Written in 1952, Hartley set the book in 1900 to capture a world before where everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, a time before the two world wars changed everything. As Hartley explains:
“I wanted to evoke the feeling of that summer, the long stretch of fine weather, and also the confidence in life, the belief that allâs well with the world, which everyone enjoyed or seemed to enjoy before the First World War . . . The Boer War was a local affair, and so I was able to set my little private tragedy against a general background of security and happiness.”
Source: Introduction to The Go-Between by Colm TĂłibĂn
In an introduction for the New York Review of Books, Colm TĂłibĂn captures some of the autobiographical aspects of the book:
The Go-Between has obvious autobiographical origins. In August 1909, for example, Hartley, who was staying with his school friend Moxey at Bradenham Hall in Norfolk, wrote to his mother, âI sleep with Moxey . . . and also with a dog, which at first reposed on the bed . . . On Saturday we had a ball, very grand indeed, at least, not very. We always have late dinner here. There is going to be a cricket-match today, the Hall against the village. I am going to score.â A year later, he wrote to his mother from Hastings, where he was visiting a Mrs. Wallis, who wanted him to stay an extra day âas she wants me to go to a party . . . You know I am not very fond of parties and I do want to come home on Tuesday. However, they have asked me to write to you and ask if you would mind my staying. I am enjoying myself here but I am sure we should both prefer me to be at home. Of course if you think it would be better for me to stay, write to me and say so; it is only for a day. But still, I do want to be at home again.â It is also clear from letters that the young Hartley, like Leo in The Go-Between, was not a good swimmer, though he was, like Leo, a good singer. Also, Hartley had worked as an army postman in the Great War and knew the thrill of delivering sought-after messages.
… In his book The Novelistâs Responsibility (1967), Hartley mused on the relationship between fiction and autobiography. He wrote that the novelistâs world âmust, in some degree, be an extension of his own life; its fundamental problems must be his problems, its preoccupations his preoccupationsâor something allied to them.â He also warned that while it is âunsafe to assume that a novelistâs work is autobiographical in any direct sense,â it is nonetheless âplausible to assume that his work is a transcription, an anagram of his own experience, reflecting its shape and tone and tempo.â
Source: Introduction to The Go-Between by Colm TĂłibĂn
Going beyond innocence, the book also touches on ideas of class, culture, memory and sexuality. As Ali Smith has touched upon, it is a book where there is always something beneath the surface.
It is a masterpiece of double-speak and secrecy, somehow both ambiguous and direct. It works a magic on obviousness, so that it becomes a novel about British embarrassment and embarrassing Britishness. It’s a book which subtly, almost mischievously, rejects subtlety: “the facts of life were a mystery to me, though several of my schoolfellows claimed to have penetrated it.” But couched and quiet at its centre is a whole other novel at a further level of knowing, innocence and unsaidness.
Source: Rereading: The Go-Between by LP Hartley by Ali Smith
On finishing the book, I was left with so many questions. For example, what exactly happened to Mrs Maudsley and how long had she had her suspicions? However, these are questions that we cannot and in someway should not actually know. In this way, there are things we must know that we cannot truly know.
Reading it, the seemingly naive innocence reminded me of J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye, Ian McEwan’s Atonement, and Macel Proust’s Swann’s Way. Here I am touched by something that Ali Smith wrote while reflecting on The Go-Between:
Books are, in essence, go-betweens, works which conjure rhythm and release across time and history, across places of familiarity and those foreign to us; and personally and individually, too, it’s all a going-between, for every person who picks up a book for a first, then a second, then a third time.
Source: Rereading: The Go-Between by LP Hartley by Ali Smith
I think that this ‘go-between’ relates as much to text-to-self, as it does to the idea of ‘text-to-text’. For example, The Go-Between had me rethinking and remembering Atonement, but I also wonder what it might be like to re-read Atonement while thinking about the influence of The Go-Between.
