Recently, a poster called Steerforth wrote a comment on this blog about Lewes’ claim to to be the most middle class place in the UK:
“My home town of Lewes should be on the list for a number of reasons, but my chosen one is an event that took place a couple of years ago, when a group of Lewesians decided to close the streets and celebrate the life of former resident Thomas Paine…through the medium of dance. I think it was called something like the “Dance of Disobedience”. I love Lewes, but I draw the line at folk dancing.
I’ve been working with a friend on a theory that there are Ley Lines linking middle class towns and villages: Aldeburgh, Southwold, Dungeness, Whistable, Avebury, Hebden Bridge, Totnes, Forest Row etc. But I’m too lazy to develop it. The telltale signs include a market town profile, Liberal MP and absence of McDonald’s, but the coaltion government has probably changed that.”
Steerforth’s idea is excellent. Clearly I need to map these things out. It might be a good idea to try to produce an interactive googlemap soon.
I’m also very interested in this idea of middle class signifiers. It seems to me that the keystone must be Waitrose (or Booths in the North). Lewes, naturally, has one slap bang in the middle of its otherwise proudly brand-free centre.
A poster called Marina seconded Steerforth and provided the enlightening trivia nugget that there were “workshops for the ‘Dance of Disobedience’, advertised in Viva Lewes. This in turn prompted Steerforth to append the following discussion from a recent issue of the magazine:
Question – “What did you have for breakfast?”
Answer – “I had baked millet and quinoa with steamed chicory and seaweed. And a cup of sage tea. My daughter had blueberries, yoghurt and nuts.”
About which, little needs be said.
I have further evidence. Since Steerforth and Marina are both in the catchment area for Viva Lewes, they probably take for granted the fact that the town name isn’t pronounced “Loos”, but “Lewis”. Anyone who does confuse the town with toilets is thus immediately marked out as an outsider. That’s to say someone who probably wouldn’t know how to eat an avocado pear, or order from ocado. Which is another good way of proving how middle class the place is. The most middle class town near my home in Norwich is called Wymondham. Pronounced Wind-ham. And there’s the biggest Waitrose I’ve ever seen on the way in there… But that’s another story.
Back to Lewes. Intrigued by Steerforth and Marina’s posts I did a bit of internet research (Okay, just wikipedia, but the information there was so rich I needed go no further). Pretty much the first thing I learned was that the town was built on the site of an old Roman settlement called Mutuantonis. Do you know what that means? You don’t? Oh dear.
I also discovered that the lucky Lewes residents are able to relax during summer months at the oldest freshwater lido in the UK. Lidos are very important to the middle classes. So much a better way of going swimming. It’s lovely because the pools are longer and you can look up at the sky as you swim on your back. Okay the water’s a bit cold, but that’s invigorating and they’re social spaces as well. It’s so great with all those people sitting around peacefully without the need for alcoholic drinks… Yes, you’re right. I never go to them either. But the idea of their presence is wonderfully reassuring.
Importantly, the wikipedia entry (which sometimes, understandably enough, reads like a propaganda missive from the town tourist information office) also mentioned that there are numerous pleasant countryside walks around Lewes. Again, such healthful outdoors attractions are important as they give you the excuse to purchase brightly coloured gore-tex clobber, Brasher boots and to dream of all the walking you could do in them.
I also learned some good facts about the Lewes economy. These I will paste below and in a different font in case you don’t share my enjoyment of a good stat:
“In 2001 the service industries were by far the biggest employers in Lewes: over 60% of the population working in that sector. A little over 10% are employed in manufacturing, mostly in the smaller industrial units, particularly those in The Mallings Business Centre.
“The town is a net daytime exporter of employees with a significant community working in London and Brighton whilst it draws in employees of the numerous local government and public service functions on which its local economy is strongly dependent.”
“The Lewes Chamber of Commerce represents the traders and businesses of the town.[25] The town has been identified as unusually diversified with numerous specialist, independent retailers, counter to national trends toward ‘chain’ retailers and large corporate retail outlets.”
In case you did skip, what that means in a nutshell is that few people in Lewes get their hands dirty. I’d also be interested to learn what the people in those industrial units do. If a healthy proportion of them don’t involve pottery, crafts, ‘art’ and/or bike repairs I will post a video of myself eating a print out of these very words as my next post on this blog. It’s also worth noting how many people commute from Lewes. The hours we middle classes spend stuck in cars and on trains are vital contributors to the gradual decline from idealism and hope we all suffer. It’s those long hours listening to other people’s ringtones or jockeying for position at roundabouts that make us hate our fellow man enough to turn into ageing bitter Tories.
On the subject of which the political element in Lewes’ history does cause a few issues relating to its middle class status. Or at least, defines it as a very particular type of middle class town. The type inhabited by people whose collective term is “Guardianista.” Lewes, you see, has a bit of revolutionary history. One that is far enough in the past to make it almost entirely safe. No chance of flying bricks interrupting your evening gin and tonic out on the decking. But still enough of a whiff of subversion to annoy our friends (okay, enemies) on the right.
First, there’s all that business with the bonfire. Burning the Pope is not what my mum would call ‘nice’. Seeing himself go up in flames in cardboard form is probably more than the current incumbent deserves, but still there’s a bit too much Bacchus there for the Daily Mail types.
And then there’s the aforementioned Thomas Paine, the renowned pamphleteer, scourge of royalty, voice of the common man and author of The Voice Of Reason.
Lewes has really played hard on the Thomas Paine connection. An entirely sensible thing to do in terms of attracting the American tourist dollar, and commemorating an astonishing fellow. But such promotion might not sit easily with the non-Guardian-reading elements of the middle class. I know, because not too long ago, I visited Thetford, a town that would be otherwise unremarkable, if a certain Thomas Paine hadn’t been born and spent most of his formative years there. Arguably far more important years than the ones he spent in Lewes, although Thetford has been far less keen to capitalise. There is, at least, this statue:
But when this statue was first mooted in the 1960s, a Tory town councillor declared it “an insult to the town” and tried to stop its erection. When that failed, his council tried to get an inscription about Paine being a “traitor” engraved alongside the current inspiring inscription: “My country is the world, my religion is to do good.”
I suppose that proves it takes all sorts to make even a privileged and comfortable middle class world. I’m still open to persuasion about Lewes though, alongside a significant hankering to take a holiday there….
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