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Wood and Stone
Wood and Stone was John Cowper Powys' first novel published in 1915. It is no prentice-work however - the author was already in his forties.
The novel is set in the area of south Somerset that John Cowper Powys grew up in. The village of Nevilton is based on Montacute where his father was vicar for many years. When he wrote it Powys was living in the USA and it is perhaps this absence that accounts for the heightened vividness of the descriptive writing.
Powys deploys a large and wonderfully delineated cast of characters. They are loosely divided between 'the well-constituted' and 'the ill-constituted'. Characteristically Powys favours the latter.
The novel is set in the area of south Somerset that John Cowper Powys grew up in. The village of Nevilton is based on Montacute where his father was vicar for many years. When he wrote it Powys was living in the USA and it is perhaps this absence that accounts for the heightened vividness of the descriptive writing.
Powys deploys a large and wonderfully delineated cast of characters. They are loosely divided between 'the well-constituted' and 'the ill-constituted'. Characteristically Powys favours the latter.
- GenresClassics
736 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1915
7 people are currently reading
58 people want to read
About the author
John Cowper Powys
167 books175 followersPowys was born in Shirley, Derbyshire, where his father was vicar. His mother was descended from the poet William Cowper, hence his middle name. His two younger brothers, Llewelyn Powys and Theodore Francis Powys, also became well-known writers. Other brothers and sisters also became prominent in the arts.
John studied at Sherborne School and Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and became a teacher and lecturer; as lecturer, he worked first in England, then in continental Europe and finally in the USA, where he lived in the years 1904-1934. While in the United States, his work was championed by author Theodore Dreiser. He engaged in public debate with Bertrand Russell and the philosopher and historian Will Durant: he was called for the defence in the first obscenity trial for the James Joyce novel, Ulysses, and was mentioned with approval in the autobiography of US feminist and anarchist, Emma Goldman.
He made his name as a poet and essayist, moving on to produce a series of acclaimed novels distinguished by their uniquely detailed and intensely sensual recreation of time, place and character. They also describe heightened states of awareness resulting from mystic revelation, or from the experience of extreme pleasure or pain. The best known of these distinctive novels are A Glastonbury Romance and Wolf Solent. He also wrote some works of philosophy and literary criticism, including a pioneering tribute to Dorothy Richardson.
Having returned to the UK, he lived in England for a brief time, then moved to Corwen in Wales, where he wrote historical romances (including two set in Wales) and magical fantasies. He later moved to Blaenau Ffestiniog, where he remained until his death in 1963.
John studied at Sherborne School and Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and became a teacher and lecturer; as lecturer, he worked first in England, then in continental Europe and finally in the USA, where he lived in the years 1904-1934. While in the United States, his work was championed by author Theodore Dreiser. He engaged in public debate with Bertrand Russell and the philosopher and historian Will Durant: he was called for the defence in the first obscenity trial for the James Joyce novel, Ulysses, and was mentioned with approval in the autobiography of US feminist and anarchist, Emma Goldman.
He made his name as a poet and essayist, moving on to produce a series of acclaimed novels distinguished by their uniquely detailed and intensely sensual recreation of time, place and character. They also describe heightened states of awareness resulting from mystic revelation, or from the experience of extreme pleasure or pain. The best known of these distinctive novels are A Glastonbury Romance and Wolf Solent. He also wrote some works of philosophy and literary criticism, including a pioneering tribute to Dorothy Richardson.
Having returned to the UK, he lived in England for a brief time, then moved to Corwen in Wales, where he wrote historical romances (including two set in Wales) and magical fantasies. He later moved to Blaenau Ffestiniog, where he remained until his death in 1963.
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December 30, 2017
These are my thoughts regarding, Wood and Stone by JCP (or Everything and the kitchen sink.)
Heaven help us! It is easy enough to criticize the lath and plaster which, in so many books, takes the place of flesh and blood…" (from the Preface)
I finished reading this a week ago and have been letting the last of it simmer before I could write about it. I always come away from one of Powys’ books feeling discombobulated, whelmed/ overwhelmed, tired, and maybe a wee bit cranky, which requires my revisiting multiple dog-eared pages, and searching for bits of this and that—the things haunting me, making my brain itch. I have a 1915 copyright G. Arnold Shaw, NY, blue cloth bound cover. I do love old books (collect them when I find them) and this one was a Christmas present from my Fred last year. It is in fine condition overall, a bit worn around the edges, but still a beauty, and readable. One of the previous owners wrote their name in pencil on the inside, it’s very faint [Thomas Kell or possibly Kelly.]