Commentary
It is a masterpiece of double-speak and secrecy, somehow both ambiguous and direct. It works a magic on obviousness, so that it becomes a novel about British embarrassment and embarrassing Britishness. It’s a book which subtly, almost mischievously, rejects subtlety: “the facts of life were a mystery to me, though several of my schoolfellows claimed to have penetrated it.” But couched and quiet at its centre is a whole other novel at a further level of knowing, innocence and unsaidness.
Source: Rereading: The Go-Between by LP Hartley by Ali Smith
The Go-Between is about books as much as it’s about memory. It’s a model of the importance of rereading (and God knows we treat books lightly â we wouldn’t, after all, expect to know a piece of music properly on just one listen), knowledge and innocence so much part of its structure as to make it a knowingly different book on revisiting. Above all, though, it is a text which works like a charm: books are, in essence, go-betweens, works which conjure rhythm and release across time and history, across places of familiarity and those foreign to us; and personally and individually, too, it’s all a going-between, for every person who picks up a book for a first, then a second, then a third time.
Source: Rereading: The Go-Between by LP Hartley by Ali Smith
Highlights
If my twelve-year-old self, of whom I had grown rather fond, thinking about him, were to reproach me: âWhy have you grown up such a dull dog, when I gave you such a good start? Why have you spent your time in dusty libraries, cataloguing other peopleâs books instead of writing your own? What has become of the Ram, the Bull, and the Lion, the example I gave you to emulate? Where above all is the Virgin, with her shining face and long curling tresses, whom I entrusted to youââwhat should I say?
I should have an answer ready. âWell, it was you who let me down, and I will tell you how. You flew too near to the sun, and you were scorched. This cindery creature is what you made me.
To my mindâs eye, my buried memories of Brandham Hall are like the effects of chiaroscuro, patches of light and dark: it is only with an effort that I can see them in terms of colour. There are things I know, though I donât know how I know them, and things that I can remember. Certain things are established in my mind as facts, but no picture attaches to them; on the other hand there are pictures unverified by any fact which recur obsessively, like the landscape of a dream. (pg. 28)
I was in love with the heat, I felt for it what the convert feels for his new religionâŠAnd without my being aware of it, the climate of my emotions had undergone a change. I was no longer satisfied with the small change of experience which had hitherto contented me. I wanted to deal in larger sums. I wanted to enjoy continuously the afflatus of spirit that I had when I was walking to Lord Trimingham and he admitted to being a Viscount. To be in tune with all that Brandham Hall meant, I must increase my stature, I must act on a grander scale. Perhaps all these desires had been dormant in me for years, and the Zodiac had been their latest manifestation.
Dimly I felt that the contrast represented something more than the conflict between Hall and village. It was that, but it was also the struggle between order and lawlessness, between obedience to tradition and defiance of it, between social stability and revolution, between one attitude to life and another. I knew which side I was on, yet the traitor in my gates felt the issue differently, he backed the individual against the side, even my own side, and wanted to see Ted Burgess pull it off. (pg. 124)
Nothing is ever a ladyâs fault; youâll learn that.
Lady-killer: what did that mean? I didnât like to ask too many questions. I did not think, however, Ted would kill Marian: Man-killer, that was what I had been afraid of. Now the fear had passed away, lost its reality with the rest of my life at Brandham Hall. I could scarcely believe that I had once felt I ought to warn Lord Trimingham of his peril. The ninth Viscount would never know that I had saved him from the fate of the fifth. By removing myself I had removed the danger: it was my master-stroke.
There have been many side-effects associated with the pandemic. One has been to jump into untouched classic literature, like Proust. Alternatively, some, such as Kevin Smokler, have suggested returning to a favourite artist, while others, like Colin Marshall, have discussed the process of choosing one artist and listening to each album, once a day for a week. I tried Proust in regards to literature, but like so many before me, waved the white flag after the first two books. Moving on, I decided to dive into an artist I thought I knew, but knew that I had never listened to deeply. The artist I chose was The Go-Betweens.
