Categories
Beer history pubs

The Renaissance of the English Public House

Basil Oliver’s The Renaissance of the English Public House was published in 1949 1947 and argues that the period between the two World Wars was a golden age of pub design and building.

Cover: The Renaissance of the English Public House.It is printed on post-war paper (rough and yellowing) but is crammed with photographs and floor-plans of specific pubs up and down the country.

In his introduction, Oliver observes that, in the period before World War I, new pub buildings were rare because of the ‘misguided idea… that to improve buildings was to encourage drinking’. He observes, however, that the prohibitionist urge actually triggered a great resurgence in pub design and building: when the state began to run the brewing and pub industry in Carlisle in 1916, ‘it permitted unhampered experiments in many directions, but especially in the evolution of the public house’.

County Arms, Blaby, near Leicester.
County Arms, Blaby, near Leicester.

An entire chapter of the book is given over to the Carlisle State Management scheme. During WWI, Oliver says, improvements were limited: the removal of hard-to-supervise snugs and ‘snuggeries’ (small compartments) to create ‘light and airy cheerfulness’. After the war, new buildings were commissioned, including The Gretna Tavern, which replaced (Oliver reckons) six ‘snug-type houses’. We could not help but think of Wetherspoon’s.

Away from specific pubs, the more general detail Oliver provides on contemporary pub culture offer a useful companion piece to the Mass Observation book The Pub and the People. On alternative names for the ‘public bar’, he observes that ‘Tap Room’ is out of fashion, and…

Saloon Bar has a faint suggestion of superiority, and is the haunt of the ‘toffs’ (or would-be toffs) but even they frequently require the inevitable darts-board. Smoking Room… is also popular…. Private Bar and Bar Parlour… are equally indicative of their purpose — private transactions and intimate conversations — and from being popular with the fair sex have virtually become, in many houses, a Women’s Bar.

The last, lingering remains of Victorian morality can be detected in a coy discussion of toilets: ladies’ and gentlemen’s lavatories, he insists, must be apart from each other, secluded, but also easy to supervise. (The horrifying fact that people of both sexes piss must be kept secret, but there should be no opportunities for hanky-panky either.) Even today, it occured to us, the easiest way to find the ladies’ toilet is usually to walk as far from the gents’ as possible, and vice versa.

As for beer, Oliver is quite clear: ‘From the consumer’s point of view, the ideal way of receiving his beer is direct “from the wood”, and — on a hot summer’s day — from a very cool cellar.’ Cellars, he suggests, should be cut off from the outside world, running with damp, have earth floors, and be exposed as much as possible to the cool soil beyond their walls. The ideal, he concedes, is rarely possible:

More likely is it that new ways of drawing draught beer will be invented for conditioning draught beer which will eliminate all the complicated paraphernalia of beer engines, air-pressure installations, flexible pipes…

The grand ‘Tudor mansions’ of Mitchells & Butlers in Birmingham are also granted a chapter of their own, highlighting the advantages to brewers of building on new sites rather than restoring old pub buildings: restaurants, car parks, gardens, and even bowling greens were common. London gets a chapter of its own, too, with the rest of the country, from Liverpool to Devon, wrapped up in two more general surveys of urban and ‘wayside’ pubs.

We spent a bit of time looking up pubs mentioned on Google Street View. Many are gone altogether. Others were rebuilt on the same scale but with less style. A few remain, but often defaced with plastic banners, ugly signage, and accumulated grime: the Apple Tree in Carlisle, featured in the big image at the top, is now ‘Pippins‘, and still a handsome building.

For a rather specialised, technical book, Oliver’s prose is very readable, with the occasional amusing turn of phrase and impassioned diatribe. We paid around £20 for our copy, which is not in great condition, but it isn’t rare or hard-to-find. Depending on how interested you are in the detail of pub design and/or this particular period, that might seem a bit steep, but we enjoyed it.

Categories
Blogging and writing

Let’s Go Long on 1 March 2014

Once again, we’re planning to post a ‘long read’ about beer, and would love it if other writers and bloggers joined us.

Our post will be going live on Saturday 1 March 2014.

We’ll post as many reminders as we can get away with without annoying people here, on Facebook and on Twitter.

There will be a round-up of everyone else’s posts (like this and this) on Sunday 2 March.

If you decided to give it a go, as before, there are no rules, but…

  • Do write something longer than your usual posts. We aim for 1500 words minimum — about three times as long as usual. If you usually write 1500 word posts, then shoot for 3000.
  • Try to make it something people will find it worthwhile downloading to read later using Pocket/Instapaper or other similar apps.
  • Use this as an opportunity to challenge yourself: do something different; do some research; step out of your usual routine.
  • Pro beer-writers: this is a good chance to revisit old material or finally air an unpublished gem.
  • Will Hawkes is a beer writer and journalist who knows what’s what — try not to bore him:


You don’t have to link to us or mention us (though of course we appreciate it when people do), but you will want to use the Twitter hashtag #beerylongreads and/or email us a link if you want to be included in the round-up.

SPECIAL OFFER!

We have already agreed to review and edit another couple of writers’ posts, and have someone lined up to edit ours. If you’d like us to look at your post, give some advice on structure and generally help you polish it up, we can probably handle a few more if you can email your draft to us by Friday 28 February.

What we’re writing about

We’re going to attempt to write a capsule history of the pub preservation movement. If you’ve had a historic involvement in pub preservation, or think there are books and articles we ought to read, drop us a line at boakandbailey@gmail.com, or comment below.

