Big England No.3: by Jo Wood

Jo’s Comment Is Free writer's profile says only that she lives in Sevenoaks, has been published in Heat magazine, is a practising artist and “works at the Guardian.” Asked to elaborate she reveals that she studied art at glamorous St Martin's in London, previously worked at Arts Council England, is doing an OU Art History degree, used to have a tortoise, wears flip-flops frequently and gets claustrophobic if she isn't near the sea. She doesn't say any more about what she does at The Guardian. Oh, but the stories I could tell...

It wasn’t until I actually got away – physically fled the country - that I began to like, love even, this imperfect little island nudging slightly south east off the coast of Greenland. Brrr. I could write a nice balanced blog on why I love and hate it in equal measures, which I guess some days I do. But you can’t fix what’s wrong until you can see what’s right, and anyway, I’m just not the kind of person who seeks to define something by its negatives. Sure, I’d love the climate to be a little more tropical. Definitely I’d like it if I could afford a house here. Don’t even get me started on the government. In fact, the list of “fixables” is nigh-on endless. But everyone’s list is different, it will never be perfect for everyone. A perfect world? Matrix-esque, I think we’d go bonkers and “reject the programme”.

So, hang on to your pants, this is what’s good with England. It’s nothing to do with the raindrops on roses or whiskers on kittens. My favourite things are largely defined by what I missed when frolicking my way around Australasia. Like for instance, you don’t really notice how green it is when you’re living here. I’m being serious. It’s literally, physically, achingly, green; something, that after months of seeing dehydrated yellow-green outback, you yearn for. Like yearning for chocolate which isn’t so full of anti-melting ingredients (how its called chocolate at all is beyond me.)

And isn’t everything old?You get kind of used to it, living amongst it. But leave and come back, and be grateful you no longer have to stifle your sniggers when a two hundred year-old building is referred to as “ancient”. That’s practically modern, don’t-chu-know? You can walk down Saville Row and daydream your parallel-universe-self might have bumped into Oscar Wilde. The A303 to Cornwall is good for a bit of ancient stone-spotting in the guise of Stonehenge. I’ve driven past it so many times it’s become like an old friend I visit on my long trips to the South West. I give it a wave, text my dad “Stongehenge!” (an old tradition, don’t ask me why) and put my foot down in the hope that I might hit the coast before last orders.

But what really makes England England is its people. There’s just no getting away from it. Its raggedy bunch of cheery miserable talkative recluses makes England the island with the most eccentric, loveable bunch of people on the planet. The mix is constantly changing – not just with its wonderfully diverse cultures, colours, and religions, but through its youth. Each new generation seems to define English youth-ness in its own special way – the fashion, the language, the music, all integral parts of English culture, and each new generation helps to push the boundaries in each of these areas. Our youth has balls, and it always has.

But you don’t think twice about it, and that’s what it is to be English: to take for granted the best and the awesome, and focus on the half-emptiness; to be eccentric to the point where people are unsure whether they like you or not - and, sheesh, sometimes you wonder yourself! To like England is to accept all its oddness and curiosities, its mish-mash new-to-old architecture, cities living on top of countryside, farmyards next to motorways. We squeeze an awful lot into a small space, and a lot of people from pretty much everywhere. Which makes this a country to which everyone and anything belongs, and that can only be good thing.

Comments

[littlebear]

"raggedy bunch of cheery miserable talkative recluses"

Lovely piece. Thanks.

[Francis Sedgemore]

Lovely piece, Jo. But texting while driving? Use of mobile phones in cars is one of my least favourite things about England. In Scotland, the police actually enforce road traffic law, and using a mobile phone on the roads up there can lead to a spell in the stocks.

Talking of texting while on the road, I'll never forget when I was living in Denmark, and saw a texting cyclist in Copenhagen go smack into a lamppost! I'm ashamed to say that I found it rather funny at the time.

[Francis Sedgemore]

I should add that although I found the incident with the Danish cyclist funny, it could have had tragic consequences. So please go easy, Jo, and keep your eyes on the road, not the phone screen. Looking forward to your next article...

[pete d]

I can see that you love England dearly and seem to put the boot into Australia a little bit but I believe that when Febuary comes around you will be sick of the green of England and would do anything to be "down under" looking at their "yellow green outback" and eating anti dehydrating chocolate while sunbaking on Manly Beach.
I also agree with the others in that texting while driving is bad especially since I've seen you driving....