A Spectator's Notebook
T is a little sad to see the vision of itself that 'Oxford still seems to love best: to judge by the iconographic evidence, the ideal city exists in a perpetual summer morning, somewhere be- tween 1810 and 1840, unsullied by trade and industry, on which there is 'nothing to be seen in the High Street or the Broad except an ox- cart, a curly-tailed dog, a couple of bumpkins in rustic dress, three young gentlemen, gowned,. and a proctor with bulldogs. That it's now the English Detroit isn't a matter it cares to think about; shopkeeping OXford still dominates the council, and, in its concentration on its agelong bicker with the university, it doesn't think much about Cowley except as a sort of pool that shoppers come from. Almost the only evidence of any large-minded approach to a civic problem to be seen in or near Oxford is provided by the ring road, but this, characteristically, has the negative aim of keeping traffic, particularly Cow- ley's traffic, out of the city, and isn't part of any attempt to solve the urban problems of a grow- ing industrial town with an ossified heart. It is, or should be. a chastening experience, for any- one who takes pride in being English or of English origin, to walk from Oxford station up to Carfax and then on to the Pressed Steel Works in Cowley with the thought in mind that he is walking through one of the vital centres of the country's intellectual life.
Previous page
