"The Journeying Boy" is a beautifully crafted travelogue, a charming history of Wales, and a nostalgic look back at one man's varied and interesting life. Jon Manchip White returns to his native Wales for the first time in twenty years and discovers that time has wrought immense change to this unusual and mysterious little country in the United Kingdom. While touring the country, White recounts his childhood in Cardiff, where his fore bears had lived since Norman times, spawning an entertaining crew of rich men and ne'er-do-wells, shipowners, sea captains, buccaneers, and murderers. From Cardiff, White travels to the coal country of Glamorgan and the Black Mountains, introducing an amazing panoply of odd Welsh characters, past and from kings and queens, poets and writers, to warriors, coal miners, and seamen. At the heart of the story in the singular and tragic nature of the Welash race--their language, their religion, their passion for music and literature, their love of life, and their obsession with death.
"We'll kiss away each hour of hiraeth" (the deep longing for home)
You never know with a book like this - return of the 60-ish prodigal and expatriate to the scenes of his youth. Are you going to get an insightful and thoughtful tour of the author's childhood homeland or a self-indulgent recounting of the author's greatest hits and a string of gripes about how much better things used to be? Well, it seems to me that here you get a fair amount of both, with some ghost reckoning to boot, but it is done with a high degree of style and personality. Anyway, at least, early on, you can get a sense of which way the wind will blow in any particular chapter and you can guide your reading, skimming and outright skipping accordingly.
I am happy to report that while there is a bit of that how-it-used-to-be-better posturing, and a bit more Manchip/White family history than I really needed, and some navel gazing about religion, and some score settling, for the much larger part our author plays fair with the reader and brings him along on a thoroughly engaging tour of this small country. White's travels and reminiscences center pretty much on Cardiff, (and especially the Docks that played a central role in his family's life), and the Glamorgan Valley. The first 100 pages or so of the book are devoted to a basic but thorough history of Wales, starting with the Beaker People and petering out with Owen Glendower. This is all schoolboy stuff for a Welshman, but I like to get everything back into my head when reading a book like this, and the history is lively and personable and serves as a solid orientation for the rest of the book.
While the book is organized as a random sort of walk-about, individual chapters have a general theme. And so we take a stroll through what's left of Cardiff's port, we consider the appeal of rugby, we contemplate our relationship with God at Llandaff Cathedral. There isn't too much in the way of politics, (White was vocally right of center), and a lot of broad generalizing about Welsh character that is, I guess, the stock in trade of ex-pat memoirists.
All of that said, this is generally a fond, affectionate, and evenhanded book full of high regard and admiration for the very best qualities of the Welsh character. When you add in a certain irascible charm, the combination won me over and I found myself enjoying this book even a bit more than I initially expected I would. A nice addition to the Wales shelf.