#bournville

[justforbooks]

Bournville by Jonathan Coe

Coe is a compassionate witness to key moments in the life of a family and a nation

Jonathan Coe’s 14th novel opens with a snapshot of recent history that will stir fresh and uncomfortable memories. As the Covid pandemic is descending on Europe in early 2020, thirtysomething Lorna, a struggling jazz musician, is on tour in Austria and Germany. Lorna’s exhilaration at gigging overseas for the first time is tempered by a growing sense that the world is menaced by something extraordinary. It is both ominous and comic. Arriving in Vienna, Lorna can barely squeeze into her host’s car beside the stockpiled toilet rolls. For the reader, there’s an additional and more worrying dramatic irony: we can see that Lorna’s overweight musical partner, Mark, will be particularly vulnerable to the virus.

In Vienna, Lorna and Mark are taken to dinner by Ludwig, the owner of a small independent record label. A jazz fan and passionate anglophile, Ludwig is struggling to figure out what has happened to a nation he once admired for its tolerance, humour and self-awareness. “And now this same generation is doing … what? Voting for Brexit and for Boris Johnson? What happened to them? … What’s going on?”

Events since 2020 have only sharpened the urgency of Ludwig’s questions. And the loving, funny, clear-sighted and ruminative examination of recent British history that follows might be considered an attempt to answer them. Bournville travels back in time from March 2020 to stage a series of tableaux in which we witness key moments in the lives of the nation and Lorna’s extended family. The successive set-piece events show this family – and Britain – changing.

Our first stop is 1945, where we meet Lorna’s grandmother, Mary, as a child, on the eve of the VE Day celebrations. Mary’s parents, Doll and Sam, live in the chocolate-manufacturing suburb of Birmingham that gives the book its title. There is warmth and humour in the portrait of lower middle-class life presented, but it’s not sanitised. A strain of xenophobia bubbles up throughout the episode and climaxes in an act of violence that will echo throughout the book.

This sets the pattern of the novel, which tracks Doll, Sam, Mary and other members of the family through six further landmarks: the 1953 coronation, the 1966 World Cup final, the investiture of Charles as Prince of Wales, the 1981 royal wedding, the death of Princess Diana, and the scaled-down anniversary of VE Day in 2020.

As ever, prizing clarity over verbal fireworks, Coe’s writing draws the reader into the family dramas as they unfold over the decades. He has the great gift of combining plausible and engaging human stories with a deeper structural pattern that gives the book its heft.

We see young Mary as child and then return eight years later to find her a young woman, struggling with a romantic dilemma and then settling into motherhood. We then join her children on family holidays in Wales, follow them into adulthood and watch all their lives intersect with the larger national events. Beat by beat, we’re invested in their stories: which of her suitors will Mary choose? How will her own offspring fare? And although we know it’s going to happen all along, it’s still poignant and strange to watch young Mary gradually becoming Lorna’s elderly Gran.

Bittersweet as the eponymous bar of plain chocolate, the book ranges over a huge span of time, includes a large cast of characters, yet never flags nor confuses. It manages to squeeze in, among other things, the history of Bournville, European disputes over the labelling over chocolate, Welsh nationalism, the Festival of Britain, the launch of the Austin Metro and tensions over the European Union. As we leaf through the family album, there are touching jolts of recognition. It’s hard not to be stirred by your own memories of the events portrayed and thoughts of your own family.

Like the moving images in a zoetrope, Coe’s snapshots invite us to notice changes and continuities, track growth and decay; the strengthening of some relationships, the failure of others. There are striking reverberations along the book’s long passageways: unregarded turning points whose importance only becomes clear much later, echoes of behaviour, incidents that recur in a world that is the same but different.

As the nation changes and the racial makeup of the family alters, it’s not so much that bigotry gives way to tolerance, but that the ambiguities deepen. All along, we are reminded of the contradictory facets of the nation and of each individual character: the snobbishness that coexists with kindness, humour and narrow-mindedness, rationality and unexamined prejudices.

When one of Mary’s son’s starts dating a non-white girlfriend, his grandmother Doll is disquieted. “‘Do you treat her the same?’ Doll wanted to know. ‘I mean … do you treat her the same as you would any other girl?’” This striking line is an unsettling and plausible combination of compassion and racism.