Do you have any idea how special it is to read a book that is over 100 years old? I’m tickled pink.
The Preface is worth the read—it’s quiet touching to read after reading the novel— I love this quote: "Art must prove itself to evoke the very tang and salt and bitter-sweetness of the actual pell-mell of life—its unfolding spaces, its shell-strewn depths…. Indeed. The pell-mell of life—you haven’t lived if you haven’t had pell-mell (I’ve experienced my share.)
I found it especially sweet that it is dedicated to Thomas Hardy. (Why am I not surprised that JCP admired him?) “One could hardly have the audacity to plant one’s poor standard in the heart of Wessex without obeisance being paid to the literary over-lord of that suggestive region. …The mention of his admirable name at the beginning of this book is no more than a humble salutation addressed to the monarch of that particular country, by a wayward nomad, lighting a bivouac-fire, for a brief moment, in the heart of a land that is not his.” Double indeed!
At first, I was a bit concerned knowing this is JCP’s first novel, but I’m always willing to give a book a chance to explain itself on its own terms, and trust the author to guide me on the journey he created. Being familiar with his later work, Wolf Solent, Weymouth Sands, Ducdame, and Porius initiated my natural curiosity to see how he started. “In the beginning there was Wood and Stone…”
Once I became immersed like I normally do with a JCP book—I have to admire how he manages the multiple directions of threads and stray bread crumbs scattered about, and resolving all of the plot knots, and keeping up with the Wotnots and Lickwits. (Yes, it is raw, it needed editing to fine tune it, but I’m partial to the rambling and raw, it doesn’t bother me.) What I do see about this book is he maintains a steady emotional bond—that is his focus, because life is never orderly, people perfectly compartmentalized, and in this small community, a lot happens. (Like watching Twin Peaks, you miss a few minutes or an entire episode, you’re screwed, you might as well wait for the reruns to catch what the Log Lady said—or in the case of Wood and Stone, what Witch Bessie said.) So yes, I dozed off a few times, dropped the book, and lost my place. I had to reread a fair amount, which is why it took me forever to read it. (Musn’t read a complex novel after taking an Advil PM!) What I also discovered in between the pages is a clear affection through it all, affection for the land, and faithfulness to the spirit, affection for the people, even the despicable—there’s a light-heartedness that is very human, which I always find in his novels. He loves to write! He loves painting pictures with words! The density of the writing—yes, commas and semi-colons aplenty, (which is so frowned upon these days,) but it’s the music of the language that is delightful. (I understand completely, and often, catch myself rambling on like I am now...)
The book also came with a piece of stationary from the Quinnipiac College Alumni Fund drive tucked in near the end (not sure what page because it fell out when I was reading along) on it are handwritten notes in brown ink (fountain pen type) listing several names of the characters (apparently, someone needed to keep track!) Speaking of keeping track of characters, I can always rely on JCP to tell a tale with a cast of characters, complete with multi-faceted plots concerning each individual, and the various overlapping of this one and that one, and a tangled web woven throughout of inter-related events. The names are always a treasure, unique, and at times revealing of the character in some way. There are the two stone cutters, Luke and James Anderson; the pair of Pariahs Mr. Maurice Quincunx and Miss Lacrima Traffio; the wise mystic fringe person, Witch Bessie (I simply adore her!) The wealthy bad dude, Mr. Romer, and his spoiled daughter Gladys; the tortured vicar Clavering; the admirable theologian Mr. Taxater, and the Christian socialist Mr. Wone (a star combination, that!); the wealthy American artist, Dangelis; Vennie Seldom, the delicate virgin aspiring nun. It wouldn’t be a JCP novel without the one or two odd people who ain’t quite right, Nance Purvis is one, but it’s James Anderson who started off normal enough until he tilted into the genetic off-kilter inherited from his mother the moment his mental wind blew a certain way.) I left out so many others, but that’s okay…
JCP’s descriptions of the natural world, the sublime atmosphere, botanical, animal; earthy life and decay is always enchanting—and there is always the constant awareness of past histories and pedigrees, landmarks (Leo’s Hill) and industries (the stone quarry) that are discussed at length. This is the sort of stuff that sets a reader’s feet on the main drag of Nevilton, creating a sense of direction.
