A reprint of a modern classic, a perfect blend of truth and falsehood retelling the author's lifestory, from childhood and adolescence in the Rhondda valleys, to life in London, France and Germany during his mid-thirties, including an introduction by Simon Baker. First published in 1969.

Adargraffiad o glasur modern, sy'n gyfuniad perffaith o wirionedd a chelwydd, yn adrodd hanes bywyd yr awdur, o blentyndod a llencyndod yng nghymoedd y Rhondda, i fywyd yn Llundain, Ffrainc a'r Almaen yn ystod ei dri-degau, yn cynnwys rhagarweiniad gan Simon Baker. Cyhoeddwyd gyntaf ym 1969.

Coming to this book (first published in 1969) with next to no knowledge of Rhys Davies’s work, it was impossible not to be aware of apparent resonances – not only of content but of style too – of Caradoc Evans, Gwyn Thomas, Glyn Jones, Dylan Thomas, Idris Davies, even How Green Was My Valley. He certainly saw himself as an Anglo-Welsh writer, and refers to his ‘policy of ridding Anglo-Welsh writing of flannel and bringing some needed flesh tints to it’ (not a suit in which it would strike one as short).

The book is divided into two parts: Part One is set in Wales, Part Two in Bloomsbury, the south of France, Germany, and returning to Wales at the conclusion. The Bloomsbury section is the least satisfactory, concerned as it is with that too-often evoked small enclave of self-regarding, complacent, patronizing individuals – a little world as parochial as that of today’s Sunday supplements, which seemed to attract so many starry-eyed aspirants and gave them the sense of being hopelessly provincial unless they adopted its self-conscious bohemianism.

In contrast, the evocation of a modest existence in Nice is unpretentious, having as its centrepiece meetings with D.H. Lawrence and Frieda at their hotel in Bandon: ‘I felt he could unfailingly detect the "smart" in writing, the vogue millinery and cosmetics of literary fashion, its stylish and favoured wearers the real provincials, however metropolitan their reputations’. Like Rhys Davies, he came from a mining community and ‘kindled to my accounts of the social and economic struggles in the Rhondda. My miniature lecture on the difference between England and Wales was not needed’.

The absorbing and uncritical account of Lawrence is one of two full-length portraits in the book: the other is of Dr William Price of Llantrisant. The assignment of a chapter of his autobiography to the apostle of naturism, vegetarianism, socialism and cremation, indicates a warm appreciation of Dr Price’s stance: ‘I picked up word-of-mouth memories of the troublesome pagan and rebel,’ he records, ‘and later still ferreted other material in Cardiff, the British Museum and the Welsh bookshop of my friend Will Griffiths in London’ (which this reviewer remembers well).

By far the most vivid writing in the book is found in the sections set in the Valleys. Though they deal with stock materials – strikes, disasters, funerals, chapels, the Italian shop, the county school – they do so in a rich and individual manner. There is, for example, a superb set piece evoking a collier’s kitchen, Watkin and his father bathing in front of the fire while the women of the family bustle around them at household tasks. Into this steps Miss Ceridwen, ‘an important noise in a popular Baptist chapel’, selling tickets for a performance of Elijah. No one wants to buy one. ‘The fact is,’ said Watkin, putting a firelit golden leg into his trousers, ‘there’s too much bloody singing in this place. It’s the opium of the people.’

Raymond Garlick

It is possible to use this review for promotional purposes, but the following acknowledgement should be included: A review from www.gwales.com, with the permission of the Welsh Books Council.

Gellir defnyddio’r adolygiad hwn at bwrpas hybu, ond gofynnir i chi gynnwys y gydnabyddiaeth ganlynol: Adolygiad oddi ar www.gwales.com, trwy ganiatâd Cyngor Llyfrau Cymru.