The book also builds a deeper integrity out of echoes and motifs, like a piece of music. The phrase “all that caper”, a particular corner of a Birmingham pub, a yellow cravat, a line of Latin verse, the sound of laughter in a school playground – all set off chains of associations that ripple throughout the novel. A piece of casual homophobia will be recalled decades later by a son trying to come to terms with his sexual orientation.

Subtle, considered, but not programmatic, Coe doesn’t stick to any consistent aesthetic principle. He uses omniscient narration for some sections, first-person narration for others. There are bits in the past tense, bits in the present tense, chunks of news reports, extracts from a diary, a long reminiscence by a recurring character from one of his other novels. None of this sophistication makes the book less pleasurable – quite the reverse. It combines a welcoming accessibility with a box of clever narrative tricks.

It struck me that there is something hopefully British about the book’s flexible approach to narrative. There’s no theoretical doctrine underlying it. The decisions are made, moment by moment, on the basis of what works, what is clear, what is engaging, and what best serves the story. In the end, while the novel can’t explicitly allay Ludwig’s disquiet, its compassionate and undogmatic approach to its characters and craft embodies a set of values that give some grounds for optimism.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[tilecleaningtoday]

Birmingham Expert Details the Restoration of Neglected Quarry Tiled Floors in Bournville

A customer had recently moved into a property in Bournville and discovered an original Quarry tiled floor in the living room, hallway and a couple of quirky tiled areas upstairs. After searching on the internet for some inspiration, they came across my previous work and got in touch. Period floors like these are very popular and so they were keen to have the Quarry tiles restored.

I went over the property to survey the floor and made notes of all the floors and problems including the removal of self-levelling screed in the living room. This is often used to level tiled floors prior to the installation of another covering such as Vinyl or Carpet. It can be difficult to remove but it can be done. Another issue that would need to be dealt with was carpet glue and paint stains which I found in the hallway.

I worked out a detailed plan for the restoration work and was able to use this to create a quote for the work. Keen to have the floors restored my quote was accepted and a date set for the work to start.

Cleaning a Quarry Tiled Living Room Floor

The first day was spent removing an area of levelling screed from the living room along with a couple of repairs to the tiles. This literally has to be scrapped off the tiles by hand to remove the bulk of the screed. The whole floor was then cleaned with a strong dilution of Tile Doctor Remove & Go scrubbed in with a 120-grit carbide pad fitted to a weighted buffer machine. The resultant slurry was then extracted with a wet and dry vacuum.

The next step was to give the floor an acid rinse using Tile Doctor Grout Clean-up which is ideal for breaking down cement residues. It was let to soak into the floor for ten minutes before being scrubbed. For this the coarse 120-grit pad was switched for a finer 240-grit carbide pad. The floor was rinsed with water and extracted again to remove the slurry.

After inspecting the floor, I was pleased to see that marks imprinted onto the tiles by the previous floor covering had been removed and the tiles were looking so much cleaner. Happy with my work the tiles were left to dry off overnight with the aid of a couple of air movers.

The next day I tackled the Quarry tiled hallway which was stained with carpet glue. The started with a steamer to loosen up year’s old adhesive and bitumen along with a scraper to remove dried paint. The hallway tiles along with a couple of tiled hearths upstairs were then cleaned using the same process as the living room.

After an hour or so of drying the tiles, I applied a coat of Tile Doctor Stone Oil to all the floors and left them to dry for twenty minutes before towelling off the excess. The tiles were then left to dry off completely overnight. Stone oil is the first step in the sealing process and adds colour, texture, and generally improves the condition of the Quarry tiles after years of neglect.

Sealing a Quarry Tiled Living Room Floor

On the last day I applied a coat of Tile Doctor X-Tra Seal to all the tiles to seal them. This sealer is an impregnator that soaks into the Quarry tile, occupying its pores and thereby preventing dirt from residing there. The tiles were

This sealer will ensure that dirt remains on the surface where is can be easily cleaned away. Another benefit of the sealer is it further improves the colour of the tiles and being fully breathable it will allow moisture still in the floor to rise through and evaporate at the surface.

Once complete all the tiled floors looked so much cleaner and colourful, additionally the new sealer gave all the Quarry tiles a consistent appearance throughout the property.

