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Festival at Farbridge
Published in the US as Festival, in the United Kingdom it was always known as Festival at Farbridge, a novel written to coincide with the Festival of Britain in 1951. It probably never matched the popularity of some of Priestley's similar long picaresque novels (which he loved to write), such as The Good Companions, but in its way was a success with readers who enjoyed this kind of tale.
- GenresFiction
593 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1951
About the author
J.B. Priestley
306 books254 followersJohn Boynton Priestley, the son of a schoolmaster, was born in Bradford in September 1894, and after schooling he worked for a time in the local wool trade. Following the outbreak of the Great War in 1914, Priestley joined the British Army, and was sent to France --in 1915 taking part in the Battle of Loos. After being wounded in 1917 Priestley returned to England for six months; then, after going back to the Western Front he suffered the consequences of a German gas attack, and, treated at Rouen, he was declared unfit for active service and was transferred to the Entertainers Section of the British Army.
When Priestley left the army he studied at Cambridge University, where he completed a degree in Modern History and Political Science. Subsequently he found work as theatre reviewer with the Daily News, and also contributed to the Spectator, the Challenge and Nineteenth Century. His earliest books included The English Comic Characters (1925), The English Novel (1927), and English Humour (1928). His breakthrough came with the immensely popular novel The Good Companions, published in 1929, and Angel Pavement followed in 1930. He emerged, too, as a successful dramatist with such plays as Dangerous Corner (1932), Time and the Conways (1937), When We Are Married (1938) and An Inspector Calls (1947).
The publication of English Journey in 1934 emphasised Priestley's concern for social problems and the welfare of ordinary people.
During the Second World War Priestley became a popular and influential broadcaster with his famous Postscripts that followed the nine o'clock news BBC Radio on Sunday evenings. Starting on 5th June 1940, Priestley built up such a following that after a few months it was estimated that around 40 per cent of the adult population in Britain was listening to the programme.
Some members of the Conservative Party, including Winston Churchill, expressed concern that Priestley might be expressing left-wing views on the programme, and, to his dismay, Priestley was dropped after his talk on 20th October 1940.
After the war Priestley continued his writing, and his work invariably provoked thought, and his views were always expressed in his blunt Yorkshire style.
His prolific output continued right up to his final years, and to the end he remained the great literary all-rounder. His favourite among his books was for many years the novel Bright Day, though he later said he had come to prefer The Image Men.
It should not be overlooked that Priestley was an outstanding essayist, and many of his short pieces best capture his passions and his great talent and his mastery of the English language. He set a fine example for any would-be author.
When Priestley left the army he studied at Cambridge University, where he completed a degree in Modern History and Political Science. Subsequently he found work as theatre reviewer with the Daily News, and also contributed to the Spectator, the Challenge and Nineteenth Century. His earliest books included The English Comic Characters (1925), The English Novel (1927), and English Humour (1928). His breakthrough came with the immensely popular novel The Good Companions, published in 1929, and Angel Pavement followed in 1930. He emerged, too, as a successful dramatist with such plays as Dangerous Corner (1932), Time and the Conways (1937), When We Are Married (1938) and An Inspector Calls (1947).
The publication of English Journey in 1934 emphasised Priestley's concern for social problems and the welfare of ordinary people.
During the Second World War Priestley became a popular and influential broadcaster with his famous Postscripts that followed the nine o'clock news BBC Radio on Sunday evenings. Starting on 5th June 1940, Priestley built up such a following that after a few months it was estimated that around 40 per cent of the adult population in Britain was listening to the programme.
Some members of the Conservative Party, including Winston Churchill, expressed concern that Priestley might be expressing left-wing views on the programme, and, to his dismay, Priestley was dropped after his talk on 20th October 1940.
After the war Priestley continued his writing, and his work invariably provoked thought, and his views were always expressed in his blunt Yorkshire style.
