Tales from the Back Green

by Bill Paterson (Author)

• Used

  Hardcover
  2008

  $3.45

  The much loved Scots actor Bill Paterson was brought up in those halcyon days of post-war Britain when a child could still play happily and safely in his own back green and the streets beyond. Now, in TALES FROM THE BACK GREEN he evokes his boyhood and youth in Glasgow's East End during the 1950s, full of intriguing characters and extraordinary events. Always eager to push the boundaries of what they were allowed to do, Bill and his mates construct a giant dust atomic bomb, try to hold their own World Cup tournament and play endlessly on wasteland thats now unrecognizable from the exciting jungle of his childhood. TALES FROM THE BACK GREEN is not only a brilliant realisation of a time and a place, but a classic memoir of childhood that will strike a chord with everyone who's ever played and dreamed with little thought of life when I grow up.

• Used

  Paperback
  2009

  $3.45

  When these captivating Tales from the Back Green were broadcast on BBC Radio they were described by The Herald as 'a vividly engaging portrait of a vanished city' and The Scotsman as 'an engaging series fondly and wittily rendered'. Now published for the first time, actor Bill Paterson's stories brilliantly evoke his 1950s Glasgow boyhood. This is a world of intriguing characters and extraordinary events set against the background of the changes and challenges of the post-war era - the nuclear threat, the fading dominance of the kirk, Rock and Roll, the disappearance of the beloved trams, and why penny whoppers were not worth tuppence. As a young surveyor, Paterson was witness to the dramatic transformation of the city, as austere tenements were swept away to make way for new roads and high-rise blocks. Tales From the Back Green is a brilliant realisation of childhood and youth; of memories Paterson describes as 'suspended in amber like Jurassic Park's mosquito, with its DNA still intact.' He wonders whether our memories change from grey to gold as the years pass - do we naturally recall our childhood as a time of optimism and hope?