A. P. Herbert (1890–1971)

A P Herbert was an English humorist, novelist, playwright, law reformist and from 1935 to 1950 was an Independent Member of Parliament for Oxford University. The University seats were abolished in the 1950 general election.
He was a regular contributor to Punch Magazine and that publications sense of humour is evident in Herbert's novel Number Nine published in 1951.

Reading books published in 1951 has unearthed publications from many authors that are new to me and even if the books are not particularly outstanding they can still carry a feeling for the era in which they were published, which can be provoking, interesting, amusing, perhaps dull or even odious. The most difficult books to appreciate are those that are meant to be humorous, because our sense of what is funny has changed over the last 70 years. Number Nine is a case in point. It is a humorous tale of a weekend selection programme for entry into the civil service. The 45 hopefuls referred to as the intake must undertake a series of tests where they are judged by professional assessors and a small team of Psychiatrists referred to always as trick-cyclists. There are complications: one of the intake, number 9 has infiltrated the programme to not only repay a grudge against one of the trick-cyclists, but to discredit the whole event in order to reclaim the ancestral home in which it is customarily held.

There are the usual jokes about word association tests, particularly from the answers provided by two of the women hopefuls. Romance is in the air, as is revenge and the women are targets or associates in both of these events. An elaborate hoax is undertaken and a retired admiral is there to add some misguided authority. The writing is competent enough, occasionally amusing, but a bit wordy, looking back to a a golden age of humour rather than looking forward to more trenchant satire. Sexism and racism are par for the course for the contributors to Punch magazine at this time. Jolly japes all round and 2.5 stars.… (meer)

Seriocomic novel set in contemporary London and vicinity. The principal character is Jane Bell, a girl of the lower classes living on a barge (owing to losses incurred by her ne'er do well father in horse racing). Her relationships with Fred (an illiterate bargeman), Ernest (a fiery Socialist) and Mr. Bryan (the artistic son of a peer) form the basis of the novel. There are some bright moments of comedy, as you would expect from Herbert, who was a master of the genre, but there are certainly some wince-inducing moments, and not all of them are of the kind that I think Herbert intended. It's certainly curious to see a Socialist cast as something of a villain, and the Socialist version of Sunday School is presented, not without a certain ration of acid. (Herbert himself was an independent MP, though he had not been elected as such at the time the book came out.) To be sure, some of the Bright Young Things (like Bryan's fiancee and another lady) aren't treated much better. Quite a lot of talk about domestic violence and out of wedlock marriage, which might have been a bit surprising in 1930 (and doubly surprising for a book that has been printed in youth editions). Interesting, and well-written, but like flat champagne, it left me with a lingering sour taste that was hard to dispel. A few footnotes: Herbert lived near Hammersmith, where the novel is set, owned a yacht called Water Gipsy, which he used during his World War II service on the river, and was a noted supporter of river activities.… (meer)

As a writer [a:A.P. Herbert|5061807|A.P. Herbert|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/m_50x66-82093808bca726cb3249a493fbd3bd0f.png] was known for his comic work. This, however, his first book, is an altogether darker affair.

The Secret Battle, published in 1919, might be the first of the British novels/memoirs of the First World War. It tells the story of a high strung young soldier called Harry Penrose who enlists in 1914 and is executed for cowardice in 1917. Herbert, who fought at Gallipoli and on the Western Front, vividly evokes the squalor of both theatres, more so than in some better known books. Penrose's slow approach to his inevitable fate is powerfully told.

In Britain much of what is generally believed about the First World War comes from the poems, plays, novels, and memoirs it produced (the latter categories indistinguishable in some cases). The notion of 'shot at dawn' is particularly widespread; of shell-shocked men being summarily shot for cowardice by a brutal military. This book lends much weight to that. Indeed, there was a man, Sub-Lieutenant Edwin Dyett, in Herbert's regiment who was shot for cowardice in 1917 and the circumstances of the case certainly raise the eyebrows of a civilian reader a century later.

But, if Herbert is telling Dyett's story, he certainly does so with plenty of poetic licence. And, as [a:John Terraine|225975|John Terraine|https://d.gr-assets.com/authors/1367005763p2/225975.jpg] explains in his excellent introduction, capital punishment was very rare in the British Army in World War One.

The Secret Battle is far better than some better known books. But, with the blend of memoir and novel which that war's literature generated, the reader must always question which, exactly, they are reading.… (meer)

A sad and moving story of the British infantry man's experience in the trenches of the First World War. A. P. Herbert's style is as calm and measured as the events he describes are horrible.

Our hero is Harry, a delicate Oxford Scholar filled with fear and self-doubt but driven by a relentless need to conquer it. Through the lens of trenches in Gallipoli and France, the book looks at the "wind up" (what would now probably be called PTSD) and considers what constitutes courage, and how it differs from soldier to soldier.… (meer)