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Solitary War


Solitary War

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    Available in PDF Format | Solitary War.pdf | English
    Henry Williamson(Author)
Volume thirteen of A Chronicle of Ancient Sunlight. In September 1939, war with Germany casts its long shadow over the town and countryside. Phillip Maddison, now farming in East Anglia, still stubbornly believes that Hitler's chief aim is the defence of Europe against Stalin; but he is engaged in a personal war on the 'bad lands' where his farm is situated, trying to subdue mounting debts and to create a fertile yeoman holding for his family. The portrayal of his struggles, both with himself and with the land, carry total conviction, as does the picture of his life in England until the ending of the Battle of Britain. 'This astonishing sequence. It is a major mark he is making on the modern novel.' Daily Express

Henry Williamson was born in December 1895 and died in August 1977. The last great visionary of his generation, he was both loved and misunderstood and his writing by turns famous and neglected. His huge literary output fell into several groups. Apart from his well-loved animal narratives he wrote direct accounts of his own life in rural Norfolk and Devon, numerous short stories and two semi-autobiographical groups of novels - The Flax Dream and A Chronicle of Ancient Sunlight, of which the last volume, The Gale of the World appeared in 1969. His last book, The Scandaroon, the tale of a pigeon, was published in 1972. --This text refers to the Paperback edition.

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Book details

  • PDF | 384 pages
  • Henry Williamson(Author)
  • TBS The Book Service Ltd; First Edition edition (Sept. 1966)
  • English
  • 6
  • Fiction
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Review Text

  • By brianbotanic on 26 April 2017

    anything written by this demented genius is worth serious attention.this book should be read in conjunction with his "story of a norfolk farm,and both considered together as a metaphor for the state of english society .....i will not say"at the time"....of course,it was his aim above all to write the truth,and i suppose that this would mean for him ,as much truth as he could bear.after 1918,he was held by the conviction that at all costs another such war should be avoided.he was,as many know,detained,briefly,under regulation 18b.though this detention was so plainly unjust,that police ensured that the cell which he occupied was open and unlocked.for the rest of the war,he was torn between two loyalties;to his country,and to an idea to which he had given support.the monumental struggle to rescue the farm which he had bought,i think,he hoped would demonstrate to anyone where the predominant substance of his loyalty lay.there was his war service,too.he was one of the few 1914 soldiers to survive the war: it had cost him his sanity;and then there was his devotion to the english language and to the english people(there was a war on...that's how people thought......not allowed now,i know.)i feel sure that he felt that the visible evidence was enough....but no....and as a consequence,he would not recant......once he had given his word he would not recant.he was never forgiven,though thousands of ex- nazi murderers were,forgiven and employed,even praised werner von braun.whose rocket programmes cost the lives of hundreds of thousands of slave workers,and thousands of english and dutch an american hero.....that is the injustice....but it the meticulous treatment of detail ,and the faultless prose so evident here that we go to williamson for,and for passages of lyrical prose which would stand with the best of english poetry.(see in particular,"how dear is life" and "dandelion days"two of this volume's precursor works.)one of the most eloquent recommendations of his writing is the extent to which it has been ransacked by later writers,without first hand knowledge of their subject (generally"the trenches"...."the flanders mud"..the sub- owen wailing about useless slaughter....which cliched stuff seems to be enough.)who should be ashamed of themselves.i suppose their confidence derives from the fact that he wrote so generously;surely no one who mattered would trouble themselves to actually read his stuff.i think they were right,in this at least.and here i think we see the real nature of his offence.he wrote too much and too delicately.......and if he was a fascist,there can be no good reason to contaminate one's cool dude metrosexual (another latte julian?thank you,simone.)being with his perish all fat books,and their writers. will this do?

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