I am not exactly sure why I chose The Go-Betweens as my deep dive. I had always known The Go-Betweens, but was not sure I really knew The Go-Betweens. One thought was maybe Kriv Stendersâ documentary, Right Here. I initially watched this on ABC iView. I think that I was captured by the discussion of the myth that surrounds the band. Another thought was listening to Missy Higginsâ cover of Was There Anything I Could Do on her album of Australian covers, Oz. Lastly, I was left thinking about Damian Cowellâs comment on the Take 5 podcast:
Although Cowell was speaking about Custard, I could not help but think about The Go-Betweens.
The first question that needs addressing is who were or are The Go-Betweens? First, there is the name. David Nicholsâ captures some of origins in his book on the band. The obvious reference is to L.P. Hartleyâs novel The Go-Between, a story about Leo Coulston who is somewhat unknowingly entangled within an affair which leaves his life forever corrupted. However, some of the other ideas were that the music was a go-between ânight and dayâ:
Or between different styles of music:
Interestingly, coming back to Hartleyâs novel, Ali Smith describes it as a book about books:
Replacing the word âbooksâ with âmusicâ, maybe the The Go-Betweens are music or a band that go-betweens, across places familiar and foreign. In the end, the name seems to act as a catchall for whatever meaning listeners are willing to apply.
Going beyond the name, the narrative of the band seems just as disputed. The easy answer is to focus on myth surrounding the two songwriters, Grant McLennan and Robert Forster. They met while studying at University of Queensland, before deciding to form a band on Forsterâs behest. Interestingly, Foster was interested in creating a band as an idea:
Although many compare the partnership between Foster and McLennen as some sort of Australian Lennon and McCartney, there inspiration was as much groups like The Monkees and the âband as a flagshipâ:
However, The Go-Betweens story is far more complicated than a story about two songwriters.
In My Rock n Roll Friend, Tracey Thorn makes the case that The Go-Betweens are really a classic trio whose true story starts and finishes with Lindy Morrison.
Morrison was the drummer for much of the eighties, before McLennan and Forster dramatically pulled the pin on the band. She defied the âfantasies of a chic little French girlâ that Foster and McLennan may have intially had. Instead, she provided a particular edge and perspective.
In addition to Morrison, there are others, such as Amanda Brown, Robert Vickers and John Wilsteed, whose legacies served in making the band more than just a duo. Let alone the later additions of Adele Pickvance and Glenn Thompson when the band reformed in the late 90âs.
Although I listened to all the albums in order, I feel they can be organised into two groups. The original line-up featuring Morrison on drums ending with 16 Lovers Lane and the reformed line-up.
The Original Line-Up
Send Me a LullabyBefore HollywoodSpring Hill FairLiberty Belle and the Black Diamond ExpressTallulah16 Lovers Lane
Reformed Line-Up
The Friends of Rachel WorthBright Yellow Bright OrangeOceans Apart
I am not sure if it was because, out of all their albums, I had listened to 16 Lovers Lane the most, but listening to the early albums in more depth and detail felt a little like one of those word puzzles where you change one letter each step until the whole word has changed.
Send Me a Lullaby is an albums that feels like it is trying to find itself.
Beyond Hollywood adds hooks and texture to develop a more complete sound.
With Spring Hill Fair, gone is the contrast between fast and slow of their early albums. This is replaced with the attempt at a slicker pop sound.
Liberty Belle and the Black Diamond Express parks the technological experimentation, instead going for a more organic approach.
Tallulah is an experimentation in sound and texture. For me, it sounds like a search for the right formula, something of a âwhat ifâ album.
16 Lovers Lane trades in the funk grooves and distortion of Tallulah, instead replacing this with a bed of acoustic guitars. Although it is heavily produced, leading to some songs being difficult to reproduce live, it still feels subtle and subdued.
I find listening to the reformed albums, The Friends of Rachel Worth, Bright Yellow Bright Orange and Oceans Apart, interesting. There are the usual hooks and melodies, but no matter how much I listen, they do not gel like the early albums.
