Showing posts with label 1957. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1957. Show all posts

Sunday, 19 June 2016

The Last Road Race - Richard Williams

Whilst sifting through numerous old books on my shelves, I came across "The Last Road Race", by Richard Williams, originally published in 2004, which tells the story of the 1957 Pescara Grand Prix.

The premise of the book is that the race represented the closing of an era, in that it was the last World Championship Grand Prix to be staged on a particular type of circuit, and in a certain set of conditions. It is a compact work, packed with details and anecdotes, and it contains several evocative passages.

Only a relatively small proportion of the book is actually taken up with the Pescara race itself.  Much of the space is given over to scene-setting, with portraits of some of the key participants in the event, and analysis of the key trends which determined its outcome, such as the emergence of the British constructors.  In some ways, "The Last Road Race" also functions as a brief history of motor racing in the period up until 1957, a chronicle of how that point had been reached.



The tenor of the era comes through, such as the more relaxed, informal feel of less regimented times and even through the improvised arrangements for travel, accommodation and so forth. There are some amusing stories about these aspects.

Much of the story revolves around Stirling Moss, either directly or indirectly.  Whenever I read anything about Moss, my admiration for the man rises. His professionalism, his talent and his energy combined to make him a compelling study.  There is some illuminating material how about how he organized himself, and how his approach differed from some of his peers. Moss comes across as a transitional figure on more than one level.

In addition to Moss, another person who impresses is Tony Brooks. An intriguing character, whose opinions and frank observations about racing and life are always worth reading.

I discerned quickly that the drivers had varying views about racing, their motives and their anxieties. Some were at home on the classic, perilous natural road courses, and bemoaned the sterility which later infiltrated the sport. Others were candid in expressing their unease about some of the conditions which they raced under.  Less romantic than some of their contemporaries, they were more pragmatic and business-like. Not everyone later complained unfailingly that things were better in their day.

From today's vantage point, the 1950s feel like a fabulous period for racing. Post-war optimism and renewal, the rise of the British drivers and teams, and the beginnings of technological upheaval, overlapped with the remnants of the pre-war age. This book manages to capture much of that atmosphere and excitement.

The actual competitiveness of the racing was often lacking, but the spectacle was enticing, and that seemed to be enough. It was real theatre, this dimension being heightened by the greater contribution of the driver, and the manner in which that contribution was more immediately visible.  Yes, some things in today's world are better, but those far-off days had an innocence and a raw drama about them.

Also, the media and the public did not constantly agonize about "the show", and subject it to minute scrutiny. In some respects the audience, and expert observers, had a more nuanced and sophisticated view. Attention spans were longer, and there was less pressure to pander to some perceived requirement to "entertain".

In 1957, the world was already beginning to change, but old-world courtesies lingered, and some timeless values were scrupulously observed. The drivers from that era were a diverse but likeable and noble group. They were not perfect, and had their flaws like all of us.

"The Last Road Race" is an enjoyable and stimulating document on a place and a time, written with enthusiasm and some style.






Saturday, 3 October 2015

On The Road - Jack Kerouac - book review

"On The Road", the classic 1957 novel by Jack Kerouac, had been residing on my bookshelves for some time, pleading to be read. To my shame, I have hardly read any "Beat" literature, and was therefore a little unsure what to expect.

In a nutshell, "On The Road" tells the story of Sal Paradise (the narrator, and based on Kerouac himself) and his friends as they embark on various journeys and trips across America. It is semi-autobiographical, and other characters are based on Kerouac's friends and associates. The tale is set primarily in the late 1940s.

To grasp the essence of this novel, it is necessary to understand the mindset of the colourful characters, in particular that of Dean Moriarty, Sal's friend and regular travelling companion. They habitually operate outside what would be considered social norms. The fact that their outlook still seems outlandish is perhaps a sad commentary on twenty-first century life. Are we still, deep down, so conformist?

The "Beat" concept is somewhat nebulous at the best of times, and must appear even more so with our modern modes of communication and discourse, and their tendency to polarize so many things. The lifestyles appear dissolute, but the joie-de-vivre of Dean and the others is enticing. Some of the behaviour detailed in "On The Road" must bemuse even self-proclaimed free spirits. The effect is perhaps more acute because these events are meant to have occurred not long after World War 2, in a period when we are told that most people were craving stability and security.

The fact that this book has a narrator is an aid to keeping track of the characters and their numerous trials, tribulations, revelations and relocations. One of the surprising things to newcomers is that this story is not one of a single journey or trip, but a series occurring over several years, with other events sandwiched in between.

Along the way, we meet a number of engaging and fascinating figures, and learn about their encounters with our "heroes". Many of these episodes are touching and poignant. Some are vignettes, others are more protracted and in-depth. The sadness and harshness of lives, but also the richness and vitality of our world and the human experience. The occasional craziness does not totally obscure the genuine pathos. What also emerges is an affinity for sub-cultures, for the marginalized and the downtrodden.

Whilst reading "On The Road", I was reminded that it would have been easier to pursue these adventures back in those days, when the world was not so weighed down by regulations and bureaucracy. The title "On The Road" does not just denote a journey, but a way of life, a world-view and an ongoing quest. The "unconventional" existence being led by these people was also a strikingly simple one. Straight society struggles to comprehend that it makes its own life complicated and burdensome.

The conduct of the circle becomes more exuberant and far-out once Dean Moriarty fully re-enters the fray. The prose grows more poetic and evocative, and the stream-of-consciousness a more frequent feature.

The outlook of some characters, such as Old Bull Lee, might surprise or confuse a few people. Explicit social commentary is offered only sparingly, and is not always about "obvious" topics. The reluctance to take the easy option is one of the most noticeable things about this novel.

It seemed that in this book, Kerouac acquired the knack of imbuing the mundane with drama and nobility, and of placing the everyday alongside the esoteric and the exotic. The "cameos", involving hitch-hikers and other people met along the routes, add charm and variety, and help to form the tapestry, as well as telling us more about the impulses driving the main players.

In amongst the euphoria and the exhilaration which the participants met on their travels, there were periods of disenchantment and despair, when "home", in its conventional sense, seemed the best place to be after all. In between the trips, acquaintances were renewed and the changes absorbed.

Personally, I could take or leave the lengthy passages extolling the virtues of various jazz musicians, and of the source and impact of their artistry, but I accept that they are important in forming an understanding the world of Dean, Sal and company.

Criminality raises its head more and more as the story progresses. They may have been testing the boundaries, but were they in reality flagrantly breaching them? A theme which gradually predominates is the decision of people to shun and ostracize Dean. Of course, Sal was not one of these. I identified with Sal more than I did with Dean, but Dean's story is admittedly more heart-rending, vibrant and eventful.

The chapters set in Mexico are the most stimulating, and in some respects the centrepiece of the whole story. Mexico as a metaphor for the promised land, what these people have been searching for? Needless to say, the ultimate outcome is rather ambiguous.

One of the lessons which I detected in the pages of "On The Road" is that however dismal and monotonous things may appear, there is always something good just around the corner, and there is plenty to relish and savour in the "here and now". Much of the problem is one of perception, and how we have been conditioned to think and approach our lives and the world around us. Life is a never-ending cycle...

This is a novel which it is possible to read quite quickly, as it has a flow to it, and does not compel the reader to take in every semi-colon and comma. Not quite what I was expecting, in all honesty, but equally I enjoyed "On The Road" more than I had anticipated.