Sep 5, 2021

More than you ever thought you could learn about concertinas

I'm reading The anglo-German concertina, a social history, volume 1" - it's a daunting book of hundreds of pages of fascinating information.  At least to me.  You wouldn't think there would need to be multiple volumes, but there are two so far.  It goes into excruciating detail, and then does a deep dive on each point.  



I really didn't think I could read all of it, so I was just going through and reading the captions and looking at the pictures.  But I kept finding myself going into the text to get a better explanation of the illustrations, to the point that I was just reading everything. So I went back and just started over.  I figured I would skip the minutiae as needed, as one doesn't really need to know the history of a specific concertina maker in England who was the apprentice to an apprentice.  But of course, once you get into the text you're led to that information in a way that makes you want to know.

There is fascinating trivia, but also valuable history such as the origin of the names of the types of concertinas.  A quick summary: There are two most common types of concertinas, the English and the Anglo.  Of course that would be confusing, since they're the same definition.  But as it turns out the English built concertinas were custom made and only affordable to the upper classes.  When the Germans started building them cheaply in factories and exporting them to England they were called German concertinas.  But they were cheap and low quality.  So the British sellers asked the Germans to make theirs look more like the English (6 sided, not 4) and eventually people were asking the custom concertina (English) makers to make high quality German concertinas.   Because they wanted buyers to know they were of the higher English quality, they started calling them Anglo German concertinas.  When the world wars came, Brits didn't want to buy anything German, so it was shortened to Anglo concertina.  There are enough differences between the two types that they need those distinct names, and thus they live on to this day.
Telling the tale isn't enough, so research into the incidences of the word concertina in all manner of sources reveals trends and such using graphs and tables.

Ok, so you might think that's a bit too much information but those are the points I just love.  There are other stories and descriptions that include historical documents, quotes from literature, and even legal documents.

To illustrate a decline in profitablity of concertinas buskers, they include a court transcript of an alimony dispute.  The husband was making less than he was when alimony was determined, and wanted it lowered.  They brought in experts and other buskers for their testimony.  It doesn't sound like a big deal but they were making the equivalent of $50,000 per year just by playing concertinas on the street. Victorian London had so many different types of buskers that the book describes each distinct type. When you think that's enough and you want to move on, the next section turns out to be detailed descriptions of each type of busker with further evidence and so forth. The section on blind people who are getting around the anti-begging laws by playing concertinas poorly is particularly fascinating.
While there were some street musicians who were quite skilled and made good money there were also street musicians (of all instrument types) that simply played poorly so people would pay them to move on. They even go into the distinction of different types of reporting on the quality of busker. For example the upper classes thought it was coarse and obnoxious so they reported it as being a public nuisance. The middle and lower classes, however, found it to be a fun distraction from things like public transportation or simply carrying on down the street. So they actually liked it.

I won't go on because I'm sure this is far more information than any non concertina playing person would want on concertinas, but to me it's mesmerizing. Every amusing story or interesting fact makes me want to pass it on to anyone who will listen, and I think things like "I should do a concertina history podcast so the kids of today would watch!" (since they don't read) and then I realize it's probably a bit too obscure.

Unfortunately the reason I'm reading right now is that my tremor is bad enough that doing things on my phone is tricky, and I'm even just voice transcribing this post. So here I am with the last thing I am able to do, and it turns out to actually be satisfying.

Sounds boring but it's fascinating.  Pictures taken right out of the book with no proper credit given.  :)