John Taylor’s essay Landscape for Everyone discusses the landscape of England during World war II, beginning by pointing out that ‘landscape was a route to levels of emotion which were acceptably patriotic without being too nationalistic (in contrast to the warmongering fascists).’
He goes on to discuss the associations English landscape has always had to the past; and how historically there was a fear of creeping industrialisation destroying the countryside, which was superseded by a fear of its destruction by invasion by enemy troops. He describes how patriotic propaganda tapped into a national nostalgia, suggesting that the English countryside contained the strength to inspire ‘triumph’ over Nazi Germany.
In order to deter strangers, road signs were removed and hotel signs taken down where they showed a town name or distance. As Taylor reports ‘Fields and open spaces were obstructed by concrete blocks, stones and wire to prevent enemy planes from landing’. Unnecessary travel stopped, and the rural idyll became a memory.
The media offered strange juxtapositions in its depiction of the countryside: while picturesque pictures were no longer usable for their own sake, it was acceptable to use a scenic image if evacuated children were included in the foreground, for instance; a reminder to readers of what they were striving to save. Taylor states that the ‘Ministry of Information and the press promoted the idea that the diverse but beautiful landscape of England belonged to the whole people, encouraging them to see it as their own and so worth defending’. Readers were encouraged to cast aside class differences and stand together to defend the pastoral idyll.
The concept of the countryside as a call to battle seems strange today, especially at the time of writing when the country should be pulling together to support each other during the COVID-19 pandemic, yet social media gives different opinions a voice and so many seem determined to follow their own path no matter what the cost to others. The idea of pulling together for the countryside also seems strange when considering how many people lived in poverty during the 1940s and the examples in the article act as if such difficulties do not exist. However, I think there is still a great British aversion to ‘eyesores’ where the countryside is concerned, be it wind turbines or, in Plymouth, a new Antony Gormley sculpture, where people seem to think the countryside should still look twee and be unencumbered by modern signs of progress.























