The best books that really get under the skin of 1930s Britain

For millions of Britons living through the 1930s, the biggest influence on their lives was the long shadow of the First World War. Frederic Manning’s searing story of ordinary soldiers fighting on the Western Front in 1916 is as good as anything you’ll ever read about the conflict.

Above all, I admire Manning’s frankness in his writing. He served in France, and it tells. His soldiers speak like soldiers: they swear – rhythmically, profanely – again and again. But this novel is about more than swearing. It shows us the daily reality of citizen soldiers struggling to endure the crushing tragedies of war. Burdened by nightmares and debilitating injuries, those who somehow survived the killing were to join a uniquely haunted generation.

If the First World War was the brooding background to 1930s Britain, the Spanish Civil War was the tragic conflict at its centre. Thousands of British volunteers went to Spain to fight, overwhelmingly on the Republican side. Meanwhile, the British government’s dogged adherence to a non-intervention agreement was slowly starving the Republicans of military aid.

I rate Preston’s account of the war because he shows how the brutal civil conflict became a proxy battleground for international forces of right and left while Britain clung to non-intervention. London was in a genuine bind over Spain but ended up adopting a position that paved the way for the appeasement of Hitler, a policy many Britons saw as profoundly dishonest.

George Orwell is rightly famous for 1984 and Animal Farm. But I heartily recommend this book for its witty, gritty trudge through the social treacle of 1930s Britain. Orwell’s tale of Gordon Comstock, a young writer who embraces poverty in order to defeat the ‘money-god’, also foreshadows key themes of his later work.

Comstock has chucked in a well-paid job as a copywriter so he can write poetry. His disdain for the copywriter’s art allows Orwell to explore the emptiness of words yoked to advertising. ‘Vitamalt’, ‘Truweet’ and ‘Bovex’ are my favourites! Orwell, the journalist-novelist, is reliably strong on those under-the-skin details, from cheap cigarettes to the cost of lodgings in seedier parts of London.

As the 1930s unfolded in Britain, news from Germany increasingly dominated the national conversation. Everyone was talking about Germany. And, as Julia Boyd’s absorbing book reveals, Britons from all walks of life were travelling there, too. I loved the sheer breadth of people featured, from holidaying teenagers and hard-bitten journalists to MPs, academics and curious adventurers.

Thomas Cook was offering holidays in Germany throughout the 1930s, despite proliferating accounts of injustice and downright persecution under Nazi rule. Some British visitors were clearly dazzled by National Socialism, others horrified. Most seemed aware that they were watching history unfold – and their accounts of everything from theatrical mass rallies to brutal street fights are all the more vivid as a result.

Many consider this book one of the finest modernist novels of the 20th century. However, it is still not read as widely as it deserves to be. I love the way Elizabeth Bowen fuses the intense spirit of modernism with observation that is as disarming as it is accurate. The novel follows the faltering progress of naive but plucky Portia, a sixteen-year-old orphan thrown upon the indifferent mercy of her half-brother and his wife.

There’s an unsuitable boyfriend, a stern but kind maid, a lively school friend and a seaside holiday that goes rather wrong. Throughout, we’re under the skin of Bowen’s characters in true modernist style – and then we’re clambering aboard a 153 bus on Marylebone High Street. Priceless stuff.