Notes From A Small Island

Bryson suggests that the British and the Americans possess a mutual fascination for each other’s national quirks, coupled with disdain for certain characteristics—Americans view the English as painfully reserved, for example, while English people view Americans as embarrassingly boisterous. While the bulk of this book focuses solely on Great Britain, Bryson cannot help but compare his adopted country to the country of his birth. This strategy of comparison allows him to make generalizations about both countries that serve to support his ideas about (and affection for) each. Bryson’s credibility as a travel writer rests on his ability to position himself both as an insider and an outsider: His outside perspective allows him to notice traits that the British may not see in themselves, while his long habitation in England gives him an intimate knowledge of its culture and landscape. Thus, Bryson establishes authority over each place, fashioning himself an expert in relaying cultural realities.

Bryson writes that when he first arrived in Britain, more than 20 years prior to the events of the book, his body “was lightly oiled with the dirt of two nations” (11). The metaphor suggests that he belongs to both the US and England but, as a young man, is not deeply rooted in either. He is initially confused and overwhelmed, but he slowly grows to enjoy his position as an outsider: “To this day,” Bryson notes with growing fondness for what he sees as a British idiosyncrasy, “I remain impressed by the ability of Britons of all ages and social backgrounds to get genuinely excited by the prospect of a hot beverage” (18). The ritual of afternoon tea is a symbol of British cultural identity: While in the US cup of tea is simply a “hot beverage,” in England it represents notions of home, family, safety, and hospitality. Bryson speaks to the welcoming impulse wherein he begins to feel at home in a faraway place.

The longer he stays in England, ironically, the more he becomes the representative American in the lives of his British friends and acquaintances. He mentions his editing job at the Bournemouth Evening Echo, where one of his colleagues constantly peppers him with “mystifying question[s] to do with America” (75). These questions are along the lines of confirming Mickey Rooney’s sexual experience with Ava Gardner or identifying the native bird species of Hawaii. Bryson, the only American in the room, becomes, by default, the expert on the US. Concomitantly, he grows into an expert on the British character as well, though his observations on this subject are frequently comparative: “[T]he British are so easy to please,” he boldly asserts, an attitude that “is completely alien to the American mind” (79). This contrast allows Bryson to draw a (necessarily stereotypical) character sketch of the British people among whom he travels.

Later, as Bryson reports firmly from the present, after 20 years in Britain, he claims ownership over both cultural heritages: “I explained to [the tourist officer] that though I was technically an American I had lived in Britain long enough to be careful with my money” (88). Again, though the line is intended as a joke, it implies Bryson’s authoritative position: He is both an American and an Englishman. There is something indelibly distinct about both cultures, and Bryson embodies each of them. When discussing the disappearing hedgerows throughout the British countryside, Bryson complains that “[t]hey are a central part of what makes England England. Without them, it would just be Indiana with steeples” (147). The implication is that he knows “what makes England England” because he is not from England himself.

Ultimately, he appreciates both cultures, as he also celebrates their differences; poking fun at something is often a way to reveal affection for it. Thus, he indulges in well-earned nostalgia for each. He travels throughout England on his “valedictory tour,” paying his respects to the place he has called home for 20 years (5). While on this tour, however, he is also reminded of everything else that constitutes his identity, including, and especially, his American-ness. After watching This Is Cinerama, with its sweeping vistas of American scenery, in the English city of Bradford, he thinks, “Yes, I am ready to go home” (179), by which he means the US. However, he does not end on that thought: “But first […] I’ll just have a curry” (179), by which he means one of the quintessential dishes of modern England, the result of its history of imperialism and immigration. On accepting his imminent departure from his adopted country, Bryson admits, “I shall miss it very much” (315). After the publication of this book, Bryson spent eight years back “home” in the US, but he then returned to England and is now officially a dual citizen, seeing his identity as both American and English.