Sometimes an excerpt says more about a book than any lengthy review or essay trying to pay homage to it.Įven though I personally had a couple of issues with the story, as a reader I’ll readily admit that ‘How Green Was My Valley’ is an exquisitely well written family saga/ coming-of-age story. Of me was the Valley and the Valley was of me, and every blade of grass, and every stone, and every leaf of every tree, and every knob of coal or drop of water, or stick or branch or flower or grain of pollen, or creature living, or dust in ground, all were of me as my blood, my bones, or the notions from my mind.” – excerpt from ‘How Green Was My Valley’. “The wind held up above his head the sound of the choir from the Chapel for me to hear, and gave it back, but in those few notes I heard the rich, male voice of the men of the Valley, golden, brave, and clean, with heart, and with loftiness of spirit, and I knew that their voice was my voice for I was part of them as they were of me, and the Valley was part of us and we were part of the Valley, not one more than the other, never one without the other. How Green Was My Valley (c) Richard Llewellyn, 1939
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