A masterly evocation of his early life in Cumbria . . . Bragg’s book, the best thing he’s ever written, imbues the overused literary adjective “piercing” with real meaning . . . I can’t hope to capture, in the space I have here, this book’s extraordinary geography, let alone its strange, inchoate beauty: the way that Bragg, in his struggle fully to explain his meaning, so often hits on something wise and even numinous (when he does, it’s as if a bell sounds). All I can say is that I loved it

A childhood memoir bursting with affection and gruff love . . . a charming account of a lost era, full of details and often lyrical descriptions of people and places . . . If it sounds idealised, it isn’t. Bragg is clear-eyed about the ‘harshness under the surface’ . . . a fascinating and often moving portrait of a time, a place and a working-class boy who fell in love with words and made a distinguished career out of using them extremely well.

A moving portrait of a lost England . . . As a feat of dramatised recollection Back in the Day is remarkable. The Boys’ Own scrapes and japes – an apple orchard raid, a gang hideout dug into a river bank – come alive like set pieces from his beloved Jennings.

Utterly captivating . . . [Bragg] bears his audience in mind, never writing a dull or self-indulgent sentence and thinking about and celebrating other people on every page . . . it’s full of rapture and the joy of everything . . . there are darker sides to the story, and they too kept me gripped . . . Bragg is such a persuasive writer, with such clear recall, that he even recreates the excitement of a sixth-form English lesson. I got totally caught up with his falling in love with learning and knowledge.’

Wonderfully rich, endearing and unusual . . . a balanced, honest picture . . .The smoky, damp and introverted world in which livestock are still sold in the town centre, and horses are only slowly ceding to motor cars, is brought to life with subtle skill. Wigton’s streets become soot-streaked theatre for a huge cast of town characters for whom the author shows a convincing, rather than patronising, affection . . . If any of our current political leaders wants to create a vision that actually makes people want to vote, they could do worse than prescribe this to their MPs as required summer reading.

Beautifully written, lyrical and romantic, touching and tender . . . I enjoyed and admired it all.

Rawly truthful and engaging . . . There is a blissful absence of cliché in this personal odyssey, which is at the same time a fascinating essay in social history.

Disarmingly poignant . . . In other hands this tale would easily be the stuff of cliché, except that Bragg fills every memory and anecdote with both meaning and feeling . . . He has written some 40 books and this lovely memoir is surely the most affecting of them all.

A wonderfully full and detailed picture of one particular place at a particular time and an evocation of Melvyn Bragg’s intense and enduring involvement in it

A wonderful memoir . . . a truly great book about what it means to come from somewhere, to be of a culture, to be cultured not in the rarest but the most communal sense.

He has an amazing memory for detail, but what shines through it all is his love for the place and its people. That makes the book very special.

An extraordinary work – eloquent, charming, insightful, vivid, touching, and a true work of literature

Exquisitely penned . . . a love letter to his youth and to those who peopled it. A book you’ll return to again and again.

Melvyn Bragg is a broadcasting legend and an accomplished novelist but this is his finest work and an instant classic. It’s an affecting and evocative account of his working-class upbringing in the small Cumbrian market town of Wigton and a vivid Cider With Rosie-style portrait of a particular place and time.

Back in the Day paints a vivid and captivating picture of Bragg’s early childhood . . . Bragg’s childhood, spent running madly about the streets with his friends . . . is set against an unforgettably affectionately drawn backdrop of kind but strict grown-ups who laced the place with a sliver of fear . . . What is incredible is that Bragg has written the memoir . . . completely from memory.

This wonderfully authentic and often moving account of Bragg’s childhood up to the time he leaves for university, is a heartfelt celebration of family life in a working-class community during the 1940s and 50s. It brims with beautifully observed details

Affectingly tracing his ascent from working-class Wigton to Hampstead intelligentsia, Bragg’s first memoir is a homage to his boyhood Cumbria – and to the golden era of social mobility which gave him a leg up