The George Garrett Archive Project

 Module Three. Workshop Two 

On The Parish. 1926 – 1939. 

From Seaman to Writer to Advocate.

In a continuation of a landmark series of introductions, both discussing and contextualising George Garrett’s life and work, Tony Wailey this week began by exploring how extreme financial dogmatism permeated the period of the 1920’s and 1930’s. Nowhere is this seen better than the great crash of 1929, which draws the world into its vortex. Britain had returned to the Gold Standard of 1913 in the hope it would return the country to pre-war prosperity. Wall Street crashes under a surfeit of credit. In 1932 an incredible 50% of mortgages were broken. Out of the country’s debt of $6.5bn $1.9bn was on motor cars. In the US everything had been put on the consumer boom, white goods and cars – consumer durables.

The crash impacted upon Britain, with imports becoming expensive, though this was lessened by the UK’s ability, in certain areas, to exploit its own internal market with the growing popularity of white goods and consumer durables among its growing, primarily southern, urban economy. However, the impact upon Germany, Austria, and other central European economies, which had been bankrolled by the US after the crashes of 1924, these countries forced into short-term borrowing for long-term projects, was devastating as the US began to call in its loans. Inflation soon becomes almost uncontrollable, with a major impact upon the value of the German Mark. It was only now that the notion of financial orthodoxy began to be challenged.

At first the Labour Gov’t didn’t fare as badly as expected; it passed the Housing Act of 1931 and embarked upon a far reaching building project to meet the needs of the new urbanisation. This led to developments such as Gerard Gardens in Liverpool. However, this was blown off course as the effects of the Wall St. crash continued to ripple out across the globe.

In 1922, when George Garrett and masses of others were marching across the country, 1.1 million people were unemployed. Between 1929 and 1932 this rose to 3m. However, such was the impact of the defeat of the General Strike of 1926 that this rise in unemployment was met with despair rather than militancy, and any treks across the country had long since turned into crusades rather than marches, denoting a move away from militancy of the 20’s to the resigned mood of the 30’s.

The employing class continued the offensive they had begun before, during and after the General Strike, and punitive measures were dished out to both those within and those out of work. For the unemployed these measures were particularly harsh; the ‘Genuinely Seeking Work’ clauses in the unemployment legislation was used as a stick to both beat the unemployed and keep them in check. Dole camps, which represented little more than hard labour, were just another feature of the problems faced by those out of work, and people were virtually ‘huddling down’ to a life on the dole. Walter Greenwood’s seminal novel, Love On the Dole, is published in 1933.

This period represents the longest time that George was without work – little more than a week in five years, as, added to the general problems faced by the unemployed, George was also well-known as a militant figure whose movements are under constant surveillance by the CID, a leader, and one who would always be the last to get the nod if any work was available.

Although conditions in Liverpool are as bad as anywhere else, the city was not designated as a distressed zone or special area, due to the fluidity of the port, with the idea that there would always be some sort of casual work available. However, with 139,000 livelihoods out of a population of over 600,000 in some way dependent upon the port, and shipping suffering with imports and exports falling, there is no doubt that the population suffered extreme distress.

An indication of the fear of the dole was Liverpool Labour leader Jack Braddock’s refusal to accept the nomination for a parliamentary seat on the basis that it could prove temporary. Jack had worked in insurance for ten years and feared dropping back below the bread line. If you were in work during this period you could survive. Cinemas were cheap, as was gambling, food and drink, and often clothing too.

Author and biographer of Bessie Braddock, Millie Toole, talking about seeing George Garrett ‘sauntering along as only George Garrett can, just watching’, seems to sum up George’s attitude at this time. He watches and observes. He’s far from idle, consistently acting as an advocate for those battling their way through the relief and rates boards, and he even stands as an independent candidate for the Brunswick ward in the local elections of 1928, however, he is clearly beginning to ‘write himself out’ of things, taking a step backwards, and turning once again to his craft of writing.

          SWORDS  INTO PLOUGHSHARES

At last the great day arrived. The Chief emerged from his room in full regalia. One hand hidden to the wrist in the breast of his tunic, the long sword trailing from his heels, the imposing figure strutted aft. Wise members of the crew, catching a glimpse of him, dodged clear, one of them remarked later in the stokehold, after poking a heavy slice-bar in six fires, 'We get enough bleeding gymnastics without playing boy scouts with that barmy fucker.' His mates agreed and kept out of the way. 

The donkey-man, Mangor, was not so lucky.'' Eight to twelve was his duty - and this was the Chief’s watch, though he seldom visited the engine-room. This suited Mangor for he disliked being pestered, but something went wrong with one of the engine bearings and he to seek advice. Ascending the poop-ladder, he stopped to study the Chief. The sight of him revived bitter memories. Mangor had soldiered in scattered parts.

The development of new magazines – The Adelphi, New Writing, The Penguin imprint, etc. that suddenly spring up in the 1930’s, coupled with the Mass Observation movement and a new interest in working class writers, gives Garrett his chance. His key themes are Justice, Identity and advocacy, of puncturing pomposity and celebrating often small, individual victories, acts of revenge, of the small man such as Mangor the donkey-man in ‘swords into Ploughshares’ getting one over on the ship’s deranged captain. It’s significant that the mass movement has disappeared from his stories and reportage. This is the politics of the parish pump.

However, it’s still a major struggle to find the time to write. With five young sons in a cramped tenement, he has to get out to find a place to be on his won. But his popularity, coupled with his wealth of knowledge and inability to turn anyone away, means that he cannot even got to the library to work as he is constantly approached for advice and support about relief, other benefits, seamen still missing, etc, etc.
That he not only manages to write, but sees his work published alongside some of the major literary figures of the day, Isherwood, Auden, etc., is a testament to his skill and his determination.

Blog created and written by Mike Morris & Tony Wailey, based upon a series of introductions by Tony Wailey to the George Garrett Archive course.

The George Garrett Archive project workshops are free and open to all. We meet every Monday, 6-8pm in Liverpool John Moores University’s Aldham Robarts Library, Maryland Street, L1 9DE (off HopeStreet).