Brilliant American author living & writing in Britain - Bill Bryson

Spouse and I lived in Britain in 1972 and 1973, and worked in a Herts hospital. American Bill Bryson (b1951) first visited Britain in 1973 and worked in a Sur­rey hospital. Bill married a local nurse in 1975, moved back to Des Moines in 1975 to complete his studies at Drake Uni, then re-set­­t­led in Britain in 1977. Mainly they lived in rural Hampshire.

The Road to Little Dribbling 

published 2015

Bryson travelled around Britain, to cele­brate the green and pleasant land that he called his own country. His book, Notes from a Small Is­l­and (1995), was the bestselling travel book ever, and one I loved. But he was rude. Remember the story in Notes in which Bryson was stuck in a train carriage with a railway enthusiast. The man went on endlessly, with Brys­on stoically enduring the boredom, at which point the mood ch­anged. Bryson learned the man's wife had died relatively recently, so he snapped: "Suicide, I would guess." How VERY rude!

Later, to mark the 20th anniversary of this classic, Bryson made a new journey round Britain (2015). Bryson again gave a perceptive insight into all that was best and worst about modern Britain in his book The Road to Little Dribbling (Double­day 2015). Following a spinal route from Bognor Reg­is on England’s south coast to Cape Wrath in the Scot­t­ish Highlands, Bryson set out to RE-discover the beautiful country that he once knew. Each village en route led him to a tale of intrigue, his­tory and goss­ip. And despite Britain’s occas­ion­al dil­em­m­as, Bryson was still in love with his country, even though he lamented a count­ry that had become ov­erly tolerant of stupid­ity. 

As in his previous outing, The NY Times described how Bryson used visits to historic sites like Runnymede and Sutton Hoo to reflect on the true and otherwise details of Britain’s past. An outing in the New Forest prompted a discussion of Arthur Conan Doyle’s spiritualism; in Oxford, he wrote the story of Roger Bannister when he saw the track where he ran the first sub-four-minute mile. He scanned the tranquillity of the Cornish fishing village of Mousehole and the sadly diminished down-market resort of Blackpool.

He was constantly complaining about rubbish, il­l­it­er­acy, poor mann­ers, mediocrities, rip-offs and talent­less celebrit­ies that infested the place since he first arrived back in the 1970s. But once again, see his matchless romp through the funn­iest, the most ridiculous and the most scandalous. The latest Bry­son travel­ogue him showed him to be older (64) and grumpier, just like any ol­d­er Brit­ish man. But read­ers will enjoy this just as much as earl­ier books.

Bill Bryson, Hampshire

2017

Bryson felt perfectly comfortable to gush, despite the cynical impulse of our times. At the same time, he was equally comfortable to unleash his inner killjoy: He wrote: Eastleigh appears to have been heavily bombed during WW2, though perhaps not heavily enough! Or later, desc­ribing a local bus: It was the sort of vehicle you would expect to be put on if you were being transferred between prisons. Rudeness popped into his head and out his mouth without censorship, which every Aust­ral­ian and New Zea­l­ander und­erstood. However I would call Antipodean humour iron­ic, and Brys­on’s humour sarcastic.

In May 2007, Bryson became the passionate president of the Campaign to Protect Rural England. There wasn’t a land­scape in the world that was more artfully worked, more lovely to behold, more comfortable to be in than rural Great Brit­ain, he said. His argument was won by sneaki­ness, with charm and learning. And he still lives in the UK.

A Campaign to Protect Rural England poster

While we are talking about Australia, Bryson travelled across this nat­ion, exploring from a tourist’s perspective and seeking to und­er­stand what made Australians unique. In book, Down Under (Random House 2001) was also funny. Even though Australians knew a lot about Austral­ian history, Bill Bryson’s persp­ective could be very mind-expanding. As with every American tour­ist I ever met in Australia, Bryson focused on the many dangers of native Aust­ralian animals and used this medium to ex­amine the classic ch­aracteristic of Australians, that of underst­ate­ment. While surfing in Sydney he asked his host “What about sharks?” The host responded “Oh it’s been ages since someone was killed by a shark; months at least”. 

Down Under 

published 2001

Bryson’s reaction to Australian under­state­ment reminded me how much we take our casual attitude for granted. Austral­ians sharks were part of our painful history, but we still went swim­ming! Only an outsider like Bryson showed us how unique (and stupid) we were. It was huge proof that it took an outsider to see the truth about our own country.