The English Path by Kim Taplin

4 out of 5 stars

The publisher provided a copy of this, free of charge, in return for an honest review.

The network of English footpaths is not only extensive, but it is a walked record of human history in these isles, going back thousands of years in some cases. I have walked along some of the holloways in West Dorset, and not only are they spectacular, but they are a record of human movement going back hundreds of years. And in the case of Shutes Lane and Hell Lane, it wouldn’t surprise me that they had their origins deep in the past.

Whilst paths are nowadays seen as second or third rate in this age of the motorcar, Taplin wants to rediscover their literary heritage. She draws on the works of John Clare, William Barnes, Thomas Hardy, John Cooper Powys, Richard Jefferies and Edward Thomas and others. She is intending on trace the relationship of the literary path to the actual paths.

Both animals and man make paths. Where people have walked and not followed the neatly laid out and prescribed asphalt are called desire paths. Animals make similar routes across fields and through hedgerows, finding the most suitable routes to where they want to get to.

Paths that had been used for hundreds of years were taken from the commoners in the state-sanctioned theft of the commons by the landed gentry and the aristocracy (bastards), or as we are taught in history, the enclosure acts. Paths that anyone could and did walk along were now private property. The great and the good (such an inaccurate and misleading title) conspired to then ensure that the footpaths were blocked both legally and illegally.

The paths weren’t just a functional route for one place to another, they had a vital use for villagers to court and socialise after a days toil on the land. There were some landowners who were sympathetic to the plight of those wanting and demanding access, but a lot were concerned that they would mar it.

People have always enjoyed the right to walk through the English Countryside, and they have always done so for pleasure as well as business. In an age of greater material prosperity, our spiritual needs increase: we need the quietness and sweet variety that paths can offer.

Some paths had lots of traffic, others were scarcely used. Some Paths, as written in ‘Still Glides The Stream’ were the first stage in every journey, and others became important hubs at churches and pubs.

The distances that some folks had to walk were large; it wasn’t uncommon for people to walk six miles each way for school or to their place of employment. There was always a path that people travelled along on the final journey to the place they would be interred.

Walking out was seen as a part of courtship, and being seen together was part of a claim, a declaration of intentions. The gentry walked their private paths had the luxury of a carriage for other jaunts. Howitt says they may as well be born without legs… He felt they were missing out on ‘wild sounds and aspects of earth and heaven’.

The paths were public, so you would almost be seen by people who know you. But certain paths would allow some privacy, hence why you still find paths called Lovers Lane.

In a time without pervasive light pollution, paths could take on a more sinister feel. The echoes of folklore could be felt on a moonless night. Dark nights were perfect for those who wished to move around without the authorities’ gaze.

Walking can be a cure for the black dog, and a number of writers in this book have used it for that very purpose. Helen Thomas mentions in her autobiography (I have a copy of this that I really must read) that the act of walking, placing one foot in front of the other, is a balm for many people. This is being proved by modern science too.

Immersion in the natural world is good for our very soul. In the chapter, Sounds, Scents and Seeings, Taplin explores how her chosen writers revel in listening to the things they experience when walking. Taking the time to be in the natural world is important to all these writers.

To venture off the well-trodden path is often an act of trespass, which is ironic given that the chinless wonders had stolen it from the common people in the first place. Though they don’t seem to have a problem riding roughshod over various other landowners’ property in the pursuit of the fox.

Things changed after WW1, feudalism waned somewhat, and things changed in society, sadly, though, not always for the positive. Those in power were not particularly keen to give it up and to an extent, they still have that power. It has taken a further 100 years to get to this point, and it still isn’t over.

Is life a journey? This is the question that Taplin poses at the ned of her book and heads to the library to find references for it. I think it partly is, even though there are a vast number of curve balls that seem to have come my way on this path!

This is a lovely book about the pleasure of taking a walk along an English footpath. I liked the way that she has grouped the literary references together, and added her own take on the chosen writers’ thoughts. The way to keep these footpaths is to keep using them. It stops them from being blocked or falling into disrepair. Organisations like Slow Ways are doing a fantastic job of mapping and recording them. This is a very gentle read about the importance of keeping them alive.