I wonder if they miss the âGo-Betweens dramaâ as Amanda Brown has put it or if a part of this disappointment is my own listening experience? I was left wondering whether maybe they missed the flourishes from the likes of Willsteed and Brown? I also wonder if there is something about getting six, seven and eight records in? This also left me thinking about the challenges in listening back through a whole catalogue? When asked about album reviews and music criticism, Caroline Polachek suggested that:
Maybe it just is not possible to listen to their later albums without comparing or even placing them within the context of their time.
One of the things that I found interesting about doing this deep dive is that growing up with the singles, it can be hard to appreciate evolution that I imagine most bands go through it. In addition to this, it provided a deeper appreciation of the music. Bopping along with the jangly guitar of their âstriped sunlight soundâ, with mentions of love and emotions, it is easy to be lulled into their music. However, to come back to Cowellâs point about anchovies, I found that digging into The Go-Betweens more akin to zucchini chocolate cake. When you move beyond the surface, there are often ingredients that surprise you. Maybe this is what made them what they were, while at the same time prevented them from ever quite making it into the mainstream.
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The Go-Betweens and the Case for Listening to a Complete Discography by Aaron Davis is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Each January, on the Sizzletown podcast, Tony Martin tides over the holiday season with an unplugged version. This involves going back through his movie diaries from the 80âs. Each listing includes the name of the film and a five star rating. The podcast is basically him making sense of these ratings. One of the things that I find while listening is how much the rating seems superfluous to the explanation as to why he provided the rating. Personally, I always find it hard while listening to music or reading books as to how you make a judgment call. Often I am more interested in different ideas and beginnings and how this all changes in time.
Back in 1997, I went with my step-sister to see Romeo and Juliet at Knox City. Before the film, we went to JB-HiFi. This was before it had been floated on the stock exchange and stores were still somewhat rare. In addition to inquirying about a mobile phone (something else rare at the time), my sister bought a Celine Deon CD. I on the other hand bought Double Allergic by Powderfinger. My sister was mystified. She had never heard of Powderfinger. As time passed, I am pretty sure she found out who Powerfinger were and for me they went on the back burner.
In her review of JP Hartleyâs novel, The Go-Between, Ali Smith argues that âbooks are go-betweensâ.
I would argue the music is the same. Different music, touches different people, at different times.
In Walter Benjaminâs essay âThe Task of the Translatorâ, he discusses the purpose of translation. Instead of conforming to the reader, the translator should conform to the source and target language of the work. The purpose is to highlight the relationship between the two languages, and how they complement each other. In his discussion of this, he gives the analogy of the tangent touching the circle:
I wonder if there is something in this âtangentâ? Each listener hears an artist at a particular point in time from a particular point of view, in some ways they translate it into their own world.
In Raymond Williamsâ Marxism and Literature, he talks about the notion of the âdominant, the risidual and the emergentâ. For Williams, culture is always in one of three phases. As WIlliamâ touches on:
Thinking about this idea in regards to my purchase of Powderfingerâs Double Allergic, this was clearly an emergent practice. They were on the up. Although they were popular, they were not popular enough to be a household name. For example, I did not jump onboard when they released Internationalist or Odyssey Number Fiver, their âpopularâ albums.
The question that remains with this is what about those who may have jumped onboard before? For example, what about those who bought into (as my friendâs brother did) the release of Parables for Wooden Ears or invested into them when they were playing covers in Brisbane?
As listeners, we are not only a part of a whole, but we are individuals as well. For me, we hear artists not only as a part of a particular moment in time, but also as a part of oneâs individual experiences. Personally, I often find myself seemingly late to the party. For example, I find myself stumbling upon an artist only to become mesmerised by their next release. I did this with Methyl Ethylâs Are You Haunted. I remember stumbling upon Jake Webb with the release of Triage, however Are You Haunted and I seemed to meet at the right moment. More recently, I had a similar experience with Kimbra. I had listened to and liked Primal Heart, but there is something about A Reckoning that met me at a particular moment.
So What about you? How do you go about âratingâ music or rating anything?
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Thoughts Listening to and Rating Music by Aaron Davis is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.