Two up, two down
We talk about Potter as a timeless series, as quills and parchment will never date, but there are a few key elements which are of their time, and I sometimes suspect that eventually, their original meaning may be lost.
Snape’s house in Spinner’s End is one of these. If you visit Surrey, a house akin to Number 4 on Privet Drive can be found on hundreds of identical estates. Indeed, the three-bedroom house with a garage, and both front and back gardens, situated on a private housing estate in leafy surburbia is one that most British people will have strolled through at some point.
But Snape’s house in Spinner’s End is the opposite of the Dursleys’ aspirational abode, and is somewhere that few modern readers will have seen in its original form with their own eyes. Snape’s house in Spinner’s End is a traditional two up, two down through terraced house, mired deep in a maze of identical cobbled streets, overlooked by a looming mill chimney, and seemingly – by the 90s – entirely abandoned.
The difficulty that some may have in accurately picturing this scene is because these houses, in this state, no longer exist. A large percentage of two up, two down terraces were demolished as part of slum clearance, which should tell you all that you need to know about the state of the houses.
Those which remained have been extensively modified – usually knocking down the privy (outside toilet), and then building a two storey extension across the bulk of the yard to create a third room downstairs, and a bathroom upstairs. Some houses only have a single extension; it is rather common in some areas of the Midlands to have a bathroom that leads off the kitchen downstairs – because the bathroom was the missing room, and it was cheaper to build one storey than two.
Pottermore had an article earlier in the year which explained how the filmmakers originally wanted to film on location, but could not, because the houses simply did not exist in their traditional state.
The houses were typically constructed with two rooms downstairs and two rooms upstairs with a tiny backyard entry leading to the outhouse. Craig actually considered shooting on location, but even though the buildings were intact, they had been brought into the modern era, with up-to-date kitchens and plastic extensions, so the set was built at the studio.
Throughout the 20th century, cobbled streets were routinely replaced by various other road surfaces, namely tarmac and asphalt – and, of course, the scarcity of cobblestones now means that such streets are aesthetically desirable. However, the cobblestones in Spinner’s End are not an indication of affluence, but an indication of an area left behind. This is further illustrated by the rusted railings, the broken streetlights, and the boarded up windows.
These were workers houses, often funded by the owners of the mill, and therefore tied – meaning that rent was deducted from your wage before you received it. There were benefits to being in tied accommodation, including being close to work and having a guaranteed landlord – but that was as much benefit to the mill owner as the worker. Seeing great competition, some mill owners invested in their properties to entice workers – but Spinner’s End is not an example of this; Spinner’s End would’ve been regarded as little better than a slum even when fully occupied.
The narrow streets are indicative of when these houses were built, presumably in the late 1800s – cars were not a concern, and the attitude was to build as many houses on as small a piece of land as possible.
By the time the 90s roll around, and we see Narcissa and Bellatrix descend upon the street, Spinner’s End appears to be mostly deserted. With the closure of traditional manual industries, families would be keen to relocate to where work could be found. Estates which hadn’t already been cleared by the 60s would find themselves left to rack and ruin, their former occupants long gone – whether seeking a new life elsewhere, or having died.
For once, Bellatrix is not being anti-Muggle when she sneers at the Muggle dunghill; she is unnervingly accurate. It is a slum by her standards, but most importantly, it was a slum by everyone else’s standards as well. By the time Severus was born, work should’ve been well under way to clear the area, or to renovate it. This evidently did not occur – which itself explains how undesirable the area is; nobody wanted to spruce it up - they wanted to leave. There were no jobs, no amenities, no services – and eventually, no people.
We often ponder why Snape remains at Spinner’s End, but perhaps there lies the answer; he wasn’t just hiding from the magical world, but he was also hiding from the Muggle world as well…
It always fucks me up when people and fanfictions ignore the fact that Snape was CANONICALLY born in a slum and lived his childhood in a slum. It is a part of his character that is so rarely explored in fics. Because from young Snapes’s point of view, even the Weasleys would have looked rich. And then he had to share dorms with people like Malfoys and Blacks. It just fucks me up.
The cycle of poverty that informs Snape’s behaviour and the classism inherent in the bullying that Snape experiences at Hogwarts are endlessly fascinating to me, and something that fandom as a whole does not take into account nearly enough. I wrote once about the potential psychology behind Snape’s decision to remain in Spinner’s End, but this visceral – and historical – reminder of exactly how desperately poor the Snapes were is important.
Americans especially don’t have a native understanding of this – for Americans, these kinds of industrial slums were largely already a thing of the past by the 1950s, when America was experiencing a post-WWII economic boom. This is not to say that no American in the 1950s was trapped in poverty, but overall American society was made richer by the war. British society, on the other hand, was still recovering from wartime scarcity, rationing, and destruction, and industrial slums were still very much a part of its makeup.
The Snapes were poor in a way from which it was virtually impossible to escape. The Snapes were not poor like the Weasleys, who are poor by wizarding standards but never go hungry and never live in literal filth. The Snapes are poor by Muggles standards, by post-WWII Britain standards, by anyone’s standards. The Snapes were the kind of poor that seeps into your pores at the earliest age and never leaves. The kind of poor that informs almost everything about Snape, from his idolization of magical society, to the way he deals with social humiliation, to his arrogant rage masking a deep-seated self-hatred, and especially to his resentment of popular, loved, pampered, wealthy James Potter.
