Book review – Seething Lane by Jack Jewers

I have just finished reading Seething Lane by Jack Jewers, a novel in which Samuel Pepys is reinvented as a sleuth, swashbuckler and firefighter, acting on behalf of Charles II to investigate the murder of a libertine aristocrat. 

First of all, thanks to the lovely people at Moonflower for sharing this pre-sale copy with me but, having read every single word, I can safely confirm that this is not my genre. I prefer my fact and fiction to be strictly delineated, unless the resulting faction is historically correct. Jewers' characters here are a mix of real people interspersed with fabricated, mostly theatrical players. It's Pepys as TV sleuth with Nell Gwyn as his bawdy Cockney 'I ain't heard nothing' sidekick. 

I'm not seething, just disappointed. I struggled. I kept stopping within the narrative to double-check things that I was convinced couldn't be historically possible. I kept questioning why he/she might have known him/her, why person X would have done something when the history books I'd previously consulted told us something different. 

Also, the story is told in the first person by Samuel Pepys* so I'd rather expected it to be written in the same style of the time as per his real diaries. Instead, we hear characters talking very much as people speak today yet occasionally throwing in random words like perorating, betimes or cods, making it inconsistent. I found the whole thing frustrating and, taking on board that it's said to be "a page-turning crime thriller' (the FT) I kept going, hoping to reach a 'ping' moment when I'd feel that it had been worth the effort. That moment never arrived.

At the end of the book Jewers gives us explanation for his historical mash-up within a 19-page chapter called Historical Notes. Much of this would have been more useful had it been told to us before we started reading the story, perhaps as an introduction, near the character list at the front of the book. Jewers tells us that he felt that some important facts could be left out and other facts could be twisted, adapted or totally omitted to better fit his narrative. This explanation section which includes real information about Pepys and the time he lived is actually the best-written part of the book because Jewers' as historian is much easier to follow than his story-telling and clunky invented conversations. 

Would I recommend this book? Well, it depends how wobbly you like the line between fact and fiction to be. Basically, if you know anything about this period of history, this yarn is not for you. However, if you are a fan of historical whodunnits and all you know about Samuel Pepys is that he wrote a diary and buried a cheese during the Great Fire of London, then you'll love it. 

Oh, and one more thing, it's a chunky book. At over 450 pages, it is unlikely to fit in your handbag or your coat pocket. You'll need a rucksack or a comfy sofa.  

Seething Lane will be available from all good bookstores from 3rd September 2026.

*How do we know that his name was pronounced Peeps? How has this been handed down to us? Why make a single E sound more like two, and then lose the sound of the Y completely?! Why not Peppis? This makes more sense to me. I am not aware of anyone else with the Pepys name, but I do know a family called Pepper, which I wonder comes from the same root. 

Th Crucible at The Gielgud Theatre: numbing not electrifying

Arthur Miller’s ‘The Crucible’ is one of those classics on my list of never read or seen. It was on the curriculum at school but not for my stream. I know the basic story, being as it’s based in fact, about the Salem witch trials, which Miller used to make a point about MacCarthyism. I hadn’t even seen the two movies made. So I bought a ticket.

You may have read on here that I don’t like to find out too much about something before I go and experience it for myself. I had seen short promos online and headings to reviews in the press praising the way the show was staged and how the whole thing was a magnificent revival, or perfect as shown here on the Gielgud’s site. A word repeated used to describe it, used far too often which suggests a copy and paste job, was/is ‘electrifying’

Dear reader, it is soporific. It numbed me. I think I dozed off a couple of times!  Everyone speaks at the same tone to the same beat with no break or pauses like a metronome hence the hypnotic rather than stimulating effect. It certainly didn’t give me sense of dread or foreboding as I later found out it was meant to do. 

Having subsequently read a synopsis of the play, I realise many poignant things that were said on stage were missed by me completely. I hadn’t grasped who was related to whom, who had done what when or who most of the characters were. Seems to me that this is a performance for people who have studied the play who are already in the know. Which was evident here and there when audience members laughed (laughed?) in that in-the-know way they do to prove how brilliant they are, whereas I was sat there questioning what had been said. Many of these loud chucklers looked to be young students who I guess are studying the play at the moment  

I did like the look of it though. The rain effect, the costumes, the moodiness, the way people appeared like ghosts from the rear of the stage. But I also noted that the positioning of actors on the stage was often too equally spaced in the same way they that had been directed to deliver their lines - I’ll speak then you speak and he will speak then she will speak, all in the same tempo and in strange Bostonian(?) accents. Actually, here’s a thought… had that or any US regional accent set in by that time period? Surely these early settlers had all come from various places inc England and Europe and would not have yet had a common accent..?

