Gloucester Crescent

 If you've seen "The Lady in the Van" you know Gloucester Crescent a little bit; you have a little idea of the kind of people who live there - like the kind woman who tries to give Miss Shepherd some home baking, and the cross man (Roger Allam) who opens her jar, the children who play piercingly on the recorder and drive her nuts, and Alan Bennett himself. You know that the houses are tall and Victorian, possibly 😏, and have tiny little front gardens and large basement kitchens.

This seems to be a historical shot of the street, and Miss Shepherd's van, before they were famous.

If you read the Nina Stibbe book "Love Nina" you find that the family she was the nanny for - the Frears, and Mary-Kay Wilmer - lived opposite Alan Bennett. Jonathan Miller, with his wife and family, lived up the road, and they borrowed his saw to cut up a Christmas tree. Claire Tomalin, busily editing literary pages for a Sunday paper, and writing a biography possibly, lived close by, and with her a playwright called Michael Frayn. Mrs Ursula Vaughan Williams lived in the street, and later on, so does Debbie Moggach, another writer. Nina was absolutely thrilled by the comings and goings and the artiness of everyone in the street. She writes home to Leicester to tell everyone about it and she reports conversations verbatim, which makes her seem like a playwright herself. She spots the wit in people, and some of the ridiculousness of the young people she meets at the Poly, and the second time I read the book I laughed a lot. I think the first time I read it I thought - "oh, it starts to flag when Alan's off the scene", but that was just me. The writing has a free-wheeling personality all the way through.

Nina-the-nanny has to cook something for supper every evening, not just for Mary Kay (editor of the London Review of Books) and the boys, but for Alan Bennett as well, and some of her letters are concerned with the trials of cooking and asking her sister for more recipes. Alan is a bit critical of Hunter chicken, saying he prefers it without tinned tomatoes. He brings around milk puddings as his contributions. Sometimes I wondered if he ever went round to see Jonathan Miller, because in Nina's book they don't seem to be on speaking terms. Did they fall out after "Beyond the Fringe"? They must have done. Do they even nod at each other in the street for old times' sake? 

I was concerned about the non-relationship between Alan and Jonathan, and in the spirit of enquiry, I went to another book about Gloucester Crescent which is called "Gloucester Crescent" by William Miller, son of the famous Jonathan.  This popped up on my Amazon feed. So I went for the Kindle version. (I am now deploying this strategy with book-buying: If I want it on my bookshelf I buy the book but if I think of the book as a mere diversion, e.g. a thriller, I get it on Kindle. If it's for my research it's nearly always out of print and I have to get a second-hand version on Amazon. 

So, "Gloucester Crescent" is written by an almost exact contemporary of mine. Whereas I was growing up in the stockbroker belt he was right in the middle of London. His sort of people were the sorts that appeared in the Sunday Paper Magazine. (A Life in the Day of). He writes in a terrible plonking style because he is a small child to start with, and this reflects a small child's sensibility, but it carries on like that. The vocabulary gets better as he gets older. He never really gives you a taste of the fun that must have gone on at his father's dining table, but he does tell you...

That Alan Bennett came round to dinner every night. Every night. And brought milk puddings.  And brunch on Sundays. You can understand how perplexed I am. At no point does Alan seem to stop going to the Millers' and start to go to Mary-Kay's. Did he eat two dinners every evening, and if so why? did he not put on weight? 

What comes across very strongly is William's father's personality and his father's strong opinions. These reject the idea of perpetuating class - the class system. Jonathan went to a public school and onto Cambridge, and spoke with an incredibly posh accent. At Cambridge, he was able to meet a large number of young men and a small number of women just like himself. He could see that the public school system was very wrong and divisive so he decided to send his own children to the local state schools. This is fine when the children are small, and get help at home, but later on his children, especially William, suffered from being with very threatening bullies, and could have achieved a lot more than they did, we infer, if the classrooms not been merry hell. The freedoms that the children enjoyed when they ran around to each other's houses reminded me of the children of the more Bohemian parents at my private primary. They were slightly frightening, because they were too grown-up for children. Their parents were not the protective sort.

But although the Millers went with their principles in the matter of education, they still had a lot of unfair advantages when it came to personal contacts. And so William went into the Meeja through the contacts of his father, and nothing, absolutely nothing changed. He ended up buying a house on the same road. Middle-class children are just not allowed to fail. Their parents couldn't live with it.

Jonathan Miller wasn't a wonderful father, in spite of being a clever and very engaging man. He liked to hear his own voice too much. He never held back from his dramatic suicidal threats out of anxiety for his children. He also liked to have his friends around all the time to the extent that his children must always have felt unimportant. His son says that he always loved him very much, but the book is full of complaints about his parenting.