His prolific output continued right up to his final years, and to the end he remained the great literary all-rounder. His favourite among his books was for many years the novel Bright Day, though he later said he had come to prefer The Image Men.
It should not be overlooked that Priestley was an outstanding essayist, and many of his short pieces best capture his passions and his great talent and his mastery of the English language. He set a fine example for any would-be author.
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April 25, 2024
J.B. Priestley is remembered now mainly for his “Time Plays”, including “Dangerous Corner” (1932), “Time and the Conways” (1937), “I Have Been Here Before” (1937) and - perhaps most famous of all - “An Inspector Calls” (1945). But he wrote so much more! His work covers fiction, nonfiction and literary criticism; he was an English novelist, playwright, screenwriter, broadcaster and social commentator. During the Second World War J.B. Priestley was a regular broadcaster on the BBC. His radio programme each Sunday night in 1940 and 1941 attracted peak audiences of 16 million; only Winston Churchill was more popular with listeners! We forget now, just how popular J.B. Priestley was, at a time when the majority in Britain only had radio, predating television for the most part.
Festival at Farbridge is a novel which he perhaps viewed as a pot-boiler, but it is well worth reading now. It is set at the time of the Festival of Britain in 1951, which was a nationwide attempt to raise the spirits of a jaded and exhausted post-war nation. Coming midway in his oeuvre, Festival at Farbridge is a comic novel in the spirit of the 18th century. It perfectly captures life in a small town in the middle of the 20th century. It has a huge panorama of characters, as J.B. Priestley says in his introduction, but we are rooting for 3 in particular all the way through. They are all a motley crew, who are all down on their luck in some way: Laura Casey, Theodore Jenks and “Commodore” Tribe, (whose title needs to be in inverted commas, as we are never very sure of the authenticity of this lovable rogue’s credentials).
Festival in Farbridge is set in a very specific period in fact, focusing on just a few weeks in the life of this typical small town community in the English Midlands. It describes events mainly leading up to the Festival of Britain in the summer of 1951, and one or more of the three are usually centre stage. The novel was published to coincide with the Festival of Britain in 1951 and perfectly captures the enthusiasm and spirit of that bygone age, when things were - or at least appeared to be - much simpler.
However, at the beginning, not everyone is enthusiastic about a Festival by any means. Some feel apathetic, and some traditionalists fear change. Those concerned with governing the small town such as the mayor, town clerk and various officials, manufacturers and bigwigs are inevitably bothered about economics and just how much it will all cost. And everyone hopes that if it is going to take place, not they but someone else will not only foot the bill, but do all the work too.
Perhaps you are thinking that a good way to begin this most English of novels, might be if the three main characters meet in a traditional tea room, over afternoon tea. What could be more typically English than that essentially respectable ritual? But in fact that is not how we first meet them, merely the way they are introduced to one another. We actually meet Laura first, footsore, jaded, and decidedly fed up with her job as a typist lugging her heavy typewriter around to anywhere she is sent, to type for anyone who hires her. (This is 1951 remember, when machines were not designed to be portable, and travelling for lowly office staff in the Midlands was either by Shanks’s pony or bus!)
So Laura wearily rings the doorbell, to find that the local Conservative MP Major Bulfoss, who had requested a typist, is not there! Moreover she seems to have found herself in the position of aiding and abetting a wife who is running out on her husband. As more people enter this scene, we realise that we are in the middle of a farce. In which case, we think, the last person to enter is going to be predictable.
We have the mood now, an enjoyable light hearted novel. But what’s this? We switch scene to a London restaurant-cum-nightclub, and a group of insufferable theatre and film types; actors, moguls, directors, screenplay writers and what-have-you. All are wannabes or minor starlets; some are American or speak with a fake transatlantic drawl, and every single one is unbearable. In the midst of this is Theodore, a young man who has just returned to England from an unspecified South East Asian country, and is interesting to the throng partly because of his exotic good looks (he is partly Asian himself, and a huge, gentle hunk of a chap) and partly because he clearly has money. Theodore is rather bemused by the company, and I confess I did begin to wonder what it was that I was reading, as the theatre crowd scenes did pall for me. Perhaps these false theatrical types were of their time.
