So, he who is known only as “Hubby” is making a rare guest contribution to the What Cathy Read blog, but as ever, worry not, Cathy will be back next month.
I went to an all-boys secondary school in the late 70’s and early 80’s. It was a time when corporal punishment was routinely used and Prefects’ reputations were built on their ability to administer a blow to an 11 year old’s behind with an old trainer. (“Lloydy’s” prowess was legendary; he would leave a calling card of Adidas spelled backwards.)
When my cohort became Prefects, we happily discussed our hit-lists of the lower-year boys, only for our anticipation to be tempered by the news that “slippering” was to be abolished. The times they were a-changing.
Puberty brought facial hair, and the ability to be tolerated in pubs and clubs. One pub had a strip show on Saturday mornings, at which one of our dinner ladies performed. I guess she must have recognised some of the faces skulking at the back of the room, but there was a perfect Mexican stand-off – apart from some quiet singing of Kajagoogoo’s Too Shy (her backing track) in the dinner queue.
My oldest friend dates back to school days and we occasionally reminisce. I remembered being head-butted by a boy in the year below, who later went on to represent Great Britain at rugby league. (I woke up still on my feet but staggering backwards several yards away. It remains a proud claim not to have gone down.) My friend then admitted the same boy had punched him right between the eyes (again to his credit he stayed upright). When I told Cathy, she was astounded that neither incident had repercussions either with the Masters or our peers, but at the time we didn’t think anything of it, we just moved on.
The above feels like a random collection of loosely related anecdotes recounted for laughs or a bit of shock value, which brings me onto the book:
This is the first novel in a trilogy which concludes with Middle England, winner of the Costa Novel Award 2019 and subject of Cathy’s blog last month.
Set in the 1970s, it covers the school days of Benjamin Trotter, or “Bent Rotter” to his friends, who together with his sister Lois (Lowest Rotter) constituted the only two members of the self-deprecatingly named club of the title.
As well as Ben and Lois, the book follows Ben’s school friends, their siblings, and their parents, whose lives intertwine, often comically. At times it made me laugh out loud. The same events are shown from the adults’ and their children’s viewpoints, and the novel evokes memories of a different time, socially light years away from where we are today, some of it barbaric, some of it sorely missed.
Initially I thought it was simply going to be a series of comic set pieces, but the story gradually revolved more and more around the central character. Ultimately it has all the ingredients of a good novel: a likeable central character, some stuff happening (some happy, some sad) and some closure at the end. To quote from the final chapter: “Stories never end, do they? Not really. All you can do is chose a moment to end on. One out of many”.
I’ve enjoyed the journey so far, and am interested to find out what happens next.
Cathy’s read it too, so I’ll let her rate it (it’s one of the best books I’ve read this year – but I’ve only read 3!).
Cathy’s rating: I thought Hubby would like it more than me. I’m plumping for *** Highly recommended.
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