When Boak & Bailey, along with Alan McLeod, suggested that we focus on a part of Martyn Cornell’s magnificent tome Porter & Stout–A Complete History for The Session #150 one would have thought it would be an easy ask for me. After all, I’d written on the subject of porter previously and I was a relatively good researcher of facts, if not a great retainer of them. What could be easier? Pick a topic related to the book and write about it …
Simple, huh?
If only.
-o-
Let’s back track a little to when I first started writing about beer history. In the beginning I would consult Martyn’s website or books, as well as those of others, to see if a certain broad topic had been covered, and I quickly came to the realisation that Martyn had covered almost all of what I was hoping to write about on any given subject. I kept thinking back to that old South Park episode where everything that the denizens of that world thought up had already been done by The Simpsons.
‘The Simpsons did it!’ rang through my head but with Martyn’s name instead.
But eventually I stopped checking, as it became a little deflationary, and I began writing just from my own research and by taking a path generally less travelled by other writers. There would be the inevitable crossovers but I just hoped that I wasn’t making any huge mistakes that would engage his, or others, wrath. Anyhow, I've come to realise that coming at a subject from a different angle, or even the same one by a different writer throws up new content and opinions.
I certainly did made mistakes but I found that I was indeed covering some new ground, especially on the Irish side of things and on topics beyond the ubiquitousness of Irish porter history, and carved a little tiny niche in beer history where I still happily sit, albeit beside the giant hall that Martyn excavated out for himself. (Admittedly my efforts to create a bigger more comfortable space for myself have slackened of late, mostly due to blunt, rusty tools—although what is it they say about bad workmen?)
Anyhow, my much better half ordered and purchased Martyn’s book for me, after quite a bit of cancellations and reordering, and when it eventually arrived, I sat down and read the Irish section over a few evenings. And that’s when the issues and self-doubt began again, as he had covered almost every aspect of Irish porter history! As a fan of beer history, I was ecstatic, but as a writer of it I felt, selfishly, dejected and deflated.
Isn’t that odd?
I put the book under a pile of others and left it there, crushed under the beer histories of Cork breweries, pub lore and other vaguely beer-related publications. I wasn’t annoyed with the book by the way, or at Martyn for writing it, I was more annoyed at myself for feeling how I did and spiralling onto a ridiculous ever decreasing circle of self-doubt and self-pity, which is not a good look for a late middle-aged beer writer! Although it is perhaps more common than I think?
Anyhow, there the book remained until Boak & Bailey first mentioned it as a topic for The Session.
-o-
I never met Martyn and didn’t know him really in any way beyond Twitter and then Bluesky, or apart from the odd amicable email exchange. We certainly had some heated 'discussions' over the years but not too many, the worst being on the subject of one of my bugbears, which is the use of the dreaded and incendiary phrase ‘The British Isles’, which is like a red rag to bull to me. I had heard all the geography-based arguments before and I explained my case but we couldn’t see eye-to-eye on the subject, and that was fine in truth.
Generally, I liked the version of Martyn I knew from social media. He could be quite prickly of course but he was supportive of lots of my writing and commented on my posts, often gently admonishing me regarding things he didn’t agree with. He was passionate, prolific, and persistent, and I must say I really miss his input into beer history topics.
But back to his book and Boak & Bailey’s call to arms.
I dug out the book again, rescuing it from beneath an ever-growing stack, and I flipped through the pages with a new found need to give myself a much-needed kick in the backside and find a topic to write about. But even with some new-found energy and enthusiasm it wasn’t quite so simple, as firstly the subject of Irish porter—my general topic of interest in the book—is a vast one and multiple ideas sprang to mind only to flitter away and dissolve as I came to the realisation that he’d already covered it all, or had covered enough of to make me require a deeper dive which I wasn’t quite up too right now.
Then I reread a little nugget that reminded me of an interaction with Martyn, one where he admitted to 'borrowing' my research for his book. An interesting tiny snippet of information that had fascinated me enough to tweet about a while back, and for Martyn to comment on.
Now I had my piece; my connection.
The content of the referenced piece is on pages 81 & 82 of his book and is regarding signage advertising Irish Porter (versus English) for sale in public houses. It was an advertisement I found in a newspaper from 1779 where a sign maker was touting for business. It reads thus:
Transparent Labels for Shops, &c.
ISAAC COLLES, at his PRINT-SHOP
No. 13, Capel-street
CONTINUES to execute the elegant and much admired TRANSPARENT LABELS for SHOPS. The Utility of the above Transparencies are obvious, shewing[sic] the Name and Profession conspicuously at Night, when Shew-Boards cannot be seen. He likewise paints Lables on TIN or Copper for the Day, in plain or gilt Letters.
Said COLLES particularly recommends it to the Publicans, who have resolved to sell Irish Porter, to have these useful Transparencies fixed to the windows, as they can be seen at Night, the Time usually allotted for Porter-drinking.
I put this up on my feed at that time and I got a reply from Martyn.
‘Thank you; stolen!’
So you see I definitely contributed to this book! Admittedly, in a very minor way. (Although I have a sneaking suspicion that he also gathered other snippets and dates from my posts and pieces!?)
The advertisement, which Martyn, rightly, didn’t focus too much on, but might be the first ‘lit’ beer advertising sign in Ireland.
The idea of transparent, backlit signs could be assumed to be a relatively modern invention, but here we have a signmaker purporting to be making some in the 18th century. I decide to do some more digging and seemingly the most common way to create a transparent material in order to write lettering on was to coat thin paper or fabric with a varnish-like substance. You can see how this would indeed create an opaque surface, and certainly ‘transparent’ enough for it to be seen from outside a window in a well-lit public house. Oil could also be used, but that might make the painting of the material more difficult. Or perhaps oil could be mixed with pigment to do the lettering and the words themselves would then be highlighted? (Glass was another option but given the wording used I don’t believe that was used in this case.)
Transparent paper could be purchased readily in England at this time too, and tellingly from a varnish maker, so it was a known practice as advertised in The Bath Chronicle and Weekly Gazette in April 1788
Sadly, I can find no surviving examples of this type of signage but there are a few images of paintings done in such a way on the internet, seemingly there was a small craze for them around the time of that advertisement.
-o-
So that’s my own personal connection to the book. Martyn didn’t credit me, but in fairness he did thank me and admitted he was stealing it!
I also think he may have been baiting me by his use of that term ‘The British Isles’ in the book.
Trust him to have the last word.
Liam K
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