Anyway. I sat for five mins of the interval and wondered whether to stick it out. I pondered how I’d seen quite a few people leave already during the performance. Perhaps 18 people of varying ages. I wondered if the second half would bring it all together for me. I Googled a synopsis and realised there was too much I hadn’t already understood and so I too left to read it properly on the bus home. I later looked up reviews of this show, a few of which also said they found it strangely paced and relentless as regards the dialogue. 

A shame. Disappointed. Numbed not electrified.

Diary of a Nobody at Kings Head Theatre – Avoid avoid!!

No pics with this post – just a review about what I had hoped would be an interesting twist on a much-loved book; a book I have read four times.

Last week I sent out a missive to customers who have been on my guided walks:
"As you know, one of my walks is all about how the Nag's Head area of Holloway and how it looked in its late Victorian heyday when George and Weedon Grossmith's comic character Mr Pooter "lived" there (here!).
I thought you might be interested to know that there is a play on at the King's Head Theatre at the moment that is based on the book. It runs until Saturday 18th.
I am just about to book my own ticket – perhaps I will see you there...?"

I went with two friends to see the play on Friday night. Oops. I'd spoken, I'd promoted, too soon. I could have stayed at home and clipped my toenails. Or enamelled the bath.
I should stick to my guns and only write about the things I have seen or experienced in person, because I had to again write to those same people:

"... Evelyn Waugh is quoted in the production's blurb as saying this is/was "the funniest book in the world". This quote needs to be put into context – bear in mind that Waugh's own characters, such as in Decline and Fall, are subtlely observed, hence why he would have loved DOAN as being in the same vein.

This particular adaptation is for people who like their old favourites updated, amended and added to, in this case using an inane mix of Victorian genteel and 20thC swearing, with a quite confusing mix of characters played by just four actors. I have read the book four times and I thought the first half hour of the play in particular was painfully fast.  
If, like me, you like the book's gentle comic style then be prepared to sit straight-faced all the way through the play wondering the other half of the audience is finding so damn laugh-out-loud-as-loud-as-you-can-to-prove-you-get-the-joke-hilarious.  During the interval I wondered whether to bother going back inside. It got worse, not better.

But, hey, if you haven't read the book you might actually enjoy this as a piece of fun, jolly theatre.
On a positive note, the stage sets and costumes are good."

Note that the two friends I went to see the play with concurred. As we exited the theatre we three were numb, our ears having suffered one particular audience members' outrageously loud whooping and whoa-ing. We were all unusually stunned into silence by it all; it wasn't even worth a post-mortem so we said goodnight and all went home in different directions.
I am reminded that the play was serialised on the BBC a few years back with Hugh Bonneville in the title role – that too was very HA HA HA. Everyone seems to be missing the point. I wonder what the brothers Grossmith would make of all this...?

UPDATE May 2018
I am planning a guided walk around the Holloway area based on this book including the kind of places Mr Pooter would have visited and where he would have purchased many of the items mentioned in his diary. This will form part of the Footprints of London Literary Festival in October 2018 but I should have the walk up and running by July so please check Jane's London Walks for updates.