My customer was very happy with the results and before leaving I took time to discuss aftercare cleaning and left them with a complimentary bottle of Tile Doctor pH neutral Tile Cleaner. This is a mild but effective tile cleaning product that won’t impact the sealer which can be the issue with the stronger products you find in supermarkets.

Source: Quarry Tile Floor Cleaning and Restoration Services in Bournville Birmingham

[vox-anglosphere]

Bournville

Autumn in Bournville' You have seen me use the phrase 'chocolate-box' to describe a beautiful cottage and in a recent 'Friday Five' I explained the term came from George Cadbury of Bournville who used pretty thatched cottages to decorate his chocolate boxes. So here's some scenes from the village that I previously shared a couple of years ago Pictures 1, 2 & 5 are of the beautiful Selly Manor, found in the heart of the village. This amazing, timber-crucked building dates back to at least 1327!! It was rescued from demolition in 1907 when George Cadbury, had it painstakingly dismantled, restored and moved to the centre of his Bournville village where the Cadbury Chocolate factory is today! Photo 3 is of the beautiful Rest House, situated right in the centre of the village and a few steps away from Selly Manor. Paid for by the Cadbury employees, it was built in 1913 as a gift to George Cadbury and his wife, Elizabeth to commemorate their silver wedding anniversary. The Rest House was inspired and based on a 17th century market hall in Dunster in Somerset. Today, it houses the visitor centre, full of photographs and information on the Cadbury family and a big section on the Bournville Carillon housing 48 bells, and ranks as one of the finest and largest instruments of its kind in Great Britain, which I've included as a bonus photo no 6! George Cadbury commissioned the Carillon as a gift to the Cadbury workers in 1906 after a visit to Bruges, Belgium. Photo 4 shows the lovely row of traditional shops, at the bottom of the green, including, a butcher's, a bakers, a florist and two cafes! The area is full of beautiful buildings where all the streets are named after trees, Laburnum, Acacia, Sycamore, and Willow to name a few and Selly Manor stands proudly on Maple Road! Hope you've enjoyed this view of Bournville, its history and my favourite chocolate maker, George Cadbury! Enjoy your day, it's very chilly but a beautiful sparkling blue sky is very welcome

[zaddyazula]

funniest fact i live in the city (and sort of local area) where cadbury’s is from so my year 2 school trip was going to cadbury world 😋😋😋 7 year old me was so lucky

[philosophenstreik]

irgendwie verfängt die gestaltung des einbandes mit seiner etwas verfremdeten britischen flagge, ausgeblichen, dreckig scheint sie... bournville, der titel im zentrum und dann läuft da noch etwas herunter, was auf den ersten blick wie öl erscheint, was aber nach lektüre des romans einfach keinen sinn machen würde, ... nein, es ist schokolade, die diesen einband herunterläuft, es ist schmilzende cadbury aus bournville... mit recht verfängt dieses von hauptmann und kompanie gestaltetes cover - sehr gelungen und ansprechend... (rezension zum roman im vorigen beitrag)

[healthlifeai]

How Much Dark Chocolate Can a Diabetic Eat Per Day?

Discover how much dark chocolate is safe for diabetics to enjoy daily. Learn the best practices for indulging without compromising your health.

[flaxleytyresmobile247]

Best Tyres in Bournville

Elevate your driving experience with our performance tyres Bournville, where we unleash your vehicle's full potential for a thrilling and responsive ride. We also champion eco-friendly driving with our guide to sustainable tires, showcasing how making green choices for your tires contributes to a greener, more sustainable future for Bournville.

[snackstar]

Why Choose Hershey Kisses Chocolate as Your Go-To Sweet Treat?

In a world overflowing with choices, there's one sweet confection that stands unwavering in its ability to captivate hearts and palates alike – Hershey Kisses chocolate. From its humble beginnings to its iconic status today, Hershey Kisses have not only transcended time but also become an integral part of our lives.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

La Dolce Vita - John Shelby/Cosima Changretta (OFC).

I thought it had been a while since we last caught up with John and Cosima, besties. Here, another little installment to their tale :)

Words - 1,856

Warnings - Childbirth. It's time for John and Cosima to welcome a brand new Shelby into the clan!

Part V - Piedi Piccoli

“You are never... ouch... ever... ow, fuck! Ever coming near me ever again for as long as I bloody live, John Shelby!”  

