What he began with his wonderful "The Road to Nab End", William Woodruff continues in this, his detailed, personal, and very human portrayal of his years spent in London, Oxford, and elsewhere. As with his previous book, I had some difficulty in bringing myself to stop reading, forcing myself at the close of a chapter to lay the book aside and get on with my day. What Woodruff captures here is a decidedly British perspective on both class divisions and the stubborn tenacity of some in believing that these "divisions" do not have to divide and separate. Even if one is the son of lower-class weavers from the dirt and grey of Blackburn, life, love, education, and possibility can be experienced in profound, beautiful, and newly heartbreaking ways.
We follow Woodruff as a sixteen-year-old into the factories of London, Woodruff as political aspirant (with necessary scholarships) into the halls of Oxford, Woodruff as a bonafide student deeper and deeper into his love for learning, and Woodruff as a fading pacifist into the fog of World War II. It is a journey that is at times alternately touching, embarrassing, frustrating, and inspiring, one which (particularly if the reader has traveled with Woodruff as a young boy in the pages of his earlier book) finds you hoping like mad for this young man.
As we find ourselves grasping for holds upon an increasingly slippery slope, we would do well to read books such as these, honestly recounting the conflicted inner life of a world at war. Woodruff's account of his experiences preceding and leading through World War II serves well to remind the reader of several issues of grave importance, the first being Man's desperation to hold together some semblance of beauty in the face of such ugliness, and the second, ironically, being Man's tendency to paint faux beauty across the cannibal's face in order to justify the atrocity of war. Woodruff helps us to remember how blind nationalistic fervor can make us, and reminds us of the rampant danger inherent therein. Truthfully, only those of this generation can truthfully do this reminding, and they are fading quickly. Thankfully, even as those who walked through the darkness of world war are leaving this place, the accounts of their lives remain.
This is one account I will recommend without hesitation.