The first courses I taught when I became a lecturer were on ways of life in the countryside. My doctoral thesis had considered how the growth of tourism affected village life, using areas in Switzerland and Italy as exemplars. When it came to looking at what was happening in the English countryside I was impressed by a number of in-depth studies of particular villages, showing how rapidly change was occurring in the 1970s. One book, by Peter Ambrose, was entitled The Quiet Revolution and looked at change in the Sussex village of Ringmer over a 100 year period. Another was The End of Tradition by John Connell, dealing with communities in central Surrey. The theme of these, and other, books (for example on communities in Lincolnshire, Hertfordshire, Suffolk, and in the Lake District) was that ways of life that had endured for decades or even centuries were coming to an end.
Two particular tendencies were apparent in these studies. Firstly, where in the past a small number of landowners had held sway over most aspects of village life, there was now a form of 'democratisation' bringing a wider set of interests into play. This, of course, was in large part brought about by the reduction in the scale of agricultural employment. But the second tendency was for an increasing influx of residents who had no prior connection with the village, or with the land, and who were predominantly urban in their backgrounds, their employment and their social lives. I heard Peter Ambrose lecture about his book, and in that he argeud that the pace of change had been greater in the 40 years from the 1930s to the 1970s than at any other period, but that things were now stabilising with a new regime.
I first visited Alfriston in Sussex at the age of 10 on a 'school journey' that had my class staying nearby. I have become reacquainted with it over the last three years or so. Coincidentally it is very near Ringmer - the village of Peter Ambrose's book. And it seems to me that Ambrose did not foresee the continued rapid evolution of a number of English villages over the ensuing period. Where Ambrose (and others) were describing places as adding a commuter function to their long-standing bases in agricultural and related sectors, the last 40 years have added a very significant 'leisure' function. And in some respects that has become the dominant sector in many villages. Castleton, in the Peak District, is an extreme case where there is now no shop selling ordinary foodstuffs, but instead every commercial premises caters to the tourist and day-trip market.
Alfriston is not so extreme. It is certainly one of the prettiest villages I know anywhere in the UK, with a narrow village street lined with half-timbered buildings, a flint-built church set on a large green (the 'Tye'), a small tidal river (the Cuckmere) bordered by well-marked footpaths and trails, and the South Downs cutting the horizon in most directions. Alfriston does still have a handful of shops catering for the neesds of local residents - a small newsagents, a ladies' hairdresser, and a general store cum post office. But the last of these stocks a range of produce (at prices) that are in large part aimed at the day visitor wanting a souvenir of their visit to the countryside. Beyond these three shops the other dozen or so must primarily be aimed at visitors - a specialist music shop, a second hand bookstroe with a specialism in books about the Bloomsbury Set, the headquarters of the sort of kitchen gadget shop where one scratches one's head as to what many of the items could possibly be used for, a couple of art galleries, a shop / display relating to a local vineyard, and a veritable cake-stand of tea shops. Of the three pubs, the two which offer accommodation are more frequented by visitors or those in search of 'gastro' meals. And the commercial activities of the village are rounded off by a 'restaurant-with-rooms' listed in the Good Food Guide, and a 'Good Hotel Guide' hotel.
It is a charming combination - for a visitor. After starting this note I saw that Alfriston was featured in the travel guide of the Guardian newspaper last Saturday (18th July 2015). But I'm not sure what it must be like for a local resident. I watched one of the local 'youths' in one of the pubs one evening - standing at the bar talking for an hour into a mobile phone because there was no one else to talk to: all the other customers were visitors eating fancy meals.
I guess many visitors would see Alfriston as an ideal place to live - as indeed it probably is for many of its residents: those with a good income, personal means of transport and so on. Yet in the overall ranking in 2010 of deprivation levels across over 32000 local areas throughout England there were 20163 areas that were more deprived than Alfriston - but that meant that 12319 were less deprived. In the 2011 census 55.5% of Alfriston households displayed some element of relative poverty against 52.3% for the south-east of England as a whole. The dimensions of deprivation or poverty show up clearly in the national data: Alfriston has an admirably low crime level, and high levels of overall education and health. But as in many rural areas access to services is very poor, and there are a perhaps surprising number of houses that lack central heating or are of poor quality in some other way. These are not things that affect the middle class commuters, or the leisure retirees, with their high levels of car ownership (37% of Alfriston households had two or more cars), but they do influence the life experiences of the 13% of households without a car and with dependence on an infrequent bus service to Eastbourne and Seaford.
I am not trying to 'knock' Alfriston - far from it: I think it is a delightful place. But the charms of Alfriston, and a thousand villages like it, mask some of the difficulties of rural living for a whole group of people - often those who have the longest roots in the locality.
Those studies of village life made 40 years ago could now be brought up to date. I suspect the period of democratization of village life those studies described has been overtaken by the strength of inward movement of newcomers, many of them of middle years or above and from reasonably well-off backgrounds. They are the new leisured class and indeed it is to the tune of leisure activities that Alfriston and other similar villages throughout England now dances.