I wished I were back with Laura in Farbridge, and the complicated developments in her office and personal life. Laura Casey had seemed quite a spunky character, and one who would demand a great deal from life. The sleepy town of Farbridge, and lodging with Communist couple earnest Ernest and dithery Hilda, did not seem to be the place to realise her dreams. Sure enough she has escaped for now, as so many do, to London. So I was glad when the action shifted again, not very far and still in London, where two more characters have ended up, without any plans (and in their cases without much money either). Is this where the good old English cuppa will prove the comforting catalyst in uniting these three? What do you think.
These three are like chalk and cheese and (insert whatever description you like here … spice from the Orient, perhaps) but the older commissioned officer is a wily sort of chap. In fact he may be a bit of a “chancer”, but he scrubs up well, is astute and has enough experience of life and reliable gut feelings, to know that this unlikely pair of youngsters are on their way to being attracted to each other. Both are a bit clueless though, and either full of British reserve or chronically shy and gauche. It matters not which; the Commodore decides they need a push.
So the scene is set. Where it goes from here is anybody’s guess. We know from the title that a festival is going to form a major part of the book, but these three seem to lack any experience, have few if any relevant skills to organise a big event, and none of the all important cash (since all agree that Theodore’s money is not to be used) to fight a campaign.
But the astute Commodore manages by sheer charisma, modesty and a certain amount (but not too much) of candour, to convince Laura and Theodore that they would be doing a Good and Noble thing by organising a festival for this small town. None of them have any clear plans, and it would mean working very closely together and quite intensively for a few weeks - but nobody would forget what they had done. Theodore and Laura each know that they might never see each other again. How could they resist such a sales pitch?
They didn’t, of course, and the next thing we know is that they are back in Farbridge where all three are viewed with suspicion. Who really knows the elderly Commodore, or where he comes from? And just which country does this burly attractive young man come from? And wasn’t that the awkward and rudely outspoken young girl who had lost her job? Just who did they think they were, to try to change the mind of respectable townsfolk who had already made their views on the matter clear. And anyway, it was far too late to begin planning, wasn’t it?
So their efforts begin, to persuade the fair people of this eminently provincial small town, that what they all really want is to show all the other neighbouring towns how things should be done, and put Farbridge on the map with its superb contribution to the Festival of Britain.
We are not far on at all by now, and the meat of the novel is all ahead. Most is enjoyably satirical. We watch the wrangling by local political factions of all colours, including a devastatingly cutting portrayal of the local Communist party, at odds with the town’s Tory MP, and the cynical newspaper men who delight in reporting it all with suitable hyperbole and gloss. There are some entertaining set pieces, including a couple of eccentric, dim-witted but well-meaning aristocrats. There is a farcical description of an impossibly esoteric play, and its author. The leading man is an inebriate who has known better days, and is determined to include parts of all the soliloquies from the Shakespeare plays he has ever acted in, in his performance. An overly cerebral drama lecturer from Cambridge University is equally entertaining, bringing his theory of “Form” into every discussion, whether appropriate or not. Then there is the upper middle-class lady, a professional speaker who does the rounds every year, with the same talk “My Life with the Gypsies”.
Just as with many classics, it is likely that these are not merely types but exaggerated character studies based on actual contemporary and well-known individuals of the time. For instance it has been suggested that the playwright lampooned here was based on Christopher Fry, whose fame was at its height during these years.