I saw a post a few months ago that talked about how Snape going to Hogwarts was almost analogous to a poor kid in the UK getting a scholarship in a really fancy public school (like Eton) due to his intelligence but then gets bullied by the richer kids because he’s not one of them. It is a comparison that I found very interesting because of course in some of these private schools kids can get scholarships and stuff but they never truly belong in that same social circle, i.e. they would never go on nice fancy holidays or school trips etc. It is certainly an interesting mirror of Snape always seemed to struggle fitting in Hogwarts due to his poverty and I feel like its something thats very specific to the British social class system
This is very true. My partner was one. He was sufficiently impressive at primary school to be scholarshiped into the posh private school. He was even moved up a year as he was truly gifted. And it was unmitigated hell for him. Kids he grew up with shunned him as a class traitor, for putting on airs, for trying to advance out of a fairly shabby area. The kids at his school? Shunned him for being a jumped up oik reaching above his station. He was never one of them in their eyes. Despite his intelligence he did not go on the tertiary education. He was so beaten down by the expectations foisted on him and the social exclusion it entailed he went straight off to get a job as soon as he could. These are the ways that the classist segregation in the UK in the 1970s and 80s worked. I imagine they still work like that now. Severus would very much be in the same state of “crab bucket” but even worse because he cannot talk about his school, or his achievements. Middle class Lily going to a school for the gifted? Wouldn’t raise an eyebrow with the neighborhood gossips. Snape the gutter snipe going to a boarding school? The curtains wouldn’t stop twitching over it. And most of the people on his street would actively want him to fail. That lie about St Brutus secure school for the incorrigible would have been far more feasible and acceptable to the residents of Spinner’s End. It would satisfy their resentment of him “rising above” his natural station and confirm their prejudice that he’d come to a bad end. There is still a huge prejudice around poverty, the very concept of worthy and unworthy poor still permeates the media, any articles about poverty and the benefits system will be riddled with these underlying assumptions that the really poor, the most desperate and least likely to ever get out of the grinding poverty, have brought it upon themselves. They are often painted as deserving their misery. Severus position straddling both worlds but belonging to neither, not being welcomed on either side of the divide is truly one of the most resonant aspects of his character to me.
You only have to look at George Osborne being given the nickname ‘oik’ in his days in the Bullingdon Club at Oxford University, for the crime of going to the third poshest school in the country (St Paul’s, rather than Eton or Harrow) and for his father being ‘in trade’. His father, of course, founded Osborne & Little - and as the wikipedia article cites, Osborne holds a 15% stake in it, worth between £15m - £30m.
Indeed, you don’t have to go as far as public school for this to be true; Snape is of the grammar school era. Snape is the kid who comes from the sink estate who passes his 11+ entrance exam against all odds. When he reaches the school, where he’s fairly earned his place on intellectual merit (or in Hogwarts’ case, magical ability), he sticks out like a sore thumb. He has the aptitude, but not the social background.
It’s why the depiction of James is equally important. He’s similar to Snape in his magical ability - but he’s got the background that Snape hasn’t. He’s wealthy, pampered, entitled. James meets Snape and simply can’t comprehend why such a boy is also at the same school - remember, he meets Sirius at the same time, who also states that he’s from a Slytherin background and James’ reaction isn’t quite the same as it is with Snape. “Blimey, and I thought you were all right.” (or similar) James had already made that value judgement; he’d already recognised that Sirius is from a similar sort of background.
When their journeys start, both boys are brimming with confidence (remember how Harry saw Snape by the river as cutting an impressive figure), but it doesn’t take long for James to be the boy who is regarded as popular, sporty, talented etc whilst Snape visibly wilts. He’s twitchy, anxious, an oddball…as the text says, it’s as if he’s a plant kept in the dark.
Indeed, it’s no mistake that James - and in the modern era, Draco - is talented on a broom. It’s no mistake that Harry, as a toddler, is given a broom. It’s no mistake that the Weasley family are all talented with broom in hand, their prowess at Quidditch undeniable. It’s no mistake then, that Snape picks up a broom and fails - some will claim it’s talent, but we see him mastering flight as an adult…it feels to me that this is a very clear indication that Snape wasn’t given the same opportunities. He got to the school, but he didn’t have the extra-curricular assistance that others had the benefit of.
There is a very important parallel that James and Sirius don’t accept Severus because Severus’ background makes him other - just as the Death Eaters and their ilk don’t accept Lily because Lily’s bloodline makes her other.
Snape succeeds against the odds - and what’s wholly tragic about the entire thing is that he succeeds against the odds because he’s a tool in the war. He doesn’t become a professor, or a housemaster, or headmaster on merit. He succeeds because he’s being used.
Saw this article on Moss Side in Manchester on BBC News, which feels pertinent to this discussion:
There was a rise in poverty in the whole of the North West in the 1970s, as a lot of jobs moved to London and old industries began to disappear.
A programme of “slum clearance” took place, where lots of working class people’s houses in the area were demolished.
“This forces people who are very happy to be in a place like Moss Side into different suburbs, away from their networks, churches, extended families and friends.
“So you see a very sudden rupture of strong communities,” says Dr Wildman.
I think a lot about the Cokeworth that Eileen Prince moved to when she first encountered the Muggle world, and the one her son was left with when he had sole occupancy of the family home in the 90s.