Oh yes, he’d expected to have that yelled at him, Cosima’s rage pulsing strongly as another contraction hit her hard, Polly rubbing her back supportively. “Come on, love. Keep breathing deep. Big breath in, there you go, and let it out slow. That’s it. Good girl.” Her eyes landed on her nephew, casting a glance to the door. “As soon as Arthur arrives, you need to get out of here. She’s almost ready to deliver and it ain’t the place for a man. Saves having any more of your fancy plates lobbed at your head, too.” 

He could see the sense in that, after ducking three dinner plates and two side bowls aimed at him by his extremely pained wife, screaming that her pain was very much all his fault so far in her labour. It hadn’t helped at all when John had reminded her that she’d very much been welcoming of him at the time. Making babies felt amazing; but birthing them was another matter altogether, as Cosima was very painfully learning.  

Arthur was on his way back from Bournville with Audrey, Cosima screaming for her mother in the early hours of that morning. Polly had been staying with them to help out with the children with Cosima so close to her baby coming along, the latter feeling very fortunate for the strong, female presence there in her home. Polly had gone through it twice before, of course, so knew well what the young woman was experiencing.  

“Pol, I can’t, I can’t do it!” she gritted, another contraction hitting her as she gripped her aunt’s hand hard. “It’s too blooming much! It feels like there’s a bus trying to drive its way out of me!” 

Polly smoothed her hair, letting her lean into her as they stopped their pacing. Walking had been making her feel better, taking slow laps around the sitting room, where she’d prepared a space for Cosima to deliver upon the settee. “I know, sweetheart. Holy shit, I remember it well.” 

“I know you hate me right now, Sima, but shit, you’re doing so well. I’d give you a big hug if I wasn’t scared you’d strangle me,” John pouted from the kitchen, the space between the two rooms completely open, so allowing him to watch his wife pace from a safe distance. He’d even considered fitting a small lock on the china hutch, just in case any further crockery became airborne.  

Looking up at him, her face crumpled, pulling free from Polly’s grasp to waddle over to him and clutch him tightly. “Don’t leave me! I know men aren’t supposed to be present, but I don’t want you to go!” she sobbed, John tightening his arms around her as she sobbed.  

Now, there was a surprise. 

“Aww, me bab,” he cooed softly, stroking her sweat-slick hair, “you’re gonna be alright once your mom is here.” 

“Don’t you leave me!”  

Her scream rung through his ears, John raising his eyebrows at Polly. “Well, if you want me to stay, I suppose I can.”  

“Suppose?” she cried. “You fucking will stay!” Oh, no. Her fear and pain could only push her indignance and rage down so far before it brimmed forth again.  

Shrugging lightly, he rubbed her back, beginning to walk with her. “Looks like I’m staying, then.” 

Once Arthur and Audrey had arrived, this decision was met by disapproval, naturally. 

“I was gonna take him up the village pub and keep calling on the phone to check up,” the former stated, looking very uncomfortable, even though he wasn’t the man being asked to stay.  

“I think Arthur is right, darling,” Audrey spoke, gently dapping Cosima’s forehead with a cool, wet cloth. “Let the men go and wait in the pub.” 

“I don’t want him to! I... arrrgh, shit!” she gritted, her mother soothing her with a tut. 

“Less of the coarse language, love.” 

Cosima’s head all but swivelled upon her neck. “Mama, maybe you should go to the pub if you’re going to have a problem with me swearing, because trust me, I’m only just getting started!” 

A long, shrill scream followed her words, the young woman clutching onto her husband’s forearm, John standing behind her holding onto her pain-riddled body in a tight embrace against his chest. He looked up at his mother-in-law, shaking his head. “Don’t think I’m going nowhere, Audrey.”  

She sighed, knowing her daughter well enough to know she would be fighting a losing battle. “Fine, fine. Looks like we’re being awfully modern about this baby coming.” 

“I’ll be off, then,” Arthur stated, standing up. Immediately, John pointed at him. 

“No, you ain’t,” he warned, that finger pointing to the next room. “Go wait in the front room. I need some kind of support in this house.”  

His moustache bristled as he twisted his lips thoughtfully, walking to the cabinet and fetching a bottle of whisky. “Ar, maybe you’re right. I’ll put the wireless on, keep meself amused.” For the next four hours, he steadily worked his way down the bottle, always on alert. Hearing the sitting room door open, he poured a glass, holding it aloft as John came in, an ear drum ripping scream sounding through the walls. 

