Book: Towards the End of the Morning by Michael Frayn

I became aware of Towards the End of the Morning through reading The Fleet Street Girls where I learned the author had worked at the Observer in the 60s.

A tale centred around the overlooked people in newspapers, those who put together the minor columns. In this case, Dyson (because men called each other by their surnames in the 60s) heads up a small department responsible for the crossword and nature notes.

John Dyson is always complaining about his workload, despite having little responsibility. He blames his writers for constantly failing to meet their deadlines. Bob Bell, his right-hand man, is only 29, but many believe he is capable of much more.

The other staff are the elderly Eddy Moulton and later newcomer, Morris whose answer to everything is “sure, sure”.

• Everyone has been to Cambridge.

• Everyone drinks for most of the day

• No one gets fired.

This last note is likely referring to the influence of unions in the industry, as workers who would hang around even if there was not much work to do. They felt secure in their jobs due to the power of the unions. The book mentions men (obviously there would be no women in the early 60s) standing around vans, drinking tea and waiting for bundles of papers to arrive so they could be loaded.

In my early 90s days, we still had the couriers who had to hand around receptions in case they were needed. Then the internet happened.

Possibly the more interesting characters are the wives and girlfriends, all seemingly bored at home.

I'm surprised that the book was written in the 1960s. Although it is set during that time, the writing style appears more modern as each character is allowed to speak for themselves. The smell of Brylcreem, alcohol and smoke is palpable.

The book says this is the beginning of the end of Fleet Street and I felt that time came in the 1980s, just before I worked there in 1990. Then many newspapers were still in the neighbourhood despite the Times/News International’s big move to Wapping.

But to someone who was there in the 1950s Fleet Street’s heyday had already been.

I took a gamble and took this for inflight reading for the trip to Athens and I’m glad I did. This should be made into a TV series.