Because J.B. Priestley’s literary legacy largely does rest on his plays, it is interesting to see him take a swipe at dramatists he considers pompous and pretentious. He was himself a prolific dramatist, and although some of his plays have not stood the test of time, there are several that still speak to us, grip us with their stories and twisty endings, and demonstrate Priestley’s passionate belief in socialism as well as the importance of community. We also see this in Festival at Farbridge. You may be surprised by how completely immersed you become in its world of small town politics; I know I was! We are rooting for our trio, through many trials and tribulations, hope that all will find personal satisfaction - possible all find loving relationships - and that the politicians who are striving for the best for the people of the town rather than their own glory, will succeed. We want this oddly disparate group to successfully pull off their own Festival at Farbridge, transforming not only the town, but also themselves in the process. It’s a bumpy ride, but we know from the timbre of the book that they will do it, somehow, by hook or by crook.
If you read this novel, (and I hope you do), make sure you read the introduction. It will get you in the mood. It comprises a letter from J.B. Priestley in October 1950 to his publisher and friend for over 30 years, A.S. Frere. He writes that Festival at Farbridge is a novel:
“in the old comic tradition of story-telling which is not dead yet - even though it is out of fashion right now - though perhaps it always was in fastidious literary circles (see Mr Mortory inside)”. How right he is, I nodded sagely. I am forever bemoaning the fact that there is rarely any humour in so-called literary novels nowadays …
He continues, saying that it is:
“not a narrative that goes on and on and on like a vast worm, taking a character or two from the cradle to the grave, [but is] a broadly based story (only covering a few weeks) containing an unusually large number of characters, who all have to be kept going, in the old comic way, which demands just about as much energy as a writer in his middle fifties can call to his aid. (And if you don’t agree, then you have a go next time, while I sit behind your desk in Great Russell Street, trying to look both businesslike and distinguished)”.
J.B. Priestley concludes with the priceless words:
“I don’t suppose this book is a contribution to Literature, which is rapidly becoming something that hardly anybody is allowed to contribute to … but this doesn’t mean that I don’t want any royalties for it, for I am collecting these for the Inland Revenue.”
Festival at Farbridge is a joy to read. It is very engaging and humorous; and as they say, they just don’t write them like this any more.
I listened to this novel on DAISY audio, read by Derek Chandler. It’s quite a long novel at 30 and a half hours, but for the most part was a treat to listen to. I was disappointed that there was no film from the time - an Ealing comedy would have captured the feel perfectly - although even if it were to be made now, I think it would make a good film. One to cheer us all up, as the “Five Towns” author Arnold Bennett might say through one or other character, and well worth reading if you are interested in English 20th century novels.
Festival at Farbridge is a novel which he perhaps viewed as a pot-boiler, but it is well worth reading now. It is set at the time of the Festival of Britain in 1951, which was a nationwide attempt to raise the spirits of a jaded and exhausted post-war nation. Coming midway in his oeuvre, Festival at Farbridge is a comic novel in the spirit of the 18th century. It perfectly captures life in a small town in the middle of the 20th century. It has a huge panorama of characters, as J.B. Priestley says in his introduction, but we are rooting for 3 in particular all the way through. They are all a motley crew, who are all down on their luck in some way: Laura Casey, Theodore Jenks and “Commodore” Tribe, (whose title needs to be in inverted commas, as we are never very sure of the authenticity of this lovable rogue’s credentials).
Festival in Farbridge is set in a very specific period in fact, focusing on just a few weeks in the life of this typical small town community in the English Midlands. It describes events mainly leading up to the Festival of Britain in the summer of 1951, and one or more of the three are usually centre stage. The novel was published to coincide with the Festival of Britain in 1951 and perfectly captures the enthusiasm and spirit of that bygone age, when things were - or at least appeared to be - much simpler.
However, at the beginning, not everyone is enthusiastic about a Festival by any means. Some feel apathetic, and some traditionalists fear change. Those concerned with governing the small town such as the mayor, town clerk and various officials, manufacturers and bigwigs are inevitably bothered about economics and just how much it will all cost. And everyone hopes that if it is going to take place, not they but someone else will not only foot the bill, but do all the work too.