Categories
beer in fiction / tv pubs

Film Review: The World’s End

The following review contains spoilers.

Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright’s third film together, amidst the giant robots and explosions, has something to say about pubs and their place in British culture.

In 1990, five young men celebrate finishing school by attempt and fail the legendary ‘Golden Mile’ twelve-pub crawl in their home town of Newton Haven, somewhere in the English Home Counties. As the years pass, their ‘leader’, Gary King (Pegg), becomes a drug addict, while the others go on to forge respectable professional careers. Then, more than 20 years later, King (who they all now hate) rounds them up with the intention of finishing the job. During its course, they realise the town has been taken over by bodysnatching aliens and do the only sensible thing: carry on drinking until the final pub, which is fittingly named The World’s End.

As a science-fiction comedy action movie, The World’s End is solid — better than Hot Fuzz, but not quite up there with Shaun of the Dead, or the TV series Spaced which threw Pegg and Wright together fifteen years ago. As a commentary on pubs and drinking, however, it is fascinating.

When the reunited gang arrive at the first pub on their crawl, they are disappointed to find that it has become rather bland and corporate. An accurate observation, but the punchline comes when they enter the second pub: it is exactly the same, down to the last faux-rustic chalkboard and cod-Victorian gewgaw.

Architect Stephen (Paddy Considine) calls this process ‘Starbucking’. Thereafter throughout the film, a parallel is drawn between the body-snatching aliens’ robot clones and high street chains, both of which take over and improve the shell at the expense of the ‘soul’.

This isn’t small-is-good, shop local, individualist propaganda, though: under the control of the aliens, people are nicer and less violent, and the town is fundamentally more functional. Similarly, the idealised robot landlord (Mark Heap) the sinister invaders create for one pub on the crawl is too good to be true: chatty, smiling, glass-polishing, beervangelising perfection.

“…nutty, foamy, with a surprisingly fruity note which lingers on the tongue.”

This is one of the few films we have seen where the protagonists are improved by drunkenness. They become more open and honest with each other and only when legless are they able to resolve the decades’ worth of tensions between them and become real friends again. Beer gives them back their lost youth. It also makes them stronger, and Nick Frost’s character in particular is a kind of Incredible Hulk figure whose super-powers are only unleashed when he finally downs a pint of lager. Lots of people think they are skilled martial artists when drunk, but these ordinary men really do become butt-kicking action heroes under the influence of booze.

The film’s final message is that we, as a culture, have the choice between authentically human (unreliable, chaotic, dirty, stumbling drunk) or efficiently corporate (bland, dead-eyed, ‘perfect’, and sober). Whether you think the film has a happy ending or not will depend on your preference.

The World’s End was released on DVD in November last year.

Categories
opinion pubs

Chocolate Fondant with Tomato Ketchup

Our experiences of the past few days in Bristol have led us to ponder the rights of the consumer when a beer is not technically ‘off’ but just plain unpleasant.

In a restaurant, we’d feel reasonably happy complaining about a dish if it was, e.g. burnt, cold or mouldy. (Well, not happy, exactly — we are British, after all.)

If, however, we ordered something advertised as ‘super hot’, would we complain if it was either too mild or too spicy? Probably not. What if the sauce was too salty for our taste? In a cheap and cheerful curry house, no; at a ‘posh’ restaurant, maybe.

What if we ordered something ‘wacky’ — chocolate fondant with ketchup, say — and then didn’t like it? We would probably blame ourselves for making a bad choice, or not ‘getting it’.

So what about pubs and bars?

If you choose something that is technically in good condition but simply tastes dreadful, do you take it back?

“I’d like this pint changing: the pump clip says it’s really hoppy, but it’s actually quite bland.”

It’s not the done thing, so we don’t do it. We are, however, likely to become wary of the brewery, and think less of the bar for failing to ‘edit’ or ‘curate’.

With beer, it’s not always clear that you’re ordering something ‘weird’, especially if you’re not a beer geek. It can also be hard to tell where intentional weirdness ends and ‘offness’ begins, especially as sour beers become more common.

We’ve yet to see a tasting note on a behind-the-bar blackboard that says something like ‘smells like antiseptic and tastes like mud, but meant to be like that’. (Because no-one would order that beer?)

Some bars very wisely do give warnings — ‘You’ve had this before, yeah?’ Tasters are also helpful. After Russian roulette at one bar in Bristol, we appreciated all the more that at Brewdog, it was almost impossible to order a beer without being given samples and advice.

While some publicans might get hacked off at people who try taster after taster, surely in the long run it is the best way to achieve a satisfactory consumer experience if quality beer is at the heart of your offer.

Photo: The Sound of the Sea at Heston Blumenthal’s Fat Duck restaurant, by Jessica Spengler. (Flickr, Creative Commons.)

Categories
Beer history featured london

Southwark Pub Walk: a potted history

As luck would have it, quite a few key sites in the story of ‘the strange rebirth of British beer’ happen to be clustered together in the Southwark area of London, making for a perfect history walk with added boozing.

UPDATE 20/09/2014: It hadn’t occured to us back in December last year, but undertaking this crawl while reading Brew Britannia would be a good way to spend an afternoon. We’ve added notes on which chapters in the book reference which pubs.

The walking route we have suggested below will take you past the following locations:

1. Ye Olde Watling — City of London headquarters of the Society for the Preservation of Beers from the Wood, now a cosy Nicholson’s chain pub. (Chapter 1)

2. The Rake — the first really notable ‘craft beer’ bar in London, and still a great place to find good, or at least interesting, beer. (Chapter 12)