“Blimey,” he grunted, turning to his brother. “You look even paler than normal, John boy.” 

Sinking the whisky, his eyebrows fluttered, his eyes rounded. “Ain’t fuckin’ surprised.” 

“Dare I ask how it’s going in there?” 

“Fuckin’ horrible. I ain’t even at the goal end, don’t wanna watch none of that, but shit. It’s bad. Poor bab, proper knackered, she is.” Another scream echoed, John cocking his head in the direction it came from. “Gotta head back. Polly thinks it’ll be soon.”  

“Best of luck.”  

He’d need it too, getting Cosima through a labour she was completely exhausted from, the baby deciding to take it’s time in coming into the world. It was worth it in the end, though, as with a huge push, sat leaning back against her husband’s chest as Polly and her mother oversaw it, a tiny little baby was placed into her mother’s arms. She screamed, Cosima cried, and John felt like he was going to pass out at the sheer amount of blood.  

Still, it didn’t stop him from falling in love as soon as he saw his little girl. God, she was beautiful. 

“I’m so proud of ya, bab,” he spoke, kissing his wife’s hair as she tenderly cradled their daughter, sobbing with utter joy. “Look at her, all this dark hair.” He added fondly, his finger stroking the side of the baby’s head. 

“She’s so pretty! I love her so much,” she cried, drying her tears on the sleeve of her nightdress. “I couldn’t have done it without you here. Thank you for staying with me.”  

The couple marvelled at the brand-new presence in the room, little Beatrice – as they’d decided on for a girl – wailing on, Audrey and Polly assisting in cleaning her up and handing her to her father in a soft blanket while Cosima delivered the afterbirth. Once she was cleaned up, the many towels and blankets protecting the settee taken away, a much fresher and more comfortable Cosima laid back with her daughter in her arms, the baby feeding contentedly as her father looked on. 

“She don’t half look like you, don’t she?” he smiled, his fingertip stroking over Beatrice’s tiny hand. “Never stops amazing me, just how little they are when they’re brand new.” 

Cosima’s eyes softened, taking the baby’s hand and cooing. “The little fingernails, John!” she gasped, beaming, every inch the proud mother. “And yes, she does. I was hoping she’d have lovely, red hair like yours. The Italian blood won out there, though. Oh, if she gets your freckles, though!” 

“You bloody leave off about me freckles, woman!” he warned, Cosima chuckling, her smile soft. 

“I love your freckles though, JB.” JB. It was a new affectionate name she’s coined for him, of course the initials standing for John Boy. “You know what I’d love even more right now?” 

“A cuppa?” 

She nodded. “Read my mind, love.” 

While her husband was pretty much useless in the kitchen other than making sandwiches the size of doorsteps, his tea making skills were second to none. 

As John disappeared into the kitchen to brew a pot, Cosima settled back, cradling Beatrice close and humming a gentle tune. The sound of John’s whistling mingled with her lullaby, creating a comforting symphony in their cosy home. She marvelled at the tiny, perfect features of their daughter, feeling a profound sense of gratitude and love.  

The aroma of freshly brewed tea soon filled the air, and John returned, placing the tray down onto the table and pouring from the teapot.

“Tell ya what, I’m proper starvin’, I am,” he spoke, handing her the cup.  

“I was just thinking about your doorstep sandwiches,” she confessed, blowing her tea before taking a careful sip, setting it down on the end table to her side. “I could easily polish one off right now. My tummy is having a right blooming rumble. Haven’t ate anything since teatime yesterday.” 

“Oh, not gonna take the mickey out of me bread slicing skills, eh?”  

Her pretty lips pouted in amusement, twisting a little. “Just as long as the doorsteps are sliced evenly.” 

“Cheese and ham, yeah?” 

“And onion, please. There’s some sitting in vinegar over on the side.” 

Nodding, he stood up, leaning to kiss her and Beatrice. “Right you are, Sima. I’ll go call into your mom, Pol and Arthur, see if they want anything an’ all.” 

The women had left them to it for a time, letting them get acquainted with their daughter and going to see how well Arthur was progressing with his whiskey. Quite nicely, it seemed, from the decibels he reached while following his brother back into the room. 

