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A review by kaylo88
How Black Was My Valley: Poverty and Abandonment in a Post-Industrial Heartland by Brad Evans
challenging
dark
emotional
medium-paced
2.5
2.5 stars rounded up.
I've tried to give a fair review of this book, and it has been challenging. This is because of two main factors. Firstly, there are aspects of the book that I found truly captivating, while others left me bewildered, seeming to deviate significantly from the book's apparent theme.
At times, the narrative adopts the tone of a factual historical account, only to transition into what feels like a personal memoir, and then into passages reminiscent of fiction. Despite the quality of the writing, these shifts can be somewhat disorienting for the reader, leaving them uncertain of the book's overall stance.
Secondly, my familiarity with the subject matter from personal, academic, and professional perspectives adds another layer of difficulty when trying to stay neutral.
So to start with the positive aspects of the book, certain chapters are executed with great skill. The depiction of the Aberfan tragedy is particularly poignant. I have read several accounts of this event, and I would rank this portrayal second only to a profoundly moving book written by one of the survivors. This chapter really showcases the author's deep emotional connection to the subject.
The book also explores the intersection of poverty and health, shedding light on the prevalence of fast-food take aways in valley towns and their detrimental effects on residents' health. The discussion on drug addiction is especially insightful, addressing the tendency to pass judgment without considering the underlying factors driving individuals towards substance abuse. The author navigates these issues with sensitivity and impartiality.
However, there are several areas where I found the book lacking. The author occasionally takes liberties with some descriptions, such as portraying Pontypridd solely in a state of decline without acknowledging its recent redevelopment. While acknowledging the town's challenges is important, it's equally vital to recognise its ongoing efforts towards regeneration, exemplified by initiatives like the Llys Cadwyn development.
Additionally, the author's reference to the Brecon Beacons as the "Breconshire Beacons" struck me as odd. Historically, the term "Breconshire" predates the establishment of Powys, but colloquially, the mountains have always been known as the Brecon Beacons, or by their Welsh name, Bannau Brycheiniog.
I was also sad by the author's apparent reluctance to fully embrace their background. While I empathise with the reasons outlined in the book, as someone who shares similar roots, a similar family background and from a very similar area. I've never felt compelled to conceal my identity even while at university and I was never expected or told to do so in order to achieve. Each individual's journey is unique, but it seems unfair that the author states that everyone in the valleys has to hide their background due to societal perceptions of poverty.
Throughout the book, there's a recurring theme of portraying poor working class white men from the valleys as victims, particularly in comparison to broader societal movements like Black Lives Matter. While acknowledging the valid struggles faced by working-class white men, and to talk about young male suicide rates which occur right across the UK, not only in the valleys, it's essential to recognise that other demographic groups, such as women, endure similar challenges, often with fewer resources and opportunities. They took have had the same upbringing and lack of education. They are more likely to have teenage pregnancies and if they do find work, it is dispportionaltly paid in comparison to men. This emphasis on victimhood detracts from more pressing issues affecting the working class, and more importantly of poverty irrespective of ethnicity.
The author's tangent on "Little Britain" and overall comedy and comedic portrayal of tragedy feels disconnected from the book's central themes. While humour can serve as a coping mechanism in the face of adversity, the relevance of this digression remains unclear.
Finally, certain "facts" such as the portrayal of Pakistani doctors as the wealthiest figures in Welsh valleys communities during the Thatcher era, while describing white people again as the poor victims in their own story, "those who looked the whitest were often the poorest of the poor, malnourished and robbed of all forms of sunlight" he says. But they lack substantiation and appear speculative. Without corroborating evidence or references, such claims undermine the book's credibility.
In conclusion, while the book offers valuable insights, its inconsistent tone and unresolved conflicts regarding the author's relationship with Wales hinder its effectiveness as an educational resource on the coal industry's decline in the South Wales valleys. Perhaps framing it as a personal memoir would better align with its introspective narrative.