Perhaps you are thinking that a good way to begin this most English of novels, might be if the three main characters meet in a traditional tea room, over afternoon tea. What could be more typically English than that essentially respectable ritual? But in fact that is not how we first meet them, merely the way they are introduced to one another. We actually meet Laura first, footsore, jaded, and decidedly fed up with her job as a typist lugging her heavy typewriter around to anywhere she is sent, to type for anyone who hires her. (This is 1951 remember, when machines were not designed to be portable, and travelling for lowly office staff in the Midlands was either by Shanks’s pony or bus!)
So Laura wearily rings the doorbell, to find that the local Conservative MP Major Bulfoss, who had requested a typist, is not there! Moreover she seems to have found herself in the position of aiding and abetting a wife who is running out on her husband. As more people enter this scene, we realise that we are in the middle of a farce. In which case, we think, the last person to enter is going to be predictable.
We have the mood now, an enjoyable light hearted novel. But what’s this? We switch scene to a London restaurant-cum-nightclub, and a group of insufferable theatre and film types; actors, moguls, directors, screenplay writers and what-have-you. All are wannabes or minor starlets; some are American or speak with a fake transatlantic drawl, and every single one is unbearable. In the midst of this is Theodore, a young man who has just returned to England from an unspecified South East Asian country, and is interesting to the throng partly because of his exotic good looks (he is partly Asian himself, and a huge, gentle hunk of a chap) and partly because he clearly has money. Theodore is rather bemused by the company, and I confess I did begin to wonder what it was that I was reading, as the theatre crowd scenes did pall for me. Perhaps these false theatrical types were of their time.
I wished I were back with Laura in Farbridge, and the complicated developments in her office and personal life. Laura Casey had seemed quite a spunky character, and one who would demand a great deal from life. The sleepy town of Farbridge, and lodging with Communist couple earnest Ernest and dithery Hilda, did not seem to be the place to realise her dreams. Sure enough she has escaped for now, as so many do, to London. So I was glad when the action shifted again, not very far and still in London, where two more characters have ended up, without any plans (and in their cases without much money either). Is this where the good old English cuppa will prove the comforting catalyst in uniting these three? What do you think.
These three are like chalk and cheese and (insert whatever description you like here … spice from the Orient, perhaps) but the older commissioned officer is a wily sort of chap. In fact he may be a bit of a “chancer”, but he scrubs up well, is astute and has enough experience of life and reliable gut feelings, to know that this unlikely pair of youngsters are on their way to being attracted to each other. Both are a bit clueless though, and either full of British reserve or chronically shy and gauche. It matters not which; the Commodore decides they need a push.
So the scene is set. Where it goes from here is anybody’s guess. We know from the title that a festival is going to form a major part of the book, but these three seem to lack any experience, have few if any relevant skills to organise a big event, and none of the all important cash (since all agree that Theodore’s money is not to be used) to fight a campaign.
But the astute Commodore manages by sheer charisma, modesty and a certain amount (but not too much) of candour, to convince Laura and Theodore that they would be doing a Good and Noble thing by organising a festival for this small town. None of them have any clear plans, and it would mean working very closely together and quite intensively for a few weeks - but nobody would forget what they had done. Theodore and Laura each know that they might never see each other again. How could they resist such a sales pitch?
They didn’t, of course, and the next thing we know is that they are back in Farbridge where all three are viewed with suspicion. Who really knows the elderly Commodore, or where he comes from? And just which country does this burly attractive young man come from? And wasn’t that the awkward and rudely outspoken young girl who had lost her job? Just who did they think they were, to try to change the mind of respectable townsfolk who had already made their views on the matter clear. And anyway, it was far too late to begin planning, wasn’t it?
So their efforts begin, to persuade the fair people of this eminently provincial small town, that what they all really want is to show all the other neighbouring towns how things should be done, and put Farbridge on the map with its superb contribution to the Festival of Britain.