That pointy thing called the Shard

Those of you who have read some of my previous posts will be aware that I am not a fan of that monstrous glass building at London Bridge. I think it's bullying "look at me; I'm really big!" architecture with no flair or design.
With all the empty office space available in Central London I am concerned about all the new build. The Dubaiification of London. And I am fed up with all the unnecessary competition between cities around the world to have the tallest "iconic" building. In most cases the measured height is, to me rather daft as it includes the aerials on the top. If I wear a stovepipe hat does that mean I am 6ft 2?!
A couple of weeks ago there was an article in The Times (Saturday July 6th) reporting that the Shard is failing in its attempt to sell the space within it. The Times reports that the 25 floors of office space are as empty as they were 12 months ago with only 10% being leased. The location is being cited as a reason; London Bridge is not The City, where other big buildings with silly names situtaed in the Square Mile are managing to sell their space.
The article goes on to quote Irvine Sellar, the Shard's developer, who seems to be cherry-picking his tenants. He cites this as a reason for the empty floors and rationalises, "...we are taking our time... we don't want to fill the Shard up with accountants or lawyers". He goes on, "...we are going to have asset managers, energy companies, lawyers and many more. We want a broad mix".
I very much doubt that is the reason at all. Location probably does play a part, but I think the lack of uptake is mostly down to the fantastically high maintenance charges; the window cleaning alone is estimated at £150,000 a year, plus rates on the empty offices need to be paid for before they are leased, and electricity has to be block-purchased in advance. Cleaning and security for the building could cost as much as £9million a year once it is fully let.
So, they must have thought long and hard about how to bring in big dosh for  little outlay.... hmmm... let's think... Yes! viewing platforms. Incidentally, I don't like the word "platforms" in this instance. Bad word. Why not galleries, floors or levels?
They call it "The View" and on Saturday 13th July I went to see it for myself. My very generous friend paid £24.99 each for four of us. TWENTY FIVE QUID!!! That's the pre-booking price. If you buy your ticket on the day it goes up to £29.99.
OK here goes... hold on to your hat... this is what you get for £25...

• On arriving we were informed that there are no toilets on the viewing levels and were directed to the ones adjacent to the booking hall; an area that is awash with CGI on large screens and colourful technology. Opening the door to the Ladies we entered a service corridor with whitewashed breeze block walls. There were loose wires and duct-taped pipes. Inside it was obvious that this was usually used by staff or gym users as we saw lockers in there. A temporary sign on A4 copy paper apologised, explaining that new toilets are currently being built for Guest use. This building has been open to the public for almost a year now and they haven't made the toilets? Is £25 a reduced rate due to this? Or, will the price go up when the toilets are finally open? 
• So, why are there no toilets on or near the viewing levels? What happens if someone is taken short or feels dizzy/sick? Are people expected to get in the lift again, go all the way through the gift shop, past the booking desks and relieve themselves only to find that they (probably) aren't allowed back up again? I am sure there must be toilet facilities on the restaurant floors but viewing-only plebs aren't allowed to mix with high-paying foodies. 
• There is nowhere to sit on the viewing platforms. Not everyone is happy standing, or sitting on the floor. Many people, especially those who are tired, dizzy, disabled, old or infirm would benefit from some simple benches where they can rest for 5 minutes as in art galleries. There is ample space all around the inner wood-panelled wall where these could be added. I believe there are two reasons for their non-existence: 1) it stops people staying up there too long, and, 2) the Shard was never designed to have viewing platforms in the first instance or they would have designed it better. 
• So it ought to go without saying that there are no refreshment opportunities up there either.
• Why no glass floors? A huge opportunity has been missed here. Especially as the building is clad in glass. There are perfect places in recessed areas where glass-floored panels could have been included (such as in Auckland's Sky Tower in and many others). But, again, I think this is for the same reasons as the lack of seating.
• Don't look up because the ceilings of the viewing platforms are an ugly mess. There are hanging wires and pipes clad in silver foil with stickers on them, plus metal fixings and plates that I think ought not to be seen. It looks so out of place with the simplicity of the wooden floors and walls. 
• When we were there we commented how daft it was that the only way to identify the buildings in the distance was to use one of the computerised viewing machines. We wondered why they hadn't put information about the major landmarks onto the windows or on a rail in front of us. It wasn't until I got home and looked at my photos that I noticed that there is a legend there, but it is situated above everyone's heads!! How utterly daft. You have to step back from the glass to see it. Another afterthought?
• On the ground floor, on the way in between security checks and the lift you can have your photo taken against a simulated image of the Shard. As per The London DUNG-eon and all other rip-off tourist attractions of this kind, the prints are an extra charge. Did I mention the tickets for The View at Shard are £25?
• The lifts are rather disappointing. Considering they are being touted for their high speed you don't get a visual sense of this at all. You stand there in a dark blue box looking up at some computer generated whizzy lines on the ceiling. Couldn't they have filmed the journey to the top of the Shard from the roof of the lift and put that up on the ceiling so we had the feeling of heading skyward? This seems too obvious a trick to have missed.

