In 1974 the Booker Prize was shared between Nadine Gordimer for The Conservationist (still on my tbr after several years) and Stanley Middleton for Holiday. I hadn’t read any Middleton before and really didn’t know what to expect. It would seem that Windmill Books re-issued a number of Middleton books last year – which is great, I was surprised at just how many novels Middleton wrote, there’s a very long list of them inside my copy.
Not knowing a thing about Middleton, I had to look him up to find out more. Stanley Middleton was born in Nottinghamshire in 1919, as well as a prolific writer he was an English teacher at a grammar school. His first novel was published in 1958 his final novel published posthumously. Having won the Booker Prize with Gordimer in 1974, in 1979 Middleton turned down an OBE. He died in a nursing home in 2009 just before his ninetieth birthday.
I very much enjoyed reading Holiday, although I don’t think it could be described as easy, I settled in to Middleton’s prose quickly enough, but the overall book makes for a degree of fairly slow reading. Middleton’s world is a very recognisable one, his observations spot on.
Having recently separated from his wife Meg, school master Edwin Fisher decides to spend a week in an English seaside holiday resort. Bealthorp is a place Edwin knows well, a place he holidayed with his parents when he was a child. Now, in his thirties, his marriage in trouble, following the devastating loss of their son, Fisher has a lot to come to terms with. Fisher’s thoughts frequently return to the past, to the holidays of his childhood, and his relationship with Meg. Through his reminiscences we gradually come to understand the intricacies of the Fisher’s marriage and the trauma they suffered when their son died. Fisher spends the first couple of days of his holiday indulging in old routines. Walks along the sea front the purchase of a newspaper and back to the hotel for a meal, Edwin seems to be merely killing time.
In the dining-room this evening, silence blossomed once the families began to eat. Fisher enjoyed the activity, the tucking of bibs, the wiping of mouths, the tipping of plates for the last spoonful, the pause between courses where one put on a small show for the other tables or angled for the correct snippet of conversation which would set the rest to chatter or laughing. These people worked hard, holding their fingers correctly, not marking the tablecloths and this ceremony pleased him. In this room decorated with dolls and paper flowers it was proper to act the gentleman, ape the lady. When the standard was judged, by Monday evening at the latest, there’d be a relaxation, a few aitches would topple, salacious asides allowed, confidences would be exchanged, but at this the first dinner after a complete day’s holiday matters were formal.
The Vernons; Fisher’s in-laws, are also staying in Bealthorpe, although at a different hotel, and they waste little time in interfering. The Vernons want Meg to reconcile with her husband, and Fisher is subjected to marital advice from David Vernon. A meal is arranged, David Vernon has arranged for his daughter to come to the hotel to see Edwin. The appointed time comes and goes but Meg never appears.
During the week at Bealthorpe Fisher begins to socialise with his fellow holiday makers, particularly the Smiths and the Hollies. Edwin indulges in a little flirtation, pleased to find himself desirable in the eyes of another woman, even if it is just a mad holiday moment.
As anyone who has holidayed by the seaside in England will know, holiday weeks run Saturday to Saturday, and by the Thursday of your week away, you always feel rather on borrowed time. Edwin feels this too.
“Thursday, now he strolled towards the Methodist church where the iron gates were padlocked, and posters of scrag-ribbed refugees faded in the sunshine. Thursday.
When he was on holiday as a boy the first three days had passed slowly, but by Thursday time flew. Friday flashed a nothing. One bought presents; one ventured into the sea, but home, wash-day, errands re-established themselves in the mind”
With the holiday finally over, Fisher heads back to the flat he shares with a colleague and sets about (following the necessary interference from the in-laws) re-establishing communication with Meg.
The Wikipedia page for Stanley Middleton tells of a journalistic stunt a few years ago; where someone sent the opening chapter of Holiday to a number of publishers and literary agents – and all but one rejected it. If that is true, I’m not certain what if anything that proves, or what the journalist was trying to prove. Tastes and fashions in literature change I suppose, but I can’t help but see it as a little bit spiteful, Middleton was still alive at the time.
I liked the way Middleton writes, his vision of the world and his eye for detail is sharp, very precise and beautifully rendered. Middleton gets underneath the skin of his characters in a very quiet but very real way, their hopes, fears and all that they are trying to escape are laid bare. Here Edwin is a man still grieving for his child, his emotions are numbed. Holiday is an excellent novel, a worthy Booker winner.
I think I began to see Middleton as a kind of male Brookner – one novel probably not enough to make that judgement, but I definitely want to read more.
heavenali 
This novel has been on my radar since I read a positive review in The Guardian last year. Judging by the quotes and your commentary, it seems to capture the period very effectively.
I think so. Certainly he captures the English holiday boarding house which although they still exist are very much of the period.
Like Jacqui I’ve had him in the background of that group of writers I’d like to get to read. Your review has pushed him up the list considerably! I see the blurb calls him the ‘Chekhov of suburbia’ – I thought that was John Cheever – but I prefer your comparison with Brookner, which seems more apt.
My Brookner comparison may be misleading it was just something which occurred to me.
I remember the piece about it being sent out. I have on a few occasions nearly brought this as it sound like a book I would enjoy the sort of retro holiday of years ago
It might be right up your street.
Being, obviously, older than you I read most of Middleton’s books as they come out and I’ve re-read a few. I respect your remark about his style being reminiscent of Brookner, but I think rather more happens in most Middletons.
We used to live about twenty miles from Nottingham and often saw Stanley Middleton at chamber music concerts and he often put music and musicians in his books which I really like; and now I’ve remembered! I once went to a talk by him: a lovely, unassuming and most interesting man, but I left in the middle of the question bit because everybody wanted to ask him about bl…y D H Lawrence.
I’m so glad you liked ‘Holiday’ and look forward to more Middleton reviews.
Yes I realised that one novel was not enough to make that judgement, it was just something which occurred to me as I read.
Fascinating – I’ve NEVER heard of him and now I think there must be people like that about lots of the authors we love.
I know I am always thinking that there must be so many authors out there I have yet to hear of. I am going to read more Middleton though.
I have never heard of Middleton. I do like the Booker winners, and can’t imagine how I never noticed him. I will add him to the TBR list, though we don’t have Windmill Press here.
That’s a shame, I know they are available as ebooks over here via Amazon.co.UK but maybe not in US. I would try the second hand sellers, good luck.
Soglad to find someone else who enjoyed this book. I could relate so well to the scenes in the boarding houses having spent many holidays as a child in similar places before we joined the exodus of those who went to Spain for their summer hols. Like you I’d never heard of this author
Yes, so very evocative. Really want to read more by him now.
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