We are not far on at all by now, and the meat of the novel is all ahead. Most is enjoyably satirical. We watch the wrangling by local political factions of all colours, including a devastatingly cutting portrayal of the local Communist party, at odds with the town’s Tory MP, and the cynical newspaper men who delight in reporting it all with suitable hyperbole and gloss. There are some entertaining set pieces, including a couple of eccentric, dim-witted but well-meaning aristocrats. There is a farcical description of an impossibly esoteric play, and its author. The leading man is an inebriate who has known better days, and is determined to include parts of all the soliloquies from the Shakespeare plays he has ever acted in, in his performance. An overly cerebral drama lecturer from Cambridge University is equally entertaining, bringing his theory of “Form” into every discussion, whether appropriate or not. Then there is the upper middle-class lady, a professional speaker who does the rounds every year, with the same talk “My Life with the Gypsies”.
Just as with many classics, it is likely that these are not merely types but exaggerated character studies based on actual contemporary and well-known individuals of the time. For instance it has been suggested that the playwright lampooned here was based on Christopher Fry, whose fame was at its height during these years.
Because J.B. Priestley’s literary legacy largely does rest on his plays, it is interesting to see him take a swipe at dramatists he considers pompous and pretentious. He was himself a prolific dramatist, and although some of his plays have not stood the test of time, there are several that still speak to us, grip us with their stories and twisty endings, and demonstrate Priestley’s passionate belief in socialism as well as the importance of community. We also see this in Festival at Farbridge. You may be surprised by how completely immersed you become in its world of small town politics; I know I was! We are rooting for our trio, through many trials and tribulations, hope that all will find personal satisfaction - possible all find loving relationships - and that the politicians who are striving for the best for the people of the town rather than their own glory, will succeed. We want this oddly disparate group to successfully pull off their own Festival at Farbridge, transforming not only the town, but also themselves in the process. It’s a bumpy ride, but we know from the timbre of the book that they will do it, somehow, by hook or by crook.
If you read this novel, (and I hope you do), make sure you read the introduction. It will get you in the mood. It comprises a letter from J.B. Priestley in October 1950 to his publisher and friend for over 30 years, A.S. Frere. He writes that Festival at Farbridge is a novel:
“in the old comic tradition of story-telling which is not dead yet - even though it is out of fashion right now - though perhaps it always was in fastidious literary circles (see Mr Mortory inside)”. How right he is, I nodded sagely. I am forever bemoaning the fact that there is rarely any humour in so-called literary novels nowadays …
He continues, saying that it is:
“not a narrative that goes on and on and on like a vast worm, taking a character or two from the cradle to the grave, [but is] a broadly based story (only covering a few weeks) containing an unusually large number of characters, who all have to be kept going, in the old comic way, which demands just about as much energy as a writer in his middle fifties can call to his aid. (And if you don’t agree, then you have a go next time, while I sit behind your desk in Great Russell Street, trying to look both businesslike and distinguished)”.
J.B. Priestley concludes with the priceless words:
“I don’t suppose this book is a contribution to Literature, which is rapidly becoming something that hardly anybody is allowed to contribute to … but this doesn’t mean that I don’t want any royalties for it, for I am collecting these for the Inland Revenue.”
Festival at Farbridge is a joy to read. It is very engaging and humorous; and as they say, they just don’t write them like this any more.
I listened to this novel on DAISY audio, read by Derek Chandler. It’s quite a long novel at 30 and a half hours, but for the most part was a treat to listen to. I was disappointed that there was no film from the time - an Ealing comedy would have captured the feel perfectly - although even if it were to be made now, I think it would make a good film. One to cheer us all up, as the “Five Towns” author Arnold Bennett might say through one or other character, and well worth reading if you are interested in English 20th century novels.
