This is a perfect book group read, and one that few of us would have read had it not been a group choice. Some of our group watched the film, made in 1987, starring Colin Firth being very Colin Firth - it wasn't well liked!
The book though is exquisite. The writing style is accessible and matter of fact. There is a lot to read in every sentence and it is an easy read. The descriptions are beautiful and the humour wonderful. It tells the story of two young men returned from the trenches of WW1 who find specialist work in a small Yorkshire village. The story alludes to many things about the 'war experience' in a subtle and gentle manner, and it doesn't dwell on things.
There is no plot and there is no reason to 'rush' through the 100 pages and yet it is a page turner.
The timing of this read gave us the opportunity to reflect on our own experience of 'lock-down' in a small village. We are in a small universe, just like Oxgodby, we can function without the big wide world and we are finding just how therapeutic the countryside can be. It is easy to imagine now how much good the pace and community of a small village would have been for two city dwelling men, broken by war, to spend some time in. Our French member brought our conversation to a lovely close by announcing 'I love the English countryside in the Summer.' Our Australian member agreed and the rest of didn't dispute it!
Our next read will be The Switch by Beth O'Leary and we will meet in a month, once again virtually, on 21st May at 8.15 pm. After our rather abrupt enforced ending of this meeting, a use of full ZOOM account has been offered and Sue will set us up and send invites.
Until then here's a little about J.L. Carr from a resident of Ashendon who knew him:
40 years ago, I was an
undertaker, working in the family business, in Kettering , Northamptonshire:
the county of "Squires and Spires". I did meet Carr from time to
time on various funerals. But that was not where we first became acquainted. The local art shop 'Dinsdales', a frequent haunt of mine, was full of prints,
tints and watercolours of local Churches, some with stupendous
skyscraping skylons, others, with squat towers as if trying to fold back into
the countryside and hide for fear of offending the county's signature edifices
Among these pictures I first came across some print oddities, described by the
proprietor thus: “ That's by Carr, he does them
himself, he used to be a local headmaster.”
It cost more to
frame, than to buy his prints... Unlike The Dan Dare print hanging next to
Carr’s, by local Cartoonist Frank Bellamy (who had just died) and
was described as a “Renown Nationally Newspaper Illustrator”. His
proofs fetched hundreds. But I preferred the idiosyncratic J.L. Carr.
Kettering was then, a boot and shoe town. The headquarters of the British Shoe and Allied Trades Research Centre (SATRA) was and still is based there today, as are the scatterings of some high brand boots and shoes manufacturers. If you look at Kettering's coat of arms, you'll notice a slave with a broken manacle and a leather hide. That's where it all started, the leather industry, a rural economy, marked by a strong allegiances to non-conformism. Everywhere countryside. a massive park donated by the local engineer and philanthropist Charles Wicksteed vies on It's outskirts with a massive private estate belonging to Britain's largest (by acreage) landowner. Then even more rolling countryside.
So hopefully, you've now got the picture of a market town with little to distinguish it from rolling acres of countryside but Carey the Baptist, Knibb the freer of slaves, Wicksteed park, possibly the Duke of Buccleuch , an incredibly inspiring spire and an awful lot of footwear.
Gently undulating hills on vast tracts of farmland in Northants. separate a half a dozen very large towns. Few villages, means traveling several Miles between settlements is not unusual.
Kettering was a self important fish of a town in a modest pond. It felt bigger than it was. Surrounding villages were exceptionally modest despite being endowed with churches of outstanding character, full of under appreciated architectural gifts that took the talent of J.L. Carr to prevent them being obliterated by time and vandalism and lost from consciousness .
He took on his own mission, to prevent one particular local, yet remote and derelict village church from bring made redundant. In this, the ex-teacher partially failed, though not to annoy church authorities. But that church, who’s actual fabric he helped preserve became a field centre and another local church followed suit to become a training school for stonemasons, something else that Carr turned his eccentric attentions too.
Kettering was then, a boot and shoe town. The headquarters of the British Shoe and Allied Trades Research Centre (SATRA) was and still is based there today, as are the scatterings of some high brand boots and shoes manufacturers. If you look at Kettering's coat of arms, you'll notice a slave with a broken manacle and a leather hide. That's where it all started, the leather industry, a rural economy, marked by a strong allegiances to non-conformism. Everywhere countryside. a massive park donated by the local engineer and philanthropist Charles Wicksteed vies on It's outskirts with a massive private estate belonging to Britain's largest (by acreage) landowner. Then even more rolling countryside.
So hopefully, you've now got the picture of a market town with little to distinguish it from rolling acres of countryside but Carey the Baptist, Knibb the freer of slaves, Wicksteed park, possibly the Duke of Buccleuch , an incredibly inspiring spire and an awful lot of footwear.
Gently undulating hills on vast tracts of farmland in Northants. separate a half a dozen very large towns. Few villages, means traveling several Miles between settlements is not unusual.
Kettering was a self important fish of a town in a modest pond. It felt bigger than it was. Surrounding villages were exceptionally modest despite being endowed with churches of outstanding character, full of under appreciated architectural gifts that took the talent of J.L. Carr to prevent them being obliterated by time and vandalism and lost from consciousness .
He took on his own mission, to prevent one particular local, yet remote and derelict village church from bring made redundant. In this, the ex-teacher partially failed, though not to annoy church authorities. But that church, who’s actual fabric he helped preserve became a field centre and another local church followed suit to become a training school for stonemasons, something else that Carr turned his eccentric attentions too.
A curate of that aforementioned
Kettering Church , with the landscape dominating Spire, who self importance had
obvious rubbed off on himself, visited JL Carr at home. Carr had carved some
statues at the church out of old curb stones to replace ones lost in the
reformation. Despite my curate friend’s right wing pretensions, he was very
offended when Carr concentrated his energies on trying to get him to purchase
some of his prints, disdaining just how small Carr’s bedroom cum print shop was.
It would have been water off a
ducks back. Carr was used to disdain. Have a look at his Wikipedia entry,
where he described himself.
If you have any doubt about his
interest, indeed passion for church architecture, compare two of his prints
below hanging in my house.
The quirky Northants. map left ; then the print of local Northampton-shire church stone work (The
Soke of Peterborough was part of Northants., pre-boundary changes).
Enlarged sections of both
follow below.
I hope you can enjoy this
additional glimpse into J.L. Carr .
You may like to add him to that
list of Kettering’s distinguishing graces...
Richard (Phillips)
