Stoke Newington Literary Festival: Paul Morley on The North

The plush surrounds of Stoke Newington Town Hall appear an unlikely setting in which to discuss a region typified by spit'n'sawdust, steel and graft. But if there's one thing the excellent annual Stoke Newington Literary Festival provides it's variety, from big names including Irvin Welsh, Caitlin Moran and Tariq Ali to comics, poetry and even Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore, the week-long north east London festival has everything and some great venues to host them in. 

Former NME journalist and author Paul Morley, who was born in Surrey but grew up in Stockport, has come to discuss his book, The North. However, as he explains, he usually gets booked as a last minute stand-in to interview authors about their books. As such, with no such interviewer available, he opts to interview himself - selecting content from a Q&A sent by his publishers.

The format itself is a clever idea - he says he once did it before in split screen on BBC2's The Late Review - but struggles in reality. The book itself is a collection of studies on various northern artists and their views of the north but you wouldn't get that from the first half hour in which Morley addresses his concept of 'a north' in which he essentially explains why the book is heavily biased towards the North West, in which he grew up. 
Despite the interview premise, the talk is rambling and structureless, full of great nuggets - the Stockport viaduct features 11 million bricks donchaknow? - but undermined by pulling back to discuss the book's authenticity every time he piques interest. 

Albert Tatlock

He talks about what Albert Tatlock, Ken Barlow's uncle on Coronation Street, the archetypal grumpy northerner, would have made of the book and makes an interesting observation that Shameless' Frank Gallagher may have taken on this TV mantle. But, again, it's about how it may be perceived. One reason, I suspect, is that Morley moved to London following the infamous Sex pistols Free Trade Hall, Manchester gig in 1976 and he wants to ensure that the book has a ring of truth.

However, his frequent excellent writings on northern musical heroes including Ian Curtis, and The Human League give him this authority and he shouldn't be afraid to stick to it. Moreover, I ask him after the talk, why music didn't play more of a role in his readings, given his first hand accounts of people who have defined the north would be fascinating and invaluable. He replies that figures like The Fall's Mark E Smith do feature but in truth there's not the colour or the effervescent anecdotes which would lighten the whole event. 

Morley does make a good point however, when he address the fact that there being a 'North' means that it's defined by a South. He talks about how trains have to stop at Stockport on the way to London and that northerners perhaps over-egg their love of where they're from in the face of stereotypes etched out by southerners who have absolutely no idea where Ravenscar is. 


In essence, this talk is a list of Paul Morley's favourite northerners' from artist L.S Lowry to author Anthony Burgess, waving his glasses and constantly putting them on and whipping them off as he explains his passions. It's certainly interesting however more of his unique musical insight, which many will have attended to hear about, and a stronger view of what being from the north is about would have been more than welcome. 

Stoke Newington Literary Festival: Stewart Lee and John Hegley

The problem with things that sound pretentious is, well, they’re actually fun. Justifying going to a literary fest to others is a difficult one, like convincing a doubter to climb aboard an errant camel to enjoy the view from the top. But we wouldn’t commit pretentious acts – going to see foreign language films we know will be slow and depressing, attending twee folk gigs where you have to sit on the floor – if it didn’t have an element of raw fun in there somewhere now would we?

The inaugural Stoke Newington lit fest has already garnered an impressive line-up, swelled by the likes of Tony Benn, Jeremy Hardy and incredible author/ShadowPlay contributor Toby Litt, at this early stage. The north London suburb is typified by its poor transport links, slightly yuppyish but charming streets and hoards of goods pubs and eateries.

My experience of the event centred upon two acts, Stewart Lee and John Hegley. Tucked away in a back street, the Stoke Newington International Airport is an instantly engaging venue. Essentially a garage filled with trinkets and mismatched chairs, Lee takes to the stage backed by a haunting painting of horses with a plane overhead and a kitchen dresser any house proud mum would desire. Lee, a Stoke Newington resident, is typically downbeat and modest and the comedian apologises for not being funny today, despite being just that. He proceeds to read a short story, N, by  Arthur Machen fluently and deadpan. Mackan’s tale is fit for this very occasion, a winding tome about visitors to Stoke Newington and perception of the village and its mythical park just four miles from central London. He’s an author for whom there is clearly much love and his gothic, accessible and eloquent 1930s tales are something deserving of further investigation. The heavens open outside as Lee reads, it seems entirely apt, they stop shortly before the end, not sure how much the organisers paid for that one.

Another local, John Hegley offers an entirely different prospect. Backed by double bassist Keith Moore (who also whips out a euphonium – an instrument which he can draw with some speed and skill – during the set), Hegley reads poems, letters and simple quips without breaking stride or hearing a lull in the laughter. The beautiful Assembly Rooms at the top of Church Street have clearly hosted the making and breaking of a hundred hearts over the decades but tonight the glitter ball merely reflected the positive. Urging the crowd to sing, translate French and even throw their glasses in the air, Hegley leads his audience through sidling songs of guillemots, Anglo-French romance and, ahem, hamsters. As the crowd file out, many clutching copies of Hegley’s book (which comes with lots of free space to draw pictures, nice) signed in pastels the smiles are as bright as the volunteer’s pink t-shirts. Stoke Newington, as an outsider, a comparative southerner, I salute you.