"Few of them were to be trusted within reach of a trowel and a pile of bricks." P. G. Wodehouse

This post continues, as I promised, the subject of the bricks of New Lynn.

Today's quote comes from a writer who has given me many hours of pleasurable reading. More about him, and how he fits into my posts about bricks, at the end. 

 I'm sorry that the writing on this plaque doesn't show. It says that this is the actual gatepost of a brick works that sported a 45 meter chimney. 



I've been talking mainly about bricks in these posts, but mentioned that pipes were also made when I showed a picture of the memorial in the previous post. Obviously though, if you have clay available in an area, fine pottery must also develop as a product. This Crown Lynn museum is right next to the Ambrico Kiln and shows many examples of what was produced. 

It is difficult to find examples of Crown Lynn pottery, but Allie owns a teacup...   A new goal of mine is to keep my eyes open for any new pieces to add to her collection. 

 Some of the styles on display at the museum.

...And other products as well. 

 Ambrico place is very different today than it must have been generations ago, during the heyday of the brick-making industries. Then, coal-fired kilns ruled the landscape and coal-dust, brick-dust, dirty men, horses, waggons and road apples must have filled the landscape. 

Today, Ambrico Place is filled with Art Deco style apartment buildings, cars and clean streets. See for yourselves.

In the center of Ambrico Place is Ambrico Reserve. (Park) 

 The playground here stands next to this brick labyrinth. (the grass needs mowing.)

Across a road from the area of apartments and park I've just shown you, St. Andrews Sunday School Hall stands abandoned.  It is the only structure in an area of about 50 or 60 acres. I learned just recently from the curator of the pottery museum that this undeveloped site is the clay pit that has been feeding the brick works of the area all this time. I don't know St. Andrews fate, but it doesn't appear that restoration is being considered.  

 'Jan. 19, 1929'

'Land donated by NZ Brick and Tile Co.' 

You know, I am lucky that I can remember many moments in my life when I experienced a "first." I remember my first anchovy pizza. (good story, that) I remember my first shot of scotch. And I remember the day I was in the Escanaba Public Library and browsing, saw a book entitled, No Nudes is Good Nudes. It was written by P. G. Wodehouse. What a great first-read from that author. His name has been significant to me ever since.

So, what does he have to do with bricks?  

Well, when I did my first post about New Lynn, I said that I could think of four songs off the top of my head that had something to do with bricks. What I didn't say then, was that I could also think of an author who talked a lot about bricks, or portions thereof, in many of his works. P. G. Wodehouse was that English author.  

What better way (in my opinion) to conclude this post, than to acquaint you with someone who clearly considered the brick to be indispensable as a tool for social and interpersonal comment.   

Here are a few quotes from his books...  (font changes reflect the source from which I copied)

In Summer Moonshine; "Whatever may be said in favour of the Victorians, it is pretty generally admitted that few of them were to be trusted within reach of a trowel and a pile of bricks."^[11]

(He was apparently commenting derisively here on Victorian Architecture)

In PSmith, Journalist;

 "We want a man of thews and sinews, a man who would rather be hit on the head with a half-brick than not."

In The Small Bachelor;

If you threw a brick from any of its windows, you would be certain to brain some rising young . . . Vorticist sculptor or a writer of revolutionary vers libre. 's And a very good thing too. (7)

In The Heart of a Goof;

"I would like to bean her with a brick, and bean her good. .."

In Very Good Jeeves;

"...which was that of a cat which has just been struck by a half-brick and is expecting another shortly..."

In Brinkley Manor;
" But honestly, old thing, you could fling bricks by the half-hour in England's most densely populated districts without hitting one girl willing to become Mrs. Fink-Nottle without a general anesthetic."

And one of his favorite insults;
"A dumb brick of the first water."

I know that there are many, many more action scenes in his books involving bricks. He's written more than 90 books after all. Plus short stories and plays. (I'm not aware that any of the characters in his plays ever found themselves, fortunately, at either end of a brick.)

My suggestion is that you find a P. G. Wodehouse book and give it a try. I'm the only one I know who finds his writing palatable. But I think I'm in good company nonetheless. I notice that the section of Wodehouse in the local library is practically always empty. And he has been described, "as arguably the greatest writer of comic prose, ever."  That's high praise. In fact, in my opinion the adverb used above should have been unarguably. 

And the guy knows his bricks. That much is obvious. I don't think he ever set foot in New Lynn during it's best brick-making days, but if he had I'm sure he would have bent over and filled his pockets with a few good chunks, just in case he came across a Vorticist sculptor, a revolutionary, a girl who deserved it*, or a cat*.

I hope the library in New Lynn is full of his stuff. I'll think I'll have a look, take out a book and sit on the 'brick' bench (from the last post) to read it. Fitting, don't you think?      -djf


* I find it interesting that Wodehouse wrote many of his stories, some of which include flinging bricks around, during a time when, in America, the Krazy Kat newspaper cartoon was running. In it, a mouse named Ignatz, who Krazy secretly loves, constantly hurls bricks at Krazy's head. Krazy, true to his name, misinterprets these actions as proof of Ignatz's love. Wodehouse greatly admired America and actually lived there for quite a bit of his later life. I wonder if this cartoon strip might have been his inspiration for adopting the brick as a 'literary device'? A possibility I think, especially since his character who wants to bean the girl with the brick actually loves her and I'm sure was speaking figuratively.