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Oh those madcap 1960s! Bliss it was to be young and alive in the decade that swung, with all the opportunities available to everyone, regardless of class and social and economic circumstances. Pity the older generation, stuck in its fuddy-duddy ways, born too soon to enjoy the brave new world of sexual liberation and easy affluence, not to mention groovy clothes.

On the face of it, this is the world presented in the 1963 film What A Crazy World, written by Alan Klein and produced and directed by Michael Carreras.

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I Dreamed I Married Perry Mason, by Susan Kandel

This is the first in a series of five mystery novels featuring the beguilingly named Cece Caruso. Cece is a 39-year-old resident of Los Angeles, a biographer of classic crime writers and an aficionado of vintage fashion. Now that’s a pie full of juicy plums if ever there was one. And there are more.

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The 1959 film Serious Charge, directed by Terence Young, may well have slipped beneath the radar of youth audiences then and later. It was promoted as being the debut movie role of Cliff Richard, a draw for some but by no means all of the teenage demographic.

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The recent death of the inestimable Glenda Jackson has prompted much discussion about her work in film and theatre (not to mention her political activities), much of which focuses on the diverse range and stunning impact of her stage appearances. In a retrospective which offers so much choice, John Schlesinger’s 1971 movie Sunday Bloody Sunday may be overlooked.

The film superbly evokes its time, the cusp of the 1960s/70s, and convincingly and in some cases excruciatingly presents the lives of London liberal, professional middle classes, a section of society which nowadays might be called the metropolitan elite.

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The theme of rural or provincial innocents abroad in the wicked city is a familiar source of comedy and satire.

In the 1967 British film Smashing Time, starring Rita Tushingham and Lynn Redgrave, the innocents are Northern girls Brenda and Yvonne, and the city is London in the latter throes of its Swinging Sixties’ phase.

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There might not be a better time to become acquainted with the world of Isabel Dalhousie, the amateur sleuth who is the main character in Alexander McCall Smith’s Sunday Philosophy Club series.

The series follows Isabel’s life in Edinburgh, a privileged life which is lived at a gentle pace, in which personal and social problems are tackled with thoughtfulness and consideration of moral and ethical issues. Wow. Sitting up straighter?

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Among the estimable body of work produced by the author Jill Paton Walsh is a series of four detective novels featuring Imogen Quy, an intriguing addition to the genre of amateur sleuth.

Imogen is a woman who abandoned her medical degree at Oxford University to follow her boyfriend Frank to America, where, yes, you’ve got it, she is dumped by the bounder.

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SPOILER ALERT: This article refers to story points in the film

The title of the 1961 film, No Love for Johnnie, directed by Ralph Thomas and starring Peter Finch as Labour politician Johnnie Byrne, suggests that its focus is on love rather than politics.

Johnnie’s unhappy personal life is indeed essential to the narrative, and the three women with whom he is involved provide plot points and insights into his character, but it’s the political story which has real bite and verve.

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Some people welcome a drift towards a cashless society, lauding the advantages of virtual transactions in which no actual money changes hands. This school of thought may underestimate the social and economic benefits of cash.

Furthermore, real solid money in the form of pennies and sixpences and shillings and two-bobs and half-crowns in the UK (and their decimal successors, although they haven’t become embodied in the national imagination in quite the same way) and folding notes of different hues, have for decades not only weighed down our pockets but have coloured the way we speak and the way we see the world.

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You had to be young, really young, and perhaps a girl, to give Tell Laura I Love Her the whole-hearted, weepy, emotional response it deserved.

The song, originally written and recorded by Ray Peterson in 1960 and released in America, was initially judged to be ‘too tasteless and vulgar for the English sensibility’. Yeah, right. Welsh singer Ricky Valance, who died recently at the age of 84, took this on the chin, and took his own swoony, maudlin version of the song to the top of the UK charts in October 1960.

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Retro Reads: The Village by Marghanita Laski

On May 7, 1945 the BBC in London interrupted its scheduled programme with a newsflash. The war in Europe was over. The following day would be a national holiday. The celebrations which swept through the country on VE-Day are well documented — the celebrating crowds, the dancing, the street parties, the bonfires, the flags and bunting, the relief and thanksgiving that the darkest hours of suffering and danger were over.

Prime Minister Winston Churchill broadcast to the nation at 3pm on that day and gave an impromptu speech to cheering crowds in central London. Later that evening King George VI made his wireless address to the people.

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