The conflicts between (or acknowledgement of) the haves and have-nots, (the “well-constituted” and the “ill-constituted,” Nietzsche is mentioned in the Preface) which leads into the politics of the time—it just seemed uncanny considering the current climate we’re in—guh, how somethings never change! The references are endlessly on the mark.
The moral fiber of human nature, blasphemy and religion, Christianity (Catholicism vs Protestant), and yes, there’s always a Pagan vein running through those who allow themselves to remain open to all possibilities.
On page 440, the Wood and Stone schism as told by the theologian, Mr Taxater (he is often referred to as “the Papal apologist”) to James Anderson, the stone-carver, and Vennie Seldom:
“Come, come, my friend,” said Mr. Taxater… “You mustn’t talk like that! You people get a wrong perspective in things. Remember, this is no longer the Stone Age. The power of stone was broken once for all, when certain women of Palestine found that stone, which we’ve all heard of, lifted out of its place! Since then it is to wood—the wood out of which His cross was made—not to stone, that we must look.”
Just dipping back into the book to find that piece caused me to read ten pages or so—it’s a fascinating read, even in small random bites, which is part of the magic of a JCP novel—the revisiting after reading is always a pleasure. (I could reread it again.) And it’s the revisiting that allows me to feel less discombobulated. It is a pleasure to read for the story, and a pleasure to read deeply for the soul.
Not to disparage JCP’s work by saying this, but this is a bit like a soap opera…humor me on this, there is a good deal of melodrama going on, hanky-panky is suggested, and nothing seems quite settled, even when it is, and of course, there’s small town gossip. With that said—it wouldn’t be a book by JCP without the struggles of the inner landscape of the characters, delving into the psychological clockworks of each individual, their lusts, their worries, their rage, and their grief. Although most of the focus is on the variety of men and their schemes, thoughts, and passions, the portrayal of women is always a puzzle of fascination—how they are perceived by the men who revere them or despise them—they are celebrated for their beauty, lusted after, they cause endless misery, and are often looked to for their wisdom. The women themselves, their relations with one another is another puzzle; mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, sisters, cousins, companions, and rivals. One young woman, Gladys Romer, is a real piece of work, she’s an incorrigible flirt with anything in pants—specifically, the young stone carver, Luke Anderson (younger brother to James), the American artist, Mr. Dangelis, and she is the unrelenting tormentor of the vicar, Mr. Clavering. This girl is nothing but trouble (I knew my share of her type in school, so I had little sympathy for her.) The fragile ones, Vennie Seldom (aspiring nun), Ninsey Lintot (one of the ailing heart), then the assorted servant women, mothers (Mrs. Romer, Mrs. Seldom, and references to the departed, insane, Mrs. Anderson) and a handful of mischievous village maidens who vie for the attentions of Luke Anderson.
And then there are the Pariahs, these two are the center pieces of our story. Mr. Maurice Quincunx, and Miss Lacrima Traffio, Quincunx, the odd bachelor of Dead Man’s Cottage, is in love with Lacrima, and she with him, but because of their social status as Pariah’s they...here, this explains it best, from page 84
There are Pariahs in every village. It might be said that there are Pariahs in every family. The Pariah is one who is born with an innate inability to deal vigorously and effectively with his fellow animals. One sees these unfortunates every day—on the street, in the office, at the domestic hearth. One knows them by the queer look in their eyes; the look of animals who have been crushed rather than tamed…It is not only that they are weaker than the rest and less effectual. They are different. It is in their difference that the tragedy of their fate lies…
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Lacrima is chronically tormented by her cousin, Gladys, who takes pleasure in teasing the poor girl to the point of terror. One of the best parts occurs in Chapter 12, Auber Lake. This is probably one of the most intense displays of one of Gladys’ schemes to torture Lacrima, but it turns against her at the last moment that is a stunning and humorous blow to her ego. It was fantastic! JCP’s sense of humor is always a treat.
