Middle England by Jonathan Coe

Author:Jonathan Coe
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780241981320
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2018-11-07T16:00:00+00:00

24.

‘Aren’t you going to record this?’ asked Benjamin.

The journalist, whose name was Hermione Dawes, smiled and shook her head. She had a writing pad open on her lap, and a biro poised over it. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders in blonde curls and her lipstick was bright red.

‘I’m a very old-fashioned girl,’ she said. ‘Shall we get started?’

‘Sure,’ said Benjamin.

He sat back on the sofa and tried to relax. The view of the Severn streaming past his window normally calmed him, but not this morning. He could not shake the feeling that Hermione (whose pieces, Philip had warned him, could sometimes be ‘a bit sharp’) was coolly surveying the contents of his house and judging every object, every design choice, every item of furniture.

‘So – you started writing when you were very young, is that right?’

‘Yes. About ten or eleven. I remember –’

‘And were your parents writers?’

‘No, not at all. My father worked at the British Leyland factory in Longbridge, and my mother stayed at home. She was a housewife.’

‘And you went to a local school?’

‘I went to King William’s, which is near the centre of Birmingham. It was my parents’ choice.’

‘Do you think it was the right one?’

‘I suppose. I mean … Just recently, I got back in touch with one of my oldest friends from primary school, who I hadn’t spoken to for more than forty years, and it did make me realize how the British education system can, you know … divide people.’

‘What does he do now?’ Hermione asked, scribbling away.

‘He’s a clown.’

She looked up. ‘A clown?’

‘A children’s entertainer.’

‘Well, that’s lovely that you’re back in touch with him, anyway. Was it at school that you became serious about writing?’

‘Now – I’m glad you asked me that,’ said Benjamin. ‘Because, looking back, I can pinpoint the moment almost exactly. It was November 1974, and a friend of mine – his name was Malcolm, he was my sister’s boyfriend actually – took me to a concert at a club in town called Barbarella’s. And one of the bands playing was called Hatfield and the North. Nowadays we’d call what they played “prog rock”, but that term didn’t really exist then, as you probably remember …’

Hermione, sensing that he was waiting for her to offer some sort of confirmation, merely said: ‘I was born in 1989.’

‘Oh. Right. OK. Well, what blew me away about Hatfield and the North that night, you see, was that there was this combination of freshness – originality – complete rethinking of form – while the music was very easy to listen to, it really invited the listener in. And I thought, “This is what I should be doing as a writer.” For instance, on their first album there’s a piece called “Aigrette”, which was written by the guitarist, and if you listen carefully, not only is the time signature changing every few bars, but it goes through these extraordinary modulations, these key changes, and yet the tune is really catchy, really attractive to the ear.

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