I want to thank the author, the publishers and Netgalley for the ARC of this book and wish to confirm that this is my honest review.
I've tried to give a fair review of this book, and it has been challenging. This is because of two main factors. Firstly, there are aspects of the book that I found truly captivating, while others left me bewildered, seeming to deviate significantly from the book's apparent theme.
At times, the narrative adopts the tone of a factual historical account, only to transition into what feels like a personal memoir, and then into passages reminiscent of fiction. Despite the quality of the writing, these shifts can be somewhat disorienting for the reader, leaving them uncertain of the book's overall stance.
Secondly, my familiarity with the subject matter from personal, academic, and professional perspectives adds another layer of difficulty when trying to stay neutral.
So to start with the positive aspects of the book, certain chapters are executed with great skill. The depiction of the Aberfan tragedy is particularly poignant. I have read several accounts of this event, and I would rank this portrayal second only to a profoundly moving book written by one of the survivors. This chapter really showcases the author's deep emotional connection to the subject.
The book also explores the intersection of poverty and health, shedding light on the prevalence of fast-food take aways in valley towns and their detrimental effects on residents' health. The discussion on drug addiction is especially insightful, addressing the tendency to pass judgment without considering the underlying factors driving individuals towards substance abuse. The author navigates these issues with sensitivity and impartiality.
However, there are several areas where I found the book lacking. The author occasionally takes liberties with some descriptions, such as portraying Pontypridd solely in a state of decline without acknowledging its recent redevelopment. While acknowledging the town's challenges is important, it's equally vital to recognise its ongoing efforts towards regeneration, exemplified by initiatives like the Llys Cadwyn development.
Additionally, the author's reference to the Brecon Beacons as the "Breconshire Beacons" struck me as odd. Historically, the term "Breconshire" predates the establishment of Powys, but colloquially, the mountains have always been known as the Brecon Beacons, or by their Welsh name, Bannau Brycheiniog.
I was also sad by the author's apparent reluctance to fully embrace their background. While I empathise with the reasons outlined in the book, as someone who shares similar roots, a similar family background and from a very similar area. I've never felt compelled to conceal my identity even while at university and I was never expected or told to do so in order to achieve. Each individual's journey is unique, but it seems unfair that the author states that everyone in the valleys has to hide their background due to societal perceptions of poverty.
Throughout the book, there's a recurring theme of portraying poor working class white men from the valleys as victims, particularly in comparison to broader societal movements like Black Lives Matter. While acknowledging the valid struggles faced by working-class white men, and to talk about young male suicide rates which occur right across the UK, not only in the valleys, it's essential to recognise that other demographic groups, such as women, endure similar challenges, often with fewer resources and opportunities. They took have had the same upbringing and lack of education. They are more likely to have teenage pregnancies and if they do find work, it is dispportionaltly paid in comparison to men. This emphasis on victimhood detracts from more pressing issues affecting the working class, and more importantly of poverty irrespective of ethnicity.
The author's tangent on "Little Britain" and overall comedy and comedic portrayal of tragedy feels disconnected from the book's central themes. While humour can serve as a coping mechanism in the face of adversity, the relevance of this digression remains unclear.
Finally, certain "facts" such as the portrayal of Pakistani doctors as the wealthiest figures in Welsh valleys communities during the Thatcher era, while describing white people again as the poor victims in their own story, "those who looked the whitest were often the poorest of the poor, malnourished and robbed of all forms of sunlight" he says. But they lack substantiation and appear speculative. Without corroborating evidence or references, such claims undermine the book's credibility.
In conclusion, while the book offers valuable insights, its inconsistent tone and unresolved conflicts regarding the author's relationship with Wales hinder its effectiveness as an educational resource on the coal industry's decline in the South Wales valleys. Perhaps framing it as a personal memoir would better align with its introspective narrative.
I want to thank the author, the publishers and Netgalley for the ARC of this book and wish to confirm that this is my honest review.