And so—JCP, magical story-telling, even back in 1915, the first of many fine tales. I have so many more to read! My collection continues to grow.
As I was writing this, I searched the web for other insights into this book—I occasionally find it hard to put into words what it is I am feeling, and seeing what others have to say helps—so here are a few bread crumbs to follow:
A Story of Interior Passion: Wood and Stone by John Cowper Powys
http://www.powys-lannion.net/Powys/LettrePowysienne/Passion.htm
Interesting article about the women in JCP’s books
http://www.powys-lannion.net/Powys/LettrePowysienne/PFCA.pdf
Beyond Yes and No: The Novels of John Cowper Powys https://journals.lib.unb.ca/index.php/IFR/article/view/13109
Heaven help us! It is easy enough to criticize the lath and plaster which, in so many books, takes the place of flesh and blood…" (from the Preface)
I finished reading this a week ago and have been letting the last of it simmer before I could write about it. I always come away from one of Powys’ books feeling discombobulated, whelmed/ overwhelmed, tired, and maybe a wee bit cranky, which requires my revisiting multiple dog-eared pages, and searching for bits of this and that—the things haunting me, making my brain itch. I have a 1915 copyright G. Arnold Shaw, NY, blue cloth bound cover. I do love old books (collect them when I find them) and this one was a Christmas present from my Fred last year. It is in fine condition overall, a bit worn around the edges, but still a beauty, and readable. One of the previous owners wrote their name in pencil on the inside, it’s very faint [Thomas Kell or possibly Kelly.]
Do you have any idea how special it is to read a book that is over 100 years old? I’m tickled pink.
The Preface is worth the read—it’s quiet touching to read after reading the novel— I love this quote: "Art must prove itself to evoke the very tang and salt and bitter-sweetness of the actual pell-mell of life—its unfolding spaces, its shell-strewn depths…. Indeed. The pell-mell of life—you haven’t lived if you haven’t had pell-mell (I’ve experienced my share.)
I found it especially sweet that it is dedicated to Thomas Hardy. (Why am I not surprised that JCP admired him?) “One could hardly have the audacity to plant one’s poor standard in the heart of Wessex without obeisance being paid to the literary over-lord of that suggestive region. …The mention of his admirable name at the beginning of this book is no more than a humble salutation addressed to the monarch of that particular country, by a wayward nomad, lighting a bivouac-fire, for a brief moment, in the heart of a land that is not his.” Double indeed!
At first, I was a bit concerned knowing this is JCP’s first novel, but I’m always willing to give a book a chance to explain itself on its own terms, and trust the author to guide me on the journey he created. Being familiar with his later work, Wolf Solent, Weymouth Sands, Ducdame, and Porius initiated my natural curiosity to see how he started. “In the beginning there was Wood and Stone…”
Once I became immersed like I normally do with a JCP book—I have to admire how he manages the multiple directions of threads and stray bread crumbs scattered about, and resolving all of the plot knots, and keeping up with the Wotnots and Lickwits. (Yes, it is raw, it needed editing to fine tune it, but I’m partial to the rambling and raw, it doesn’t bother me.) What I do see about this book is he maintains a steady emotional bond—that is his focus, because life is never orderly, people perfectly compartmentalized, and in this small community, a lot happens. (Like watching Twin Peaks, you miss a few minutes or an entire episode, you’re screwed, you might as well wait for the reruns to catch what the Log Lady said—or in the case of Wood and Stone, what Witch Bessie said.) So yes, I dozed off a few times, dropped the book, and lost my place. I had to reread a fair amount, which is why it took me forever to read it. (Musn’t read a complex novel after taking an Advil PM!) What I also discovered in between the pages is a clear affection through it all, affection for the land, and faithfulness to the spirit, affection for the people, even the despicable—there’s a light-heartedness that is very human, which I always find in his novels. He loves to write! He loves painting pictures with words! The density of the writing—yes, commas and semi-colons aplenty, (which is so frowned upon these days,) but it’s the music of the language that is delightful. (I understand completely, and often, catch myself rambling on like I am now...)
