The international-bestselling winner of the National Book Award and the basis for the Academy Award-winning film directed by John Ford. Huw Morgan remembers the days when his home valley was prosperous, verdant, and beautiful–before the mines came to town. The youngest son of a respectable mining family in South Wales, he is now the only one left in the valley, and his reminiscences tell the … his reminiscences tell the story of a family and a town both defined and ruined by the mines.
Huw’s story is both joyful and heartrending–a portrait of a place and a people existing now only in memory.
Full of memorable characters, richly crafted language, and surprising humor, How Green Was My Valley is the first of four books chronicling Huw’s life, including the sequels Up into the Singing Mountain, Down Where the Moon is Small, and Green, Green My Valley Now.
“The reader emerges from these tense pages strangely aglow with sharing the happiness of the characters . . . The simplicity of the language and its delicately strange flavor give the book added charm.” —Chicago Tribune
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A classic which reveals a different culture in a different era. Brave and knowledgeable writing.
I read this in Honors English my sophomore year of high school and it changed my life. First, the people are so real that I still feel like I knew them personally. Second, the depiction of a life and time (living in hard conditions, working the mines in South Wales, all with repercussions that could easily be fatal) that was so different from my own really helped me appreciate and empathize with others ever since. Third, I hated reading books that were required, simply because they were required. This book forced me to acknowledge that my teachers might actually have something to teach me. The impact must have been significant, because I’ve made a life of teaching to this day, as a college professor. It’s extremely well written and gripping. Highly recommended!
This gem of a novel about Welsh coal miners remains a classic for good reason. You can taste the meals that are described, just as you’ll want to scrub the coal dust off your hands and face as you read of the work below ground. The descriptive writing is powerful and unmatched, providing a lesson plan for budding novelists … or even for those who simply want to construct a solid sentence.
I was reminded of this book by a FB post and realized I had never read it! So I got the book and found one of the most inspirational books I have ever read. The characters are rich and the morality is refreshing. This is not a fairy tale, but a gritty book filled with life and all that it entails in a Welsh mining town. And, this is not necessarily an easy read, but it is well worth the time.
An older book that was well-written and a delight to read. This is one where you hate to end the book and say goodbye to the characters. It was an enlightened glimpse of life in the coal mining community in Wales where people cared for each other and made music at every opportunity.
Clearly, I was confused. I had it in my mind that How Green Was My Valley was a memoir, something along the lines of James Herriot. It’s not; it’s the fictional coming-of-age of Huw Morgan, youngest son of a mining family in the lush Welsh valleys…which are slowly being defaced and devoured by heaps of black slag.
Unfortunately, I didn’t like this book as much as I expected I would. The first reason is that I had trouble with the cadence. Richard Llewellyn has written the words – narrative and dialogue alike – in an honest and unmistakeable Welsh way. This adds to the authenticity of his work, certainly, but to an American reader, it’s a bit jarring to read a sentence such as “It is nothing to fly at hundreds of miles an hour, for indeed I think there is something to laugh about when a fuss is made of such nonsense.” Add to that the Welsh names and, well, I often felt like I was looking at words, rather than reading them. (I’m still not sure if the main character, Huw, would pronounce his name Hugh or Who or in some other way entirely. These things bother me.)
Beyond the prose itself, the story often felt a bit, dare I say, boring? I had a hard time caring about a boxing match for 10 pages, or a football match for a similar number, and too often I was left with the feeling that the event did nothing to move the story along. The lack of larger, external events compounded this for me. I must have been nearly halfway finished before the first reference to Queen Victoria clued me in to the approximate time that the story was set. In the end, I reckoned Llewellyn was writing in another time and for another audience, one that didn’t necessarily include me.
(This review was originally published at http://www.thisyearinbooks.com/2016/03/how-green-was-my-valley.html)
I read this book a long time ago, but I remember I thought it was a good story.
This book came to me with perfect timing. Coinciding with a life changing move. This book distracted me and comforted me through it all. Hence, it is one of my unforgettable favorites.
A classic which reveals a different culture in a different era. Brave and knowledgeable writing.
I read this in Honors English my sophomore year of high school and it changed my life. First, the people are so real that I still feel like I knew them personally. Second, the depiction of a life and time (living in hard conditions, working the mines in South Wales, all with repercussions that could easily be fatal) that was so different from my own really helped me appreciate and empathize with others ever since. Third, I hated reading books that were required, simply because they were required. This book forced me to acknowledge that my teachers might actually have something to teach me. The impact must have been significant, because I’ve made a life of teaching to this day, as a college professor. It’s extremely well written and gripping. Highly recommended!
This gem of a novel about Welsh coal miners remains a classic for good reason. You can taste the meals that are described, just as you’ll want to scrub the coal dust off your hands and face as you read of the work below ground. The descriptive writing is powerful and unmatched, providing a lesson plan for budding novelists … or even for those who simply want to construct a solid sentence.
I was reminded of this book by a FB post and realized I had never read it! So I got the book and found one of the most inspirational books I have ever read. The characters are rich and the morality is refreshing. This is not a fairy tale, but a gritty book filled with life and all that it entails in a Welsh mining town. And, this is not necessarily an easy read, but it is well worth the time.
An older book that was well-written and a delight to read. This is one where you hate to end the book and say goodbye to the characters. It was an enlightened glimpse of life in the coal mining community in Wales where people cared for each other and made music at every opportunity.
Clearly, I was confused. I had it in my mind that How Green Was My Valley was a memoir, something along the lines of James Herriot. It’s not; it’s the fictional coming-of-age of Huw Morgan, youngest son of a mining family in the lush Welsh valleys…which are slowly being defaced and devoured by heaps of black slag.
Unfortunately, I didn’t like this book as much as I expected I would. The first reason is that I had trouble with the cadence. Richard Llewellyn has written the words – narrative and dialogue alike – in an honest and unmistakeable Welsh way. This adds to the authenticity of his work, certainly, but to an American reader, it’s a bit jarring to read a sentence such as “It is nothing to fly at hundreds of miles an hour, for indeed I think there is something to laugh about when a fuss is made of such nonsense.” Add to that the Welsh names and, well, I often felt like I was looking at words, rather than reading them. (I’m still not sure if the main character, Huw, would pronounce his name Hugh or Who or in some other way entirely. These things bother me.)
Beyond the prose itself, the story often felt a bit, dare I say, boring? I had a hard time caring about a boxing match for 10 pages, or a football match for a similar number, and too often I was left with the feeling that the event did nothing to move the story along. The lack of larger, external events compounded this for me. I must have been nearly halfway finished before the first reference to Queen Victoria clued me in to the approximate time that the story was set. In the end, I reckoned Llewellyn was writing in another time and for another audience, one that didn’t necessarily include me.
(This review was originally published at http://www.thisyearinbooks.com/2016/03/how-green-was-my-valley.html)
Classic