Five-thirty a.m., an a middlin crowd mornin.
Hooooooo-eeeeeee. Ohhoooeeeeeee. Dunno be alarmed, I’m nobbut tryin to imitate a mornin buzzer wi cowd type. Ooh———-, EEeeeeeeeeeooooooooo. Han yo getten me? Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang! Bum bum bum bum bum bum bum! A pause. Then a bit moor Hoooooooooeeeeeeee. Then another spasm o Bang bang bang bang bang! Rat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat! Bang bang!
The above is not a piece of Dadaist prose, but the opening lines of a sketch by Sam Fitton called “Monday Morning (Pen Picture of Lancashire Life as it used to be)”. It has started me thinking about the ways in which writers from the mills, in particular, tried to render the soundscape of their working lives in their writings. I am also wondering if this could or ought to be described as ‘experimental writing’? Sam Fitton as Futurist anyone?
“Five-thirty a.m., an a middling crowd mornin.