The book also came with a piece of stationary from the Quinnipiac College Alumni Fund drive tucked in near the end (not sure what page because it fell out when I was reading along) on it are handwritten notes in brown ink (fountain pen type) listing several names of the characters (apparently, someone needed to keep track!) Speaking of keeping track of characters, I can always rely on JCP to tell a tale with a cast of characters, complete with multi-faceted plots concerning each individual, and the various overlapping of this one and that one, and a tangled web woven throughout of inter-related events. The names are always a treasure, unique, and at times revealing of the character in some way. There are the two stone cutters, Luke and James Anderson; the pair of Pariahs Mr. Maurice Quincunx and Miss Lacrima Traffio; the wise mystic fringe person, Witch Bessie (I simply adore her!) The wealthy bad dude, Mr. Romer, and his spoiled daughter Gladys; the tortured vicar Clavering; the admirable theologian Mr. Taxater, and the Christian socialist Mr. Wone (a star combination, that!); the wealthy American artist, Dangelis; Vennie Seldom, the delicate virgin aspiring nun. It wouldn’t be a JCP novel without the one or two odd people who ain’t quite right, Nance Purvis is one, but it’s James Anderson who started off normal enough until he tilted into the genetic off-kilter inherited from his mother the moment his mental wind blew a certain way.) I left out so many others, but that’s okay…
JCP’s descriptions of the natural world, the sublime atmosphere, botanical, animal; earthy life and decay is always enchanting—and there is always the constant awareness of past histories and pedigrees, landmarks (Leo’s Hill) and industries (the stone quarry) that are discussed at length. This is the sort of stuff that sets a reader’s feet on the main drag of Nevilton, creating a sense of direction.
The conflicts between (or acknowledgement of) the haves and have-nots, (the “well-constituted” and the “ill-constituted,” Nietzsche is mentioned in the Preface) which leads into the politics of the time—it just seemed uncanny considering the current climate we’re in—guh, how somethings never change! The references are endlessly on the mark.
The moral fiber of human nature, blasphemy and religion, Christianity (Catholicism vs Protestant), and yes, there’s always a Pagan vein running through those who allow themselves to remain open to all possibilities.
On page 440, the Wood and Stone schism as told by the theologian, Mr Taxater (he is often referred to as “the Papal apologist”) to James Anderson, the stone-carver, and Vennie Seldom:
“Come, come, my friend,” said Mr. Taxater… “You mustn’t talk like that! You people get a wrong perspective in things. Remember, this is no longer the Stone Age. The power of stone was broken once for all, when certain women of Palestine found that stone, which we’ve all heard of, lifted out of its place! Since then it is to wood—the wood out of which His cross was made—not to stone, that we must look.”
Just dipping back into the book to find that piece caused me to read ten pages or so—it’s a fascinating read, even in small random bites, which is part of the magic of a JCP novel—the revisiting after reading is always a pleasure. (I could reread it again.) And it’s the revisiting that allows me to feel less discombobulated. It is a pleasure to read for the story, and a pleasure to read deeply for the soul.
Not to disparage JCP’s work by saying this, but this is a bit like a soap opera…humor me on this, there is a good deal of melodrama going on, hanky-panky is suggested, and nothing seems quite settled, even when it is, and of course, there’s small town gossip. With that said—it wouldn’t be a book by JCP without the struggles of the inner landscape of the characters, delving into the psychological clockworks of each individual, their lusts, their worries, their rage, and their grief. Although most of the focus is on the variety of men and their schemes, thoughts, and passions, the portrayal of women is always a puzzle of fascination—how they are perceived by the men who revere them or despise them—they are celebrated for their beauty, lusted after, they cause endless misery, and are often looked to for their wisdom. The women themselves, their relations with one another is another puzzle; mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, sisters, cousins, companions, and rivals. One young woman, Gladys Romer, is a real piece of work, she’s an incorrigible flirt with anything in pants—specifically, the young stone carver, Luke Anderson (younger brother to James), the American artist, Mr. Dangelis, and she is the unrelenting tormentor of the vicar, Mr. Clavering. This girl is nothing but trouble (I knew my share of her type in school, so I had little sympathy for her.) The fragile ones, Vennie Seldom (aspiring nun), Ninsey Lintot (one of the ailing heart), then the assorted servant women, mothers (Mrs. Romer, Mrs. Seldom, and references to the departed, insane, Mrs. Anderson) and a handful of mischievous village maidens who vie for the attentions of Luke Anderson.