“Our John, making sandwiches?” he bellowed, looking three sheets to the wind. “I gotta bloody see this. And have a little look at the babby as well.” Moving over, he gave Cosima a kiss on the cheek, looking down at the tiny, snoozing bundle in her arms. “Ain’t she bloody pretty, ay? Well done, love.”  

He might have stunk like a brewery floor, but his intentions were good. “Thanks, Arthur. Make sure he doesn’t put too much butter on mine.” 

Arthur beamed, swaying a little. “Not too much butter for the new mother, John Boy!” 

Polly then entered with Audrey, her eyes wide as she shook her head. “I’ll go and oversee, keep Arthur away from anything sharp.” 

“I ain’t doing anything other than watching John make a bloody mess of it all!”  

Well, at least there wasn’t about to be another mess of blood to clean up. Laughing at the rambunctiousness of it all, Cosima looked down at her little baby, laying a tender kiss to her sweet-smelling head. “Our family is full of noise and chaos, but so full of love. You’ll see, you lucky little girl. You’ll see.” 

[trexalicious]

Noooooo! I love Dairy Milk...

[corroded-void]

Bournville, Birmingham

February 1995

[justforbooks]

The actor Ian Lavender, who has died aged 77, played the awkward, impulsive Private Frank Pike in the long-running BBC comedy Dad’s Army, and was the last surviving member of the cast who portrayed Captain Mainwaring’s Home Guard platoon.

Most of the part-time soldiers depicted in the series, which ran from 1968 to 1977, were exempted from call-up to the army during the second world war because of advanced age. Pike, their junior in most cases by several decades, had been excused because of his weak chest, and always wore the scarf insisted upon by his widowed mum, Mavis.

In spite of their foibles and foolishness, Mainwaring’s pomposity and the frequent slapstick sequences, the heroes of Dad’s Army were courageous men prepared to give their lives to protect their country, and it was this innate nobility that lifted the series, written by David Croft and Jimmy Perry, to greatness. At its peak it had more than 18 million weekly viewers, and is still regularly rerun.

There were many catchphrases – Lance Corporal Jones’s “Don’t panic!”, Private Frazer’s “We’re doomed!” and Sergeant Wilson’s languid “Do you think that’s wise, sir?” – and the best-remembered belongs to the gangster movie-fixated Pike, though he did not utter it himself: Mainwaring’s weary “You stupid boy!”

Pike was also involved in Dad’s Army’s most frequently quoted joke. “What is your name?” snarls the German U-boat commander who has been captured by the platoon. “Don’t tell him, Pike,” shouts Mainwaring. There was often great subtlety in the inter-platoon relationships, best exemplified by that of Pike and Wilson (John Le Mesurier). Wilson, whom Pike calls Uncle Arthur, is Mrs Pike’s lodger, and is forever fussing around the boy, making sure his scarf is on tight and gently steering him away from danger. It was not until the end of the final series that Lavender asked Croft if “Uncle Arthur” was actually Pike’s father. “Of course,” replied Croft.

Born in Birmingham, Ian was the son of Edward, a policeman, and Kathleen (nee Johnson), a housewife; his mother often took him to see pantomimes, variety shows and Saturday morning cinema, which gave him his first ambitions to become an actor. After performing in many school drama productions at Bournville boys’ technical school he was accepted, with the help of a grant from the city of Birmingham, by the Bristol Old Vic acting school. Clearly far from being a stupid boy, he passed 12 O-levels and four A-levels. “The only reason I don’t have a degree is because I went to drama school,” he said years later.

He made his first television appearance soon after he graduated from Bristol in 1968, playing an aspiring writer whose family want him to get a proper job, in Ted Allan’s play for the Half Hour Story series, Flowers at My Feet, with Angela Baddeley and Jane Hylton.

In the same year, he was cast as Pike, joining the seasoned veterans of comedy and the classics Le Mesurier, Arthur Lowe (Mainwaring), Clive Dunn (Jones), John Laurie (Frazer), James Beck (Private Walker), Arnold Ridley (Private Godfrey) and Bill Pertwee as Air Raid Warden Hodges. Janet Davies played Mrs Pike.

While Dad’s Army catapulted Lavender to national fame at the age of 22, the role of Pike haunted him for the rest of his long career. Not that he had any complaints.

