As a sometime exiled Northerner it could only have been a matter of time before Maconie decided to create a companion of sorts to his joyous
Pies and Prejudice: In Search of the North, and here it is. Anyone expecting withering broadsides at the Home Counties is going to leave with a sense of bitter and chippy [Northern] disappointment. No matter, this book is not for them; instead it is a celebration of a Britishness (and also, quite separately an Englishness) that, while not being of the wild, untamed and windswept north, is in its own way just as wonderful.
The starting point is considering what actually constitutes Middle England. The temptation is to think of it as a rather pampered, hectoring cultural hinterland, full of angry calls to Jeremy Vine on Radio 2 and whinges about immigrants and workshy layabouts. Instead, Maconie rather refreshingly infuses these places (and their people) with a warmth and a welcome lack of finger-wagging metropolitan liberal judgement.
As it turns out, the so-called foaming Daily Mail-reading mob are rather more liberal and tolerant than we are mostly led to believe; no more so than at the start of his journey as he describes a sleepy Sunday afternoon in Meriden, delighting in observing the minutiae of the passers-by and the local shop.
For me though, the best part of the book is a treat indeed from a music journo of his rare erudition: his journey to Hergest Ridge and the surrounding area where he manages to talk about Mike Oldfield, Syd Barrett and Nick Drake in a truly affecting and moving way; so much so that I really want to have a look around Tanworth. Now. The church sounds especially lovely.
These ruminations on music, the poetry of Auden and Brief Encounter amongst other things all join together to paint a sometimes rather wistful and melancholic picture of an England almost past. There is a feeling evoked occasionally that we are on the cusp of losing some vital part of our identity that we will never quite get back.
It's not all bad news, though. In amongst the melancholy is a sense of playful yet rather deep love of the country and all its foibles and tics. Yes, some things are being lost, but new traditions and wonders are rising in their place. England (specifically) is not just the land of the hoodie and the binge drinker, no matter what certain, more hysterical, sections of our press might say. And this book is an unironic celebration of all of that. Another England, not like the one of his (also rather wonderful) previous book, but one worth celebrating all the same.