And then there are the Pariahs, these two are the center pieces of our story. Mr. Maurice Quincunx, and Miss Lacrima Traffio, Quincunx, the odd bachelor of Dead Man’s Cottage, is in love with Lacrima, and she with him, but because of their social status as Pariah’s they...here, this explains it best, from page 84
There are Pariahs in every village. It might be said that there are Pariahs in every family. The Pariah is one who is born with an innate inability to deal vigorously and effectively with his fellow animals. One sees these unfortunates every day—on the street, in the office, at the domestic hearth. One knows them by the queer look in their eyes; the look of animals who have been crushed rather than tamed…It is not only that they are weaker than the rest and less effectual. They are different. It is in their difference that the tragedy of their fate lies…
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Lacrima is chronically tormented by her cousin, Gladys, who takes pleasure in teasing the poor girl to the point of terror. One of the best parts occurs in Chapter 12, Auber Lake. This is probably one of the most intense displays of one of Gladys’ schemes to torture Lacrima, but it turns against her at the last moment that is a stunning and humorous blow to her ego. It was fantastic! JCP’s sense of humor is always a treat.
And so—JCP, magical story-telling, even back in 1915, the first of many fine tales. I have so many more to read! My collection continues to grow.
As I was writing this, I searched the web for other insights into this book—I occasionally find it hard to put into words what it is I am feeling, and seeing what others have to say helps—so here are a few bread crumbs to follow:
A Story of Interior Passion: Wood and Stone by John Cowper Powys
http://www.powys-lannion.net/Powys/LettrePowysienne/Passion.htm
Interesting article about the women in JCP’s books
http://www.powys-lannion.net/Powys/LettrePowysienne/PFCA.pdf
Beyond Yes and No: The Novels of John Cowper Powys https://journals.lib.unb.ca/index.php/IFR/article/view/13109
July 21, 2017
Reading this novel, the first one written by John Cowper Powys (JCP), my favorite author, was a fascinating experience. I had read elsewhere that this book and his other two early novels were terrible and not worth reading, his first great work being Wolf Solent. However he wrote it right after his excellent Visions and Revisions, so I was curious as to how bad it could be. Plus it was very popular at the time, was reviewed well, and went through multiple editions.
Despite its poor reputation, it was in many ways "classic" JCP: it was all there, the incredible nature descriptions, sometimes reading like a botanist's catalogue but vividly capturing the moods that nature can provide, the incredible Dostoyevskian insight, particularly into what is best called "human perversity" (not sexual but more behavior driven, like the way lovers act absurdly or how some people deliberately torment another psychologically to show power over that person), and the frequent obscure literary references. There were some truly incredible scenes, perhaps my favorite when Gladys and Lacrima go to Auber Lake (name taken from Poe's "Ulalume"), and startle the geese, which was both a stunning nature scene and a fascinating look into one of the characters.
I will concede that it was a little "raw" - and in need of the editing which was provided by Phyllis Plater in JCP's later books, but honestly I thought it in some ways made the book better. But still, Powys was writing at age 42, he's a developed (perhaps not mature) writer.
So, ultimately, Wood and Stone is brilliant, fascinating, personally meaningful, and filled me throughout with that unique feeling that I get from JCP' work, which is really a sublime feeling of pure joy of existence at the beauty of the world and the wonder of humanity. The book made me just incredibly happy that I live in it, perhaps because at the very bottom it is absurd and "perverse", not just people but the way random fate affects the paths of our lives. Regardless, this book is a tremendous affirmation of life.
Anyway I loved this book, especially with all its faults. It's not a masterpiece or a "classic" but an very enjoyable read. I usually recommend Wolf Solent to people as their first JCP book as it is readily available, but I think most people find it just a little too odd. This might actually be a better place to start, although the book is out of print. I was fortunately able to obtain a deteriorating copy from my library but it is also on archive.org. It's 700 pages, but it goes all too quickly.
