Wednesday 16 June 2010

HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY (BOOK REVIEW)

HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY
RICHARD LLEWELLYN
FIRST PUBLISHED 1939
MY EDITION: NEL 1981
CURRENTLY AVAILABLE AS PART OF THE PENGUIN MODERN CLASSIC SERIES


This is one of those books that I've always promised myself I would read and yet never gotten around to it - however, upon seeing an old battered paperback copy for the grand total of 10p at my local boot sale, I thought now was the time to do so.

The author Richard Llewellyn spent much of his early years in my home village of Gilfach Goch and the fictional Welsh village in this novel is very much based on Gilfach - the pub in this book is called The Three Bells, obviously based on the Six Bells which once stood in Gilfach before being knocked down in the mid 70's. (In fact I remember playing amongst the ruins of this once grand building.) And reading the book I was very much reminded of the Gilfach I grew up in - during my childhood in the 1970's the coal industry was in its last stages but the signs of the past were still there. The mountains were still black with coal tips and slag heaps and the river ran thick, looking like tar, with the black dust washed into it from further up the valleys.



"Courage came to me from the height of the mountain, and with it came the dignity of manhood, and knowledge of the Tree of Life, for now I was a branch, running with the vital blood, waiting in the darkness of the Garden ....to bring forth sons and daughters I saw behind me those who had gone, and before me, those who were to come. I looked back and saw my father, and his father, and all our fathers, and in front, to see my son, and his son, and the sons upon sons beyond."

The novel is a hymn to a way of life now gone, narrated by the character Huw Morgan we see the struggles, joys and tragedies of this close knit coal mining community. The language used is beautiful and the story never falls into the trap of being overly sentimental. It reads real - when turning the pages some little detail would trigger a memory within myself and the secondary characters, especially Dai Bando reminded me of the old folk I knew while growing up.

’’There is no fence or hedge around time that has gone. You can go back and have what you like if you remember it well enough.’’


It truly is a joyous book, one that I plan to read again very soon and, although my Welsh connection ties me to the narrator, I think that anyone will enjoy this wonderful story. It's a story of a struggle, of men fighting against changing times and ultimately of family - now, that's universal.

If author Richard Llewellyn could see Gilfach now he would see that once more the valley is green, but a way of life has been lost forever. Though it can still be felt in the ground, in the buildings and in wonderful works of fiction such as this.

Left I have posted two pictures of Gilfach Goch as it was then and as it is now.


1 comment:

Ron Scheer said...

Enjoy. How fortunate to have others immortalize the place you grew up in fiction of almost any kind. I'd say that no one has ever written a novel about where I grew up in Nebraska. Except for Wright Morris, whose Lone Tree is located there, but I think he disliked Nebraska. There's nothing to make you feel even lukewarm with nostalgia when you read him.

I can identify some with Willa Cather, who's Red Cloud is about 75 miles south of where I grew up, but then she was writing about a time 100 years before.

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