But while I am using the metaphor of music I should also confess why I visit Alfriston every year. As part of that class valuing leisure activities I am here using the village as a base to attend the opera festival at nearby Glyndebourne. And I know that means that I am part of the cause of change in the village.
Two particular tendencies were apparent in these studies. Firstly, where in the past a small number of landowners had held sway over most aspects of village life, there was now a form of 'democratisation' bringing a wider set of interests into play. This, of course, was in large part brought about by the reduction in the scale of agricultural employment. But the second tendency was for an increasing influx of residents who had no prior connection with the village, or with the land, and who were predominantly urban in their backgrounds, their employment and their social lives. I heard Peter Ambrose lecture about his book, and in that he argeud that the pace of change had been greater in the 40 years from the 1930s to the 1970s than at any other period, but that things were now stabilising with a new regime.
I first visited Alfriston in Sussex at the age of 10 on a 'school journey' that had my class staying nearby. I have become reacquainted with it over the last three years or so. Coincidentally it is very near Ringmer - the village of Peter Ambrose's book. And it seems to me that Ambrose did not foresee the continued rapid evolution of a number of English villages over the ensuing period. Where Ambrose (and others) were describing places as adding a commuter function to their long-standing bases in agricultural and related sectors, the last 40 years have added a very significant 'leisure' function. And in some respects that has become the dominant sector in many villages. Castleton, in the Peak District, is an extreme case where there is now no shop selling ordinary foodstuffs, but instead every commercial premises caters to the tourist and day-trip market.
Alfriston is not so extreme. It is certainly one of the prettiest villages I know anywhere in the UK, with a narrow village street lined with half-timbered buildings, a flint-built church set on a large green (the 'Tye'), a small tidal river (the Cuckmere) bordered by well-marked footpaths and trails, and the South Downs cutting the horizon in most directions. Alfriston does still have a handful of shops catering for the neesds of local residents - a small newsagents, a ladies' hairdresser, and a general store cum post office. But the last of these stocks a range of produce (at prices) that are in large part aimed at the day visitor wanting a souvenir of their visit to the countryside. Beyond these three shops the other dozen or so must primarily be aimed at visitors - a specialist music shop, a second hand bookstroe with a specialism in books about the Bloomsbury Set, the headquarters of the sort of kitchen gadget shop where one scratches one's head as to what many of the items could possibly be used for, a couple of art galleries, a shop / display relating to a local vineyard, and a veritable cake-stand of tea shops. Of the three pubs, the two which offer accommodation are more frequented by visitors or those in search of 'gastro' meals. And the commercial activities of the village are rounded off by a 'restaurant-with-rooms' listed in the Good Food Guide, and a 'Good Hotel Guide' hotel.
It is a charming combination - for a visitor. After starting this note I saw that Alfriston was featured in the travel guide of the Guardian newspaper last Saturday (18th July 2015). But I'm not sure what it must be like for a local resident. I watched one of the local 'youths' in one of the pubs one evening - standing at the bar talking for an hour into a mobile phone because there was no one else to talk to: all the other customers were visitors eating fancy meals.
I guess many visitors would see Alfriston as an ideal place to live - as indeed it probably is for many of its residents: those with a good income, personal means of transport and so on. Yet in the overall ranking in 2010 of deprivation levels across over 32000 local areas throughout England there were 20163 areas that were more deprived than Alfriston - but that meant that 12319 were less deprived. In the 2011 census 55.5% of Alfriston households displayed some element of relative poverty against 52.3% for the south-east of England as a whole. The dimensions of deprivation or poverty show up clearly in the national data: Alfriston has an admirably low crime level, and high levels of overall education and health. But as in many rural areas access to services is very poor, and there are a perhaps surprising number of houses that lack central heating or are of poor quality in some other way. These are not things that affect the middle class commuters, or the leisure retirees, with their high levels of car ownership (37% of Alfriston households had two or more cars), but they do influence the life experiences of the 13% of households without a car and with dependence on an infrequent bus service to Eastbourne and Seaford.
I am not trying to 'knock' Alfriston - far from it: I think it is a delightful place. But the charms of Alfriston, and a thousand villages like it, mask some of the difficulties of rural living for a whole group of people - often those who have the longest roots in the locality.
Those studies of village life made 40 years ago could now be brought up to date. I suspect the period of democratization of village life those studies described has been overtaken by the strength of inward movement of newcomers, many of them of middle years or above and from reasonably well-off backgrounds. They are the new leisured class and indeed it is to the tune of leisure activities that Alfriston and other similar villages throughout England now dances.
But while I am using the metaphor of music I should also confess why I visit Alfriston every year. As part of that class valuing leisure activities I am here using the village as a base to attend the opera festival at nearby Glyndebourne. And I know that means that I am part of the cause of change in the village.