Despite its poor reputation, it was in many ways "classic" JCP: it was all there, the incredible nature descriptions, sometimes reading like a botanist's catalogue but vividly capturing the moods that nature can provide, the incredible Dostoyevskian insight, particularly into what is best called "human perversity" (not sexual but more behavior driven, like the way lovers act absurdly or how some people deliberately torment another psychologically to show power over that person), and the frequent obscure literary references. There were some truly incredible scenes, perhaps my favorite when Gladys and Lacrima go to Auber Lake (name taken from Poe's "Ulalume"), and startle the geese, which was both a stunning nature scene and a fascinating look into one of the characters.
I will concede that it was a little "raw" - and in need of the editing which was provided by Phyllis Plater in JCP's later books, but honestly I thought it in some ways made the book better. But still, Powys was writing at age 42, he's a developed (perhaps not mature) writer.
So, ultimately, Wood and Stone is brilliant, fascinating, personally meaningful, and filled me throughout with that unique feeling that I get from JCP' work, which is really a sublime feeling of pure joy of existence at the beauty of the world and the wonder of humanity. The book made me just incredibly happy that I live in it, perhaps because at the very bottom it is absurd and "perverse", not just people but the way random fate affects the paths of our lives. Regardless, this book is a tremendous affirmation of life.
Anyway I loved this book, especially with all its faults. It's not a masterpiece or a "classic" but an very enjoyable read. I usually recommend Wolf Solent to people as their first JCP book as it is readily available, but I think most people find it just a little too odd. This might actually be a better place to start, although the book is out of print. I was fortunately able to obtain a deteriorating copy from my library but it is also on archive.org. It's 700 pages, but it goes all too quickly.
May 21, 2020
this feels a bit like a trial run for a glastonbury romance even though it's about 15 years before that one was written. it's smaller in scope though, and feels closer to his 19th century influences than the later books do. his style is pretty much all in place even at this stage but it feels a bit more controlled and less excessive than the later books. worth a read if you're a jcp fan.
March 14, 2020
A book I would like to like and appreciate more, but I just can't.
For some reason, I never grasped the characters. I got confused with their names and characteristics, and it was just scene after scene of some people talking strangely with each other. Being a long book with rather little plot (there is some romance and an election, but it is not a plot-driven novel) did not help things. Another huge part of the book, describing surroundings and environment and flora, was something that I also failed to connect with. Not sure if it is due to being a non-native English speaker or simply growing up in modern times with less contact with untouched nature, but I just could not see in my mind's eye what the author was describing. There were beautiful passages of flowers blooming and hills rolling that just fell flat.
On the other hand, the paperback version was probably the highest quality I have ever seen, with extremely sharp print and hefty, thick pages.
For some reason, I never grasped the characters. I got confused with their names and characteristics, and it was just scene after scene of some people talking strangely with each other. Being a long book with rather little plot (there is some romance and an election, but it is not a plot-driven novel) did not help things. Another huge part of the book, describing surroundings and environment and flora, was something that I also failed to connect with. Not sure if it is due to being a non-native English speaker or simply growing up in modern times with less contact with untouched nature, but I just could not see in my mind's eye what the author was describing. There were beautiful passages of flowers blooming and hills rolling that just fell flat.
On the other hand, the paperback version was probably the highest quality I have ever seen, with extremely sharp print and hefty, thick pages.
December 21, 2017
Remarkable first novel - full of memorable characters such that even reading this book over 3 months, due to time restrictions, I never lost track of them or the plot. JCP constantly explains the deeper psychological causes for characters actions and makes them so real and understandable compared say to Dickens who concentrates more on his character's entertainment value.
In particular, JCP was years ahead of his time with his understanding of mental health issues and how they affect so many people to varying degrees.
As with Weymouth Sands, the Weymouth environment is truly inspirational for JCP.
In particular, JCP was years ahead of his time with his understanding of mental health issues and how they affect so many people to varying degrees.
As with Weymouth Sands, the Weymouth environment is truly inspirational for JCP.
June 19, 2023
Powys' first novel, and obviously inferior to his works to come. The plot is without great interest and abounds in characters who serve no function. His weakness is made obvious by his recourse to such constructions as 'the scene would have struck the mind of a Tragedian as pregnant with just that cosmic significance as....' etc etc - because it certainly isn't striking our mind as such.
November 16, 2013
An excellent book. His descriptions of nature are amazing. Stumbled across this author somehow and am thrilled to have done so. Would pick it up and read again right now but for the fact I started Wolf Solent.
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