Peter Currell Brown
Peter Currell Brown went to Colchester Royal Grammar School, which he left at age fifteen. His first job working in a factory was the stimulus for his only novel, Smallcreep's Day. He married in 1962, and his first child was born later that year. The following year he moved to a small cottage in rural Gloucestershire, where he raised his 4 children. He worked at various jobs locally, including Dursley's main factory, Lister's and Peter Scott’s Wildfowl Trust in Slimbridge. The success of Smallcreep’s Day enabled him give up factory work.
In 1966 he set up a craft pottery he called The Snake Pottery. He later gave up employed work to concentrate on the pottery. In 1987 he separated from his wife and moved out of the cottage.
“You do not buy freedom because you dare not. In a society of free men you would be forced to face up to the truth of what you really are. In every sense of the expression you would have to do your own dirty work, you would have to forge your very own relationships with those around you.”
Peter Currell Brown
“It's a long day, isn't it?' he said. 'Yes,' I replied. There are many such statements in factory conversation, to which the answer is always yes, because they are not so much statements of opinion or fact as they are expressions of a kind of unity. It might be technically correct to reply, 'Today is exactly the same length as yesterday,' or 'You cannot reasonably say that the gauge is wrong,' or 'The manager works very hard,' or 'But it would be impossible to have intercourse in the office in the lunch break' - but it would definitely not be polite. The proper answer in all cases is 'Yes, you are right,' for such is the convention, and no purpose is served by going against it. I remember, years ago, a very young man who suddenly took it into his head to refuse to say 'Good morning' to everyone in the customary way. He said that it was meaningless because everyone knew that it wasn't a good morning at all because they were all at work, and that t was hypocrisy, too, to wish people a good morning when you knew you'd be sneering and carping at them behind their backs before the teabreak had started. Of course he was technically right - but he nearly had a nervous breakdown, and finished up on his knees begging people to say good morning to him. He had to leave, and I never did hear what became of him.”
Peter Currell Brown