To conclude, I believe due to their lack of facilities, the viewing platforms are an afterthought to the conceived design of the building. I think the developers really thought companies would have been snapping up the office space off-plan before the building was completed.
The exorbitant minimum ticket price of £24.99 for what is just a trip in two lifts with a view at the top and not a lot else, is to help with those cleaning bills.
Mind you, I suppose comparing time:money it does work out cheaper than a trip on the London Eye (£17.28 for half an hour) because you can stay up in the Shard as long as you want. I am not sure if you can take your own food and drink up there, but don't take too much because the toilets are 69/72 floors away (they include the landings on the stairs as two floors!)
Oh, one more thing that nags at me; the location is called London Bridge Quarter. A quarter of what? Does the Shard take up 25% of the whole of the whole London Bridge area? What are the other three quarters called? Answers here please.

"This article has been written to recognise the author's contribution to travel and tourism by Avis Car Hire on the A-List Awards 2013".

Andaz, Anzac, Antz, Ant and Dec Hotel, or whatever it's called

Up until this week I'd never been inside the Great Eastern Hotel at Liverpool Street. I'd always meant to wander in and have a snoop about, convinced as I was that inside would be like stepping into the past. Victorian and Edwardian railway hotels were always set up as showcases; just check out The Midland Grand Hotel in St Pancras and Gare D'Orsay in Paris, to name but two.

These days, however the hotel is owned and managed by the Hyatt group and they have seen fit to change the name to Andaz. Why they couldn't have kept the the original name or come up with a compromise such as 'The Hyatt Great Eastern' is beyond me because as I am having trouble remembering the new name (see title above!).

Apparently andaz is a Hindustani word which translates as 'personal style' but, having checked out the hotels rooms I'd say it just looks like Hyatt has been bulk-buying along TottCtRd, especially from Dwell and Elephant.

Much is made of their unconventional lobby area which has no 'traditional' desk or receptionists. Instead guests are welcomed by one of a team of meet-and-greeters who, they say, can organise everything for you whilst they whisk you to your cheerless 1980's-style-pale-grey-with-red-accents room. These are bland bland bland rooms and every one of them has the same colour scheme. Oh that plain dark brown wood is going to date so fast. It's all so charmless, cheerless and lifeless. How about a few tasteful pictures on the walls to remind the guests of the hotel's history? This would neatly tie in with the effort being made to link in to the area's East End cultural heritage – art exhibitions have been organised, and there are 'relevant' quotes on the walls in and around the circular atrium, but no-one seems to know who they are attributed to.

The connecting corridors and utilitarian 'Metropolis'-style stairwells and atriums that link the old and new parts of the building, all made me feel like I was in a sanitorium rather than an exclusive hotel. The lift is encased with industrial mesh that barely conceals electric wires and chalk marks. Looking down from the 2nd floor into the internal courtyard made me feel like a prisoner who isn't allowed to go down to the exercise yard.

But I did like gobo signage. At least letters can't fall off light projections, which is what had happened to the 3D signage. Shame. But then I'm all about interesting details, and there weren't many to see.

On the plus side, the room prices seem reasonable. Much is made of inclusive iPod docks, wifi and organic non-alcoholic minibars (eh?!)... but you only get one silly-shaped chair in a King-sized room!

Moving across to the older part of the hotel (still with bland rooms, but nicer doors)... and – wow! Like a smack in the face, and completely at odds with the new renovations, there's the old original marble staircase with moulded ceilings and grainy marble walls and... get this... just past that, a 'hidden' windowless Masonic temple/room that's wonderfully OTT.

The bars and restaurants on the ground floor are really lovely and still have their fabulous high ceilings and original features. The Champagne Bar mixes the old with the new perfectly and has some small architectural features picked out in modern vibrant green paint. If only the main part of the hotel had followed suit.

We had champagne and sushi (I hate the taste of wasabi so could only safely eat one of the pretty little things) and then, in Catch restaurant, we had fish cakes in consommé (lovely) and a cod dish (disappontingly tasteless and soggy), followed by a selection of scrummy cheeses, chutneys and delicious wines in 1901.

So to conclude... lovely restaurants and bars, friendly and helpful staff, hidden history, horrible hotel rooms.

My pics aren't really up to scratch this time... sorry; I was using an iTouch. Tom's are better. More hotel info and better pics are available here... go check out those posed model shots!