Asked in 2014 if he got fed up with a lifetime of having “stupid boy” called out to him in the street, he replied: “I’m very proud of Dad’s Army. If you asked me ‘Would you like to be in a sitcom that was watched by 18 million people, was on screen for 10 years, and will create lots of work for you and provide not just for you but for your children for the next 40-odd years?’ – which is what happened – I’d be a fool to say ‘Bugger off.’ I’d be a fool to have regrets.”

After Dad’s Army, Lavender made further television appearances, including Mr Big (1977), with Peter Jones and Prunella Scales, and in 1983 he revived Pike for the BBC radio sitcom It Sticks Out Half a Mile, a sequel to Dad’s Army, but it was not a success and lasted only one series. In contrast, the original series, with most of the regular cast, had been rerecorded for radio from 1974 to 1976 and proved very popular.

He was also in the BBC TV series Come Back Mrs Noah (1977-78), co-written by Croft; and played Ron in a new version of The Glums (1979) for London Weekend Television, adapted from Frank Muir and Denis Norden’s original radio scripts of the 1950s. There were more smallish television parts in the 80s, such as two episodes of Yes, Minister, and bits in Keeping Up Appearances, Goodnight Sweetheart, Rising Damp and Casualty. He starred in the unsuccessful BBC series The Hello Goodbye Man in 1984 and provided the lead voice in the children’s cartoon series PC Pinkerton in 1988.

He was also in various quiz shows, including Cluedo (1990). On Celebrity Mastermind, broadcast on BBC1 on New Year’s Day 2009, when the presenter John Humphrys asked him to state his name, a fellow contestant, Rick Wakeman, shouted: “Don’t tell him, Pike!”

In addition to co-starring in the first film version of Dad’s Army (1971), he appeared in various low-level British sex farces of the 1970s, including Confessions of a Pop Performer (1975), Carry on Behind (1975), Adventures of a Taxi Driver (1976) and Adventures of a Private Eye (1976). He also starred in the thriller 31 North 62 East (2009). “I was close to getting two very big movies in the 70s,” he said without rancour in 2014, “but in the end they said: ‘We can’t get past Private Pike.’”

Lavender’s second best-known role was his delicate and sympathetic portrayal of Derek Harkinson, Pauline Fowler’s gay friend, in the BBC soap EastEnders from 2001 to 2005, and again in 2016-17.

In addition to various live Dad’s Army productions, his stage work included the Royal Shakespeare Company’s The Merchant of Venice, directed by Peter Hall and with Dustin Hoffman as Shylock in 1989, touring as the Narrator in The Rocky Horror Show in 2005, Monsignor Howard in the London Palladium production of the musical Sister Act in 2009, The Shawshank Redemption at the Edinburgh fringe in 2013, and his own one-man show of reminiscences, Don’t Tell Him, Pike.

Lavender had a great admiration for Buster Keaton, and was an expert on the silent comedian’s career. In 2011 he introduced Keaton’s Sherlock Jr (1924) at the Slapstick silent comedy festival in Bristol, and commented that finding Keaton’s grave in the Fountain Lawns cemetery in Hollywood had been one of his life’s special moments.

In 2016 a new cinema version of Dad’s Army was released, with Toby Jones as Mainwaring and Bill Nighy as Wilson. Private Pike was played by Blake Harrison, and Lavender was promoted to play Brigadier Pritchard. In a touching in-joke, his younger face was also seen on an advertisement poster in a street scene.

Lavender is survived by his second wife, Miki Hardy, whom he married in 1993; by his sons, Sam and Daniel, from his first marriage, to the actor Suzanne Kershiss, which ended in divorce; and by two granddaughters.

🔔 Arthur Ian Lavender, actor, born 16 February 1946; died 2 February 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[gorbalsvampire]

Get To Know Me(me)

Tagged by @silkenred!

Last Song :: Street of Dreams by The Damned - it's one of my alarms, because I cannot refrain from bopping to it.

Favorite Color(s) :: Midnight blue and pale yellow: that may be the sunset I just watched, though. A particular, lambent shade of green that I shall always associate with Venice. Off-white: the faint yellowing of clean bone or old silk. Ashen grey and ash blond hair.

Currently Watching :: I'm more of a listener-whilst-doing, but currently enjoying Mystery Quest on YouTube.

Last Movie :: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (rewatch).