June 11, 2013
Craig Ferguson was recently very enthusiastic about this book on his late late night talk show--his literary novelist-guest confessed that he had never even heard of Priestley. So it goes. Priestley was enormously popular with the public, if not with all critics, from the 30s to the 60s. His radio talks in England were second in popularity only to those of Churchill. He was a novelist, playwright, literary and social critic, and essayist. A socialist who nevertheless opposed all forms of political and religious dogmatism and who distrusted government in general. This book is just over 600 very entertaining pages, describing how a small town in the west midlands puts on its own celebration of the Festival of Britain in 1951. It is a funny social satire, but also a generous and sentimental view of an England that everybody wishes had really existed not so long ago--the England of Foyle's War or Miss Marple on PBS. Priestley describes an almost Platonic ideal of England, timelessly existing, warts and all, but filled with plucky and good-hearted people. The cast is very large, and each character is described with at least one memorable and whimsical simile. The longest book I've read in a good long while, and I was never bored.
May 15, 2024
Thoroughly enjoyed the book. Great characters so well developed. A tiny bit drawn out for me, but hey that's J.B.Priestley at times. Well recommended, although a longish read.
January 19, 2019
Published in the U.S. as "Festival." A some-time con-man with a good heart, a Brit raised in the East Indies visiting England for the first time, and a recently unemployed young woman convince a rural town in England to participate in the Festival of Britain some few years after the end of World War II. Doesn't sound like much of a plot line, but this is a wonderful book. It's not Great Literature I suppose - no overtly transcendent themes or deep psychological insights - but it's filled with a huge variety of quirky, well fleshed-out characters and a never-ending supply of luscious language. It was published in 1951, so some topicalities are outdated and there are too many lucky (or unlucky) coincidences and romantic entanglements, but it's a book that will keep you constantly smiling to yourself and conflicted between turning the pages as fast as you can and lingering over the telling descriptions of each character and scene.
November 16, 2012
Originally published on my blog here in June 2001.
I had never really thought about the 1951 Festival of Britain, and had assumed that it hardly amounted to much outside the South Bank. Virtually every town and village in the country did something to mark the event, however, and Priestley's comic novel is about the preparations for this in the small town of Farbridge.
The main difficulty for me in 2001 is to try to think of the 1951 festival as something different from the limp and banal celebrations of the Millennium which have just concluded. The situation is different; the Festival of Britain was in part a reprieve following the years of self-denial of the War and its aftermath, and in part a celebration of a hoped for future, not just a coincidence of the way that the calendar works. People's lives are different; we now live in a world where just about every household is centred around the then rare TV; education is considered far less important, and there is no longer any serious attempt to consider traditional high art as better than popular culture; the idea of a duty to others is much less important in politcal and commercial life.
All this means that Festival at Farbridge is interesting as a historical document. It is not really successful as a comic novel, particularly when compared to, say, Low Notes On A High Level, and could not have been thought particularly funny even in the early fifties.
I had never really thought about the 1951 Festival of Britain, and had assumed that it hardly amounted to much outside the South Bank. Virtually every town and village in the country did something to mark the event, however, and Priestley's comic novel is about the preparations for this in the small town of Farbridge.
The main difficulty for me in 2001 is to try to think of the 1951 festival as something different from the limp and banal celebrations of the Millennium which have just concluded. The situation is different; the Festival of Britain was in part a reprieve following the years of self-denial of the War and its aftermath, and in part a celebration of a hoped for future, not just a coincidence of the way that the calendar works. People's lives are different; we now live in a world where just about every household is centred around the then rare TV; education is considered far less important, and there is no longer any serious attempt to consider traditional high art as better than popular culture; the idea of a duty to others is much less important in politcal and commercial life.
All this means that Festival at Farbridge is interesting as a historical document. It is not really successful as a comic novel, particularly when compared to, say, Low Notes On A High Level, and could not have been thought particularly funny even in the early fifties.
March 16, 2011
One of Priestley's long ones, c. 600 pages.
Very good and typical more like an Ealing comedy than anything. Three very different people come together to help a small town stage a festival for the festival of Britain, far better and more interesting than it sounds!
Very good and typical more like an Ealing comedy than anything. Three very different people come together to help a small town stage a festival for the festival of Britain, far better and more interesting than it sounds!
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews