A Vision of Wellington - Wellingtons Walking With Giants

Philip Larkin’s formative years in Wellington are increasingly recognised as a key period in his development as a writer. Yet, his relationship with the town where he was a librarian for nearly three years is, to put it bluntly, mired in negativity — largely as a consequence of the man himself! Evidence continues to emerge, however, of a more nuanced picture of the time spent in his ‘erstwhile prison’, not least in the form of a recent find from the other side of the country.

Hull History Centre holds the principal collection of papers from Philip Larkin’s estate. Among the thousands of documents that comprise this scholarly treasure trove, noted Larkin authority Dr Philip Pullen recently uncovered a pair of press clippings from the pages of the Wellington Journal and Shrewsbury News, once Shropshire’s leading newspaper. Saved for posterity by Larkin himself, they shine new light on the oft-received wisdom that he ‘hated’ the town. This notion gained traction with the publication of a posthumously-published volume of selected letters in the 1990s that cast his one-time home in a less than favourable light! Since then, numerous documents have emerged challenging this view, and the latest adds further weight to the idea that the poet-librarian’s relationship with Wellington was more complicated than previously thought.

And Then I Awoke

The backdrop to Larkin’s first eighteen months of employment at Wellington Library, where he arrived for his first job in December 1943, was one of wartime austerity. Nevertheless, by early 1944 at least one local resident was casting an eye to the future, and took to the letters page of the Wellington Journal to deliver a manifesto dedicated to the town’s post-war renewal. Among a raft of progressive proposals envisioned by the correspondent, known simply as ‘JC’, there existed a plan for the advancement of the “cultural side of the town”: through the addition of new books at the public library, the weight of which, opined the writer, should be given over to non-fiction titles.

Reference to a 1937 Wellington and District Directory finds the Free Library optimistically described as offering “abundant scope to those who desire culture” but the truth it seems was far removed! Indeed, JC’s clarion call for action was answered swiftly in the following week’s edition by ‘E Leake’ who pointed out that a programme of renewal was already underway — thanks to a local council grant of £100 for the purchase of new books and periodicals. That funding followed the submission of a report by the “recently-appointed librarian” who, while scathing of the library’s antiquated stock, had noted not only the relatively high number of young people using the facility but also the amount of ‘book-hungry readers’ for whom, he would later admit, he “could never stop trying.” In his reply, Leake was keen to impress that the new librarian was “eager to receive suggestions for additions to the stock of books”, and if that sounds uncharacteristic of the curmudgeonly Larkin of legend, what then follows is even more remarkable!

And Then I Awoke

Reference to a 1937 Wellington and District Directory finds the Free Library optimistically described as offering “abundant scope to those who desire culture” but the truth it seems was far removed! Indeed, JC’s clarion call for action was answered swiftly in the following week’s edition by ‘E Leake’ who pointed out that a programme of renewal was already underway — thanks to a local council grant of £100 for the purchase of new books and periodicals. That funding followed the submission of a report by the “recently-appointed librarian” who, while scathing of the library’s antiquated stock, had noted not only the relatively high number of young people using the facility but also the amount of ‘book-hungry readers’ for whom, he would later admit, he “could never stop trying”. In his reply, Leake was keen to impress that the new librarian was “eager to receive suggestions for additions to the stock of books”, and if that sounds uncharacteristic of the curmudgeonly Larkin of legend, what then follows is even more remarkable!

Not Dreaming

The previous week’s vision of Wellington had inspired a second reader to get in touch and, printed beneath E Leake’s response, was another missive concerning the improvements at the library — from Larkin himself! Confirming the “process of acquiring an up-to-date non-fiction section” had begun, the fledgling librarian assured JC that despite limited funds and book supplies “he was not dreaming as far as Wellington public library was concerned” and while “it will not enlarge at a phenomenal rate… nevertheless, it has started and it will grow.” Displaying a level of enthusiasm somewhat at odds with the widely-held view of his days spent serving-up “tripey novels to morons” in a “hole of toad’s turds”, he even went so far as to offer an invitation, stating:

“I should be pleased to welcome JC at any time he cares to see how it is progressing.”

Whether the meeting took place, we do not know. That the work did progress is evidenced by the dramatic increases in readership and loans that occurred over the following weeks and months, as Larkin helped transform the once moribund institution into the type of vibrant cultural centre of JC’s dreams — which is more than can be said for the new town hall, bandstand and reconstruction of the town’s narrow streets he also envisaged! In fact by the time he left, in August 1946, Larkin was convinced he would probably never do a job so well again, although his reputation as a librarian is such that would seem unlikely. Nonetheless, what this newly-found correspondence does indicate is a level of professional pride atypical of the popular image of the poet’s acquiescence to “the toad work”, and both Larkin and Wellington had cause to be thankful for it!