A Northern Rail

Typical Northerner

I've learnt one thing since being at Uni; apparently, I'm from The North.

You see, before, I thought I came from the north - an informal and vague term describing the most northerly quarter-to-a-third of the land-area of England.

But no. According to the revised consensus, the place I actually hail from is 'The North' - a kind of turgid, boggy mass, a rugged, scuffed, anarchic post-industrial wasteland populated by slack-mouthed drooling Les Dawsons and Ken Dodds who veer between bacchanalian drunken revelry and bovine, atonal grunting. Where the air is pipe and pit-smoke, where it rains gravy, where the kids eat coal and the dogs shit barm cakes.

'Coming' from the North is akin to a kind of survival - as though you were lucky not to be picked off by spear-wielding pie-enthusiasts as you hiked over the Watford Gap. The re-patriated northerner is a civilised savage; to be commended and interacted with, but warily, in case the old instincts kick in and he lashes out after confusing you for a dollop of instant mash. If you think I'm overusing the pie and mining references, there's not much I can do. It's as deep as the stereotype goes.

Although it does have another side; 'cool, edgy North'. A fallout from it's 'Merseybeat' and subsequently 'Madchester' heydays, it's a grungy, dingy haven of intense, soulful, challenging music, haunted by the ghost of it's working class, industrialist roots. Heaven with ashtrays and Johnny Marr riffs. 'Coming' from this North is akin to spilling from the lap of Shaun Ryder himself.

Both are patently bollocks. Not so much in that they describe something that doesn't exist - but I'll tell you now, southern readers, they really fucking don't - , but in the sense that they describe something that I didn't exist in. I grew up in the one Conservative constituency in Greater Manchester, amongst private, tree-lined driveways and hockey mums in Range Rovers. Ian Brown and Johnny Marr both turned up to my parents evenings, but only because their kids went to the same treacherously affluent schools that I did. You've so much to answer for, guys.

Which means that I constantly feel guilty about saying where I come from. I have to follow it up with 'but South Manchester, posh Manchester, Cheshire, really, if I'm honest'. And then people nod, and let their faces fall. They're disappointed. I had them going for a second.

At college, I veer between having my actions explained as a result of my Northern-ness ('God, he's gone quiet again. He's so northern!' 'God, he's being surly again. He's so northern!' 'God, he's looking at us with barely suppressed loathing. He's so northern!') and being accused of 'not really being that northern'. It's like I'm an imposter. Like I've been trying to deceive them. I've failed to live up to a stereotype that doesn't really exist and have thus disappointed people. Again, the fucking temerity of me.

At the same time, there's part of me that desperately wants to be part of this stereotype, and fights desperately against any further distance placed between me and it. Last week I did a play that required me to speak in RP. After a couple of rehearsals doing the voice and hearing it used all around me, a terrible thing happened. I began using the 'ar' pronunciation. Grass became gr'ar'ss. Laugh became 'l'ar'ugh'. Past became 'p'ar'st. I was frantic. Desperate to reclaimed that shortened, heavenly 'a', I began running over the proper inflection in my head...and couldn't remember where it belonged. What about half? Did I ever say 'haff'? Or 'caff'? Shit, how do you even say barm cake? What if it's supposed to be 'baam' cake? How do I even speak?

Luckily the play ended and the 'a's returned. But the point stands. The burden of stereotype is too much. Is it too much to ask just to be able to say where I'm from, and not be patronised or accused of artifice in the process? You know who's to blame. Those fucking southerners.

(Although as t turns out I'm actually Australian. So forget all that.)

This will be the last entry until at least June the 25th. Platt has exams. Pray for him.