Sweet/Spicy/Savory :: Sweet, I think, but soft or sharp sweet, not the claggy sweetness of domestic chocolate. Bittersweet is better still. I want a Bournville now, you bastard, and the shop is closed.

Relationship Status :: Engaged. Extremely long term.

Current Obsessions :: Vampire: the Masquerade, obviously: right now I am vaguely thinking about elder and methuselah powers and finishing the Gehenna War review. Warhammer (retro Fantasy Battle, contemporary 40,000). Turn based strategy in general (if it has low specs and hexes to click I am disposed to like it). Pot roasts (not to brag, but I make a sublime coffee and maple brisket). The fiction and philosophy of M. John Harrison. The notion of a twenty-first century Gothic (it's a fair cop, Red). Eccentric crime fiction in multiple media (reading: Alis Hawkins, The Skeleton Army, watching: feeling like The Biederbeck Affair or the second series of Life On Mars).

Last Thing I Googled :: Um, ackshuwally I use DuckDuckGo for most things and so should you. And it was the technicalities involved in the office of "deacon."

Tagging :: you. Yes, you. If that's OK. If you wanna.

[birminghamuk49]

Bournville green on 3rd July 1981. New plans were put forward by The Bournville Village Trust including pedestrianising Sycamore Road - plans still being talked about today

[metal-rick]

Favorite candy?

Cadbury Bournville dark chocolate. You find that shit and I'll ask you to marry me.

[philosophenstreik]

bournville

roman von jonathan coe

erschienen 2023

im folio verlag

isbn: 978-3-85256-885-0

bournville ist eine von cadbury gebaute modellstadt, die sich um das schokoladenwerk herum ausbreitete. cadbury-schokolade ist fast ein nationalheiligtum und großer stolz erfüllt die briten mit dieser... bournville ist ein zentraler ort für die familie von mary lamb, die die hauptprotagonistin dieses sich über 75 jahre spannenden romans darstellt. die geschichte beginnt mit mary als kind, als tochter, die das ende des krieges, churchills große rede zum ende des 2. weltkrieges im kreise ihrer familie in bournville miterlebt. der familie geht es immer besser und sie können sich gar einen fernseher leisten um die krönung von elisabeth II. zu verfolgen - viele nachbarn und freunde strömen ins haus, um daran teilzuhaben. mary wird mutter und später großmutter und alle episoden werden begleitet von historischen ereignissen - britischen ereignissen: die wm 1966, die hochzeit von charles und diana, der tod von diana, und auch ohne titel eigener episoden zu sein der aufstieg boris johnsons, die pandemie und der brexit.

jonathan coe schreibt zeitgeschichte verpackt in einer familiensaga und das auf eine sehr unterhaltsame art und weise. familien kann man sich nicht auswählen, man wird in sie hineingeboren und jedes mitglied, jedes kind macht seinen eigenen weg, durchmacht seine eigene wandlung und alle themen, die coe anspricht bieten viel platz für polemik und diskussionen, verschiedene standpunkte und sehr viel konfliktpotenzial. coe spart hier nichts aus. von der britischen einheit, dem zusammenhaltsgefühl nach dem sieg über nazi-deutschland tun sich immer und immer mehr grenzen zwischen den meinungen und innerhalb der gesellschaft auf... die frage, ob die monarchie noch zeitgemäß ist trennt das volk. ob britische schokolade durch die eu diskriminiert wird gibt wieder ein zusammenhaltsgefühl, das im "schokoladenkrieg" endet... die frage der monarchie taucht immer und immer wieder auf - auch beim nichtssagen der queen nach dianas tod. die fußball-wm 1966, auch wenn nicht jeder an fußball interessiert ist, vereint zwar, polemisiert aber doch ob der rhetorik, die immer wieder in den alten kriegsmodus verfällt. das thema eu ist ein dauerbrenner der diskussionen genauso wie der brexit, und dann ist da noch boris johnson, der das volk polarisiert... eine sehr unterhaltsame studie über britische animositäten, eine tolle beobachtung der diskussionen in allen bereichen der britischen gesellschaft und das alles ganz einfach verpackt in die geschichte einer einzigen - wenn auch großen - familie. beeindruckend britisch. und beeindruckend der blick auf die britische seele, in der scheinbar immer zwei herzen schlagen...