If I'd had any doubts about how well Bruce Chatwin's On the Black Hill would measure up to being revisited years after it made a big first impression on me, I can say they'd have been unfounded: the book is as good now as it was then.
The story of twin brothers on a Welsh border hill farm, their lives spanning most of the twentieth century, it tells of a particular, narrow existence, but one which draws together all the strands which make any life complicated rather than simple. From the extended family - grandmother Hannah for whom hard times had "...left her mouth as sharp and twisted as a holly leaf", father Amos whose harsh treatment of his sons was an attack on their mother's middle class origins and better education, and then later generations, grabbing, disrespectful of their heritage - to their neighbours of all social strata, and then to the events of the outside world and their impact on the few square miles of the hill.
The twins have almost never left home, they still sleep in the same bed, even, and their outlook is at once binocular and monocular, their small differences of temperament making tense and taut the ties which bind them mostly so comfortably. You could read it as a study of repression, enclosure, a contracted life, but I'm not sure that that says enough. Lewis and Benjamin are happy with what they know, wary of change, slow to keep up with the outside when they see no point to what 'keeping up' involves; that is just the way they are. It's a pastoral story (the brothers' connection to the land and what it means is a source of strength), though it's by no means an idyll, but nor is it fanciful or sentimental, and there's a lot of humour to temper the sorrows.
I find it a very rich book, every detail lovingly given, not a dull line or a careless one. It's moving and refreshing, and a beautifully crafted account of a specific place and time, and a way of life which has almost vanished.
ETA: Anyone who hasn't already come across Bruce Chatwin, or who wants to know more about him and his work might like to visit this website.
That really does look good, my to read list is getting way too long.
Posted by: Jennifer | 24 November 2009 at 01:17 AM
Jennifer you certainly should read this at some point but although I agree with almost every word Cornflower has written I have never wanted to read any other of Chatwin's books. This particular work was recommended to me by a Chatwin fan as the one to start with.
Posted by: Dark Puss | 24 November 2009 at 08:56 AM
This sounds intriguing - I've not come across Chatwin before.
Posted by: Verity | 24 November 2009 at 09:16 AM
Wonderful book. I absolutely believed in these people. I have also read BC's In Patagonia -- a very different kind of book but also enthralling.
Posted by: Harriet | 24 November 2009 at 09:24 AM
It sounds like a really substantial read. Is Bruce Chatwin quite well known then? Never heard of him before (not that that means anything).
Posted by: Jodie | 24 November 2009 at 10:22 AM
Dear Jodie, yes I think Bruce Chatwin could be described as "well known". Perhaps it depends on your age whether you would agree with that. I was most aware of him and his works in the 1980's. Perhaps that is because the book that "made his reputation" In Patagonia was published in 1977, he had some high profile friends and lovers and he died of HIV in 1989.
Posted by: Dark Puss | 24 November 2009 at 01:33 PM
I think On the Black Hill is a deep and substantive book, but it is so easy to read. The subject matter and themes make it sound like it might be heavy, but I don't think it is at all. I had never heard of Chatwin until a trusted friend put this book in my hands last Christmas.
Posted by: Thomas at My Porch | 24 November 2009 at 09:44 PM
Cornflower, that description sounds a bit like Plainsong, by Kent Haruf, a lovely, quiet book set in the American Midwest. Anyone read both?
Posted by: Becky | 25 November 2009 at 01:06 AM
Yes, I reread this every few years and gain more each time. The atmosphere is still vivid in my mind (not always the case these days)
Posted by: Susie Vereker | 25 November 2009 at 10:18 AM