The Bottle Factory Outing (1974)

Why this one?

Author (and Dame) Beryl Bainbridge (1932 - 2010) was known, perhaps a little sadly, as the Booker Bridesmaid. She was nominated five times for the Booker Prize without a single victory to her name.

Her five nominations were for The Dressmaker (1973; losing out to J. G. Farrell’s The Siege of Krishnapur); The Bottle Factory Outing (1974; The Conservationist AND Holiday); An Awfully Big Adventure (1990; Possession); Every Man For Himself (1996; Last Orders) and Master Georgie (1998; Ian McEwan’s Amsterdam).  If losing out to Amsterdam wasn’t enough of a final insult, that year’s judge Philip Hensher is on record as saying According to Queeney was left off the 2001 shortlist to avoid more “Beryl Bridesmaid Again!” Headlines. Oh dear.

Despite all of this, she is widely regarded as one of Britain’s greatest twentieth century authors, has won numerous other awards (including the Whitbread and James Tait Black Memorial Prizes), and had several of her books successfully adapted for the big screen (a mooted French & Saunders starring adaptation of The Bottle Factory Outing sadly never made it though).

Shamefully, I’d not previously read any of her work. Why this one? I liked the description best of the five Booker-nominees. That’s all there is to that! 

Thoughts, etc.

The Bottle Factory Outing focuses on two young women who live together in a bedsit in North London, while both also working as labellers in a wine-bottling factory. The factory is owned by the Italian Mr Paganotti, who filled most of the factory’s roles with Italians from his hometown who feel indebted to him as a result. In this space, the two English women are relative outsiders, treated with a mixture of suspicion and reverence by the Italian men.  

Freda is the more forthright and outspoken of the two, younger and with acting ambitions. She has romantic designs on Vittorio, a trainee manager at the factory and the owner’s nephew. Brenda is a little older, a divorcee who is more anxious and keen to avoid confrontation.  She is the object of affection for several men in the factory, notably manager Rossi, and Irish van driver Patrick.  Freda arranges a Sunday outing for the factory workers, largely in order to attempt to seduce Vittorio.  The day gets off to a bad start when their van fails to arrive, and a smaller group of workers (including all of the above named) head off in a couple of small cars for a day out in the countryside. 

The day of the outing continues the novel’s initial tone of character-based humour mixed with an ominous sense of foreboding (Freda provides the impetus for much of the former; Brenda much of the latter.) Things take a significantly darker turn later in the day, but the novel never quite loses its sense of surreal humour as it stumbles towards a conclusion that feels somehow both shocking and inevitable. 

Overall I enjoyed this: it’s a gripping read, filled with memorable, over-the-top characters and vividly rendered set-pieces (some of which are magnificently odd). Stylistically it feels initially reminiscent of the sort of kitchen-sink realism of the previous few decades, but it’s overlaid with darkly absurd, almost gothic elements that lend it a winningly surreal touch. 

It’s not a long novel, but it does take a little while to reveal its highly unique charms, and I did find myself slightly wondering quite what to take out of it at the end.  Brenda’s conclusion that uncovering the truth “doesn’t really matter” felt oddly fitting - it’s a novel that seems happy to explore the absurdity of life without seeking to explain it.  Much is left open, and that’s almost always a good thing in my book. 

Ultimately I think the dark heart of the book wins out over the comic (despite almost every review emphasising the latter) - in part because of the brutal nature of the conclusion, and in part because some of the culture-clash humour hasn’t aged especially well.  Despite that, it’s an intriguing and unusual read that definitely leaves me wanting to check out more of Bainbridge’s work. What are your favourites from the Booker Bridesmaid? 

Beryl & some suitably odd props; 1974

Score

8

I scored both of the other 1974 winners 7.5/10. In retrospect, I underscored The Conservationist slightly. This is slightly more memorable than Holiday, though, I feel.

Next up

2002’s Women’s Prize winner Bel Canto by Ann Patchett.