.

LH: But when you say, some people would call it was fantasy, do you mean they would be critical of it because it was fantasy?

MG:  Yes, they would go, well I don’t want to read that. A lot of people do that.

[Bell rings.  Interview ends.]

Recent Posts

Evelyn Waugh, Rationing, and Style: ‘the Period of Soya Beans and Basic English’(Part 2)

Posted on  by Val Hewson

By Chris Hopkins

Here is Part 2 of our literary food blog on Evelyn Waugh, by Chris Hopkins, Emeritus Professor of English at Sheffield Hallam University.

The book is infused with a kind of gluttony … which now with a full stomach I find distasteful.

Evelyn Waugh, Preface to Brideshead Revisited, 1945, Revised Edition, 1959.

In November 1943, having been unwillingly transferred from the Marines to the Royal Horse Guards, and after having tried unsuccessfully to join the SAS, Waugh was sent on a parachuting course, though he was then forty years old. He actually enjoyed very much the sensation of jumping from an aircraft. However, in landing from one jump, he fractured his leg, and was given a period of leave to recover (eventually extended unpaid until June 1944) during which he began a new novel, to be published as Brideshead Revisited in 1945. (1) It is a novel filled with nostalgia and about nostalgia, but by no means without a critical if idiosyncratic theological framework. Even before this, in a diary entry for 29 August 1943, Waugh had written of his now changed feelings about Army life and of his urgent need to return to his work as a writer. It is perhaps particularly significant that he used a metaphor based on wine-production and cellarage to talk about how he saw the relationship between his experience and his writing at this point:

I dislike the Army. I want to get to work again. I do not want any more experiences in life. I have quite enough bottled and carefully laid in the cellar, some still ripening, most ready for drinking, a little beginning to lose its body. I wrote to Frank [Pakenham] very early in the war to say that its chief use would be to cure artists of the illusion that they were men of action.

Evelyn Waugh, Diaries, p. 548; also quoted in Eade, pp. 320-1).
In civilian clothes. Evelyn Waugh in 1940s. By Carl Van Vechten Carl Van Vechten Photographs collection at the Library of Congress). Public domain.

The vintages must be used at the correct time if they are not to spoil. Unlike his novels of the thirties and even his 1942 novel, Put Out More Flags, this new novel is not mainly about the now, about the modern and modish, but was to be a reflection, Proustian in some respects, on the decades of the twenties and thirties, and their relationship to the wartime present, as well as on various specific lives in the light of eternity and ‘divine grace’ (Preface, location 2). Perhaps in terms of the novel’s larger ambitions, its treatments of food and drink are not primary, but they are nevertheless prominent, and a key part of the work’s atmosphere. As Waugh saw, looking back from the perspective of nineteen-fifty-nine, what he and many others experienced as privations of personal pleasure and indeed style influenced the way the novel recalled the recent past. Here are some of Waugh’s reflections in 1959 on the time when he wrote the novel:

It was a bleak period of present privation and threatening disaster – the period of soya beans and Basic English, and in consequence the book is infused with a kind of gluttony for food and wine, for the splendours of the recent past, and for rhetorical and ornamental language, which now with a full stomach I find distasteful. I have modified the grosser passages but have not obliterated them because they are an essential part of the book

Evelyn Waugh, Preface, location 8.

The connections Waugh makes between food and wine and other matters of style is notable. Nineteen forty-four is the period of ‘soya beans’ and of Basic English, both, in Waugh’s view, drastic reductions to full and proper ways of living. The Soy Info Centre’s invaluable time-line on the History of Soya Beans in Britain and Ireland explains that:

During and after World War II soy flour is used extensively as a substitute for meat, milk, eggs and flour in a vast array of foodstuffs … [it] developed the image of a bad-tasting ersatz foodstuff, and the English came to dislike any food with the name ‘soy’ attached to it, in part because of poor product formulations and the use of low-quality soy flour (2).

Basic English was clearly considered by Waugh a linguistic or stylistic equivalent to soya beans, wholly unable to substitute for the real thing. The idea of Basic English was formulated by Charles Kay Ogden in his book, Basic English: a General Introduction with Rules and Grammar (1932). Basic English was not intended to replace English as a natural language, but to be used by speakers of English as a second language, and to make international communication in English clearer and simpler. This second aim was associated during the war with an idea that Basic English could help sustain world peace in a post-war world. Basic English simplified English by reducing the number of words, both verbs and nouns, while retaining a more-or-less ‘natural’ word-order. Ogden argued that most everyday communication could be readily managed with only eighteen verbs and a core vocabulary of two-thousand words. These precepts are still in practical use – notably in the Simple English Wikipedia (3). Orwell based the ‘constructed language’ of Newspeak in Nineteen Eighty-Four (Secker & Warburg, 1949) on Basic English, fearing its potential for restricting not just free speech, but the expression of free meaning. Clearly, Waugh too saw Basic English as an impoverishment of natural English, and a sign of the times.

