Until recently, so great was my ignorance, I had no idea such places really existed… And yet, even Middlesbrough, by accident as it were, has a kind of frightful loveliness which the yes of the younger generation, trained by the Cubists will be able to appreciate better than we can. Its miles and miles of ironworks, with their belching chimneys and enormous blast furnaces, their fantastic pipes and tubes and monstrous retorts, their sudden bursts of flame and rising columns of smoke – white brown or densest black – have a strange and dreadful beauty, macabre and terrifying. It is the only beauty, apart from the delicate outlines of it’s transporter bridge, that the town of Middlesbrough can boast. All else is mean with a meanness that has to be seen to be believed.
Gone Abroad, A Story of Travel, Chiefly in Italy and the Balearic Isles