Victorian Goose Fair

Nottingham Goose Fair, Market Place, 1890s
Credit: The Paul Nix Collection

The Goose Fair has been a prominent fixture in the local calendar for as far back as 1160, with only an outbreak of leprosy in 1346, the bubonic plague of 1646, and the great Wars of the 20th century bringing it to a temporary close. So there’s a fair bit of history surrounding this annual festival. However, it is a book reference that is the latest cause of celebration for Nottingham’s not-best kept secret as this is where a randy factory worker called Arthur Seaton received a good kicking from two Swaddies for having his end away with a married woman and her sister on a certain Saturday night in 1958.

Is that a snake woman or are you just pleased to see me? Source Sillitoe Trail.

To celebrate this important location (rather than adultery or violence) the Alan Sillitoe Committee has commissioned local historian and author Ann Featherstone to give a talk about the history of the fair. Ann will be sharing her love of the Victorian period when the fair included freak shows and menageries, performing seals and diving shows, fat ladies and skeleton men. The Balloon Headed Baby, Mary Anne Bevan the World’s Ugliest Woman and Leonine the Lion Faced Lady are just some of the acts managed by Tom ‘The Silver King’ Norman, the man who commissioned the silver bells that are still used today as part of the Lord Mayor’s ‘ringing in’ ceremony. Sadly these oddities are long gone from the fair but if you switch on C4 at 9pm any night in the week then you’ll find they’ve found a new home.

Sydney Race’s secret diary. Photo Ann Featherstone.

Ann’s talk will draw upon the diaries of Sydney Race, an obscure diarist who, writing in the 1890s, documented the last live shows of the Fair before it transformed into the gleaming chav magnet that we know and love today. One regular feature of the Fair then was the animal shows (and we don’t mean the GB Lions they failed to flog at the Olympics that you’ll be able to win on hook a duck). We’re talking proper animals: hyenas, wolves, and bears, all abused and mistreated for the pleasure of the paying public. The exhibition of animals was seen as both entertaining and educational. Perhaps the most bizarre act to feature an animal was the Globe of Death (or Wall of Death) where it was quite common for a lion to be taken on the wall in a side car.

The Victorian Goose Fair was a bizarre, horrific and tragic experience, which explains why people loved it so much. Ann will be recounting some of these tales and illustrating her talk with visuals. She will be open to questions as well as encouraging the audience to share their own memories. If you are interested in local history, human oddities and want to escape the current Fair for five minutes, then cross the road from the Forest Recreation Ground and join us in the New Art Exchange. They do some pretty nice nosh in there as well, should you crave more than cocks on sticks and mushy peas.

‘Victorian Goose Fair’ by Ann Featherstone New Art Exchange, 39-41 Gregory Boulevard, Nottingham, NG7 6BE Nae.org FREE 4.30 – 5.30 Saturday 6 October

The Goose Fair is the fifth location on the Sillitoe Trail Mobile Phone App which will be launched on 27 October at Sillitoe Day. 

To get you in Goose Fair mood I am currently tweeting Sillitoe’s short story ‘Noah’s Ark’ about two boys on a limited budget out for a bit of fun. A lot of the tweets include photos of the Goose Fair that go back to the Victorian age.
I’ve also written about the history of the Goose Fair for Colin Haynes’ quirky Nottingham Essence  

 

Caribou Caravan: The Zine Machine

Photo James Walker.

Annelise Atkinson joined me at the Nottingham Writers’ Studio on the 18 January for a discussion on zines. Annelise runs the Caribou Caravan, a specialist boutique that makes and sells zines, cards, reconditioned typewriters and my personal favourite, cups with moustaches. The caravan is currently situated in Hopkinson’s Gallery but will soon be leaving to visit various arts and craft fairs up-and-down the country.

I invited Annelise to the studio for two reasons. Firstly, she’s an independent business and so needs as much support as possible. Being aware of various literature organisations and marketing herself more specifically to writers and readers could be essential for her survival. I’ve since been in contact with Ross Bradshaw to see if we can hold a similar discussion at Lowdham Book Festival. At first, I think Annelise was a little bit sceptical and thought I was after some kind of introduction fee for helping her out. Quite simply, I think what’s she’s doing is fantastic and I’d like to try and support her as much as possible. Independent businesses are closing down at an alarming rate in Nottingham – Lilly and Pinks being the latest – so unless we all pull together in whatever way we can, we’re destined for a bland city centre comprising of Tescos, Tescos and Tescos.

Inside the caravan. Photo by James Walker.

Secondly, it was an appropriate discussion for the studio as zines are a really viable option for writers at various stages of their career, something we tend to forget in the digital age. Zines offer collaboration with artists, encourage writers to be focussed through niche and specific topics, give experience of production and publishing, are accessible and affordable, can be used to promote work through spin-offs (thoughts from a character in your latest novel/poetry collection/extract from book etc) but most importantly, offer the opportunity of publication.

I was bought a Kindle for Christmas and I hate it. Functionally, it can’t be knocked. It holds loads of books and you can quickly search terms and phrases which are useful for research. But it’s an ugly brute. There is nothing magical or beautiful about it. Zines, on the other hand, are produced with love. They conjure the aura and essence that Walter Benjamin wrote of and are a reminder of the importance of the physical relationship we have when reading. Texture, touch and smell are just as important as words. That’s why we judge a book by its cover – and the kindle cover is generic.

Generally speaking zines take ages to make, any profit is negligible, they are produced in small runs and are read by a small niche audience. There’s something gorgeously futile about them – at least in relation to today’s values. But it would be a mistake to see them purely as an antidote to the Facebook generation as a lot use social networking websites for submissions or to promote work. Flicking through the zines reminded me of childhood and the excitement of waiting for my comic to come through the letterbox at 7am on a Saturday morning. You just don’t get that excitement with digital technology. You may have the world at your fingertips but there’s nothing tangible in your hand. That’s why there’s going to be a resurgence in zines. I hope.

Read an interview with Annelise Atkinson