Brideshead Revisited certainly does use a more purple prose than Waugh had ever used before (except in the way of parody), but as Waugh realised, this was not just an incidental feature, but something deeply embedded in the conception of the novel. Here for example is the nostalgic opening of chapter one of Book One, which follows on from the much more austere Prologue, and which describes Captain Charles Ryder’s unexpected return to Brideshead when the Army sends his unit there:

‘I have been here before’, I said. I had been there before; first with Sebastian more than twenty years ago on a cloudless day in June, when the ditches were cloudy with meadowsweet and the air heavy with all the scents of summer; it was a day of particular splendour, and though I had been there so often, in so many moods, it was to that first visit that my heart returned on this, my latest (location 229). (4)

Strictly-speaking, purple prose is always a critical term, indicating a prose style which is so excessively decorative that it inevitably fails to hold the reader’s attention or to construct a clear meaning. In that sense, Waugh’s prose here is not purple, because it surely does work superbly in its context, but it is perhaps nearly as rich and ornamental as you can get before turning purple.

It was Waugh himself who made the connection between rationing, food and style in the novel in his Preface, and indeed there is a richness about the description of food in the novel which is equivalent in many ways to the novel’s love of the nostalgic, emotional and rhetorical charge of the past. Of course, the food recalled was indeed at the time a Remembrance of Things Past. Here is the most elaborate description of food, (French) cooking, and wines in the novel. As a foil to Charles Ryder’s knowledgeable enjoyment of this superb meal in Paris is Rex Mottram, who pays for the meal, but does not at all understand its quality:

I remember the dinner well – soup of oseille [sorrel], a sole quite simply cooked in a white-wine sauce, a caneton à la presse, a lemon soufflé. At the last minute, fearing that the whole thing was too simple for Rex, I added caviar aux blinis. And for wine I let him give me a 1906 Montrachet, then at its prime, and with the duck, a Clos de Bèze of 1904.

I rejoiced in the Burgundy. It seemed a reminder that the world was an older and a better place than Rex knew, that mankind in its long passion, had learned another passion than his (locations 2420 and 2470). (5)

Perhaps one would not want to consume such prose all the time, but given the drabness of wartime rationing (which of course went on into the later nineteen-fifties), this response is not mere gluttony, but a heroic recreation of fine food, of food as art (even if Waugh’s own war was not entirely deprived of some decent food and wines – though I personally suspect that entire bottle each of 1920 Dow’s may have been a mistake, in terms of both style and appreciation of the virtues I imagine it to have possessed).

Read Part 1 here.


Note 1. See Evelyn Waugh: a Life Revisited, by Philip Eade, Weidenfeld & Nicholson, London, 2016, pp. 321- 327 for some of Eade’s account of Waugh’s military career during this period, including a quotation from a letter to Laura Waugh about his enjoyment of parachuting.

Note 2. See History of Soybeans and Soyfoods in the United Kingdom and Ireland (1613-2015) – SoyInfo Center, based on a book of the same title by William Shurtleff and Akiko Ayoyagi (Soy Info Centre, 2015), which can be downloaded in full from the site.

Note 3. Information drawn from the Wikipedia entry on Basic English, which also gives links to Basic English word-lists still in use in various contexts and indeed in the Simple English Wikipedia. See: Basic English – Wikipedia.

Note 4. Some indication of the nature of Waugh’s post-war editing can be seen by comparing the 1945 original of this quotation with the 1959 revision:

‘I have been here before’, I said. I had been there before; first with Sebastian more than twenty years ago on a cloudless day in June, when the ditches were white with fools’ parsley and meadowsweet and the air heavy with all the scents of summer; it was a day of peculiar splendour, such as is given us once or twice in a life-time, when leaf and flower and bird and sun-lit stone and shadow seem all to proclaim the glory of God; and though I had been there so often, in so many moods, it was to that first visit that my heart returned on this, my latest.

(Readers Union with Chapman and Hall unrevised edition, London, 1949, p.15; 1945 editions are not that easy to obtain, being quite collectable; I have underlined textual differences between the 1945 and 1959 versions here, and again in Note 5).

Note 5. In the 1945 version, the first quoted paragraph is identical, but the second had a considerable expansion which spoke of the impossibility of describing a fine wine in its own terms, and saw all such accounts as influenced by the describer’s own emotions:

I rejoiced in the Burgundy. How can I describe it? The Pathetic Fallacy resounds in all our praise of wine. For centuries every language has been strained to define its beauty, and has produced only wild conceits or the stock epithets of the trade. This Burgundy seemed to me then, serene and triumphant, a reminder that the world was an older and a better place than Rex knew, that mankind in its long passion, had learned another passion than his (p. 135).

A concise overview of the textual complexities of Brideshead Revisited across its manuscripts and editions is given in Robert Murray Davis’ ‘Notes Towards a Variorum Edition of Brideshead Revisited’, in the Evelyn Waugh Newsletter, vol. 2, part 3, p.4 (12/1/1968).

  1. Evelyn Waugh, Rationing, and Style: ‘My Last Case of Claret’ (Part 1) Leave a reply
  2. Wodehouse Serves Up A Feast 2 Replies
  3. Pineapple Chunks and Sardines 2 Replies
  4. The Centenary Dinner of the Sheffield Book Society Leave a reply
  5. George Orwell’s Frankfurter: an Early British Fast Food Experience (1939) Leave a reply
  6. The Family Friend or Housekeeper’s Instructor Leave a reply
  7. Reading the Recipes 1 Reply
  8. Fresh from a WW1 Field Kitchen: a Palatable Recipe from Erich Maria Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front (1928) Leave a reply
  9. The Recipe Books of the Countesses of Arundel and Kent Leave a reply