Recounting the protagonist's troubled life, this tale tells the story of Reuben Daniels, reared in a South Wales industrial valley in the bosom of the Nonconformist culture. Therein lies his downfall and that of his people in this chronicle of utter oppostition to Welsh Nonconformity. Throughout the account, Revivalist passions create a perverse outlet for an all-too-human sexuality that chapel culture has otherwise repressed. Nonconformity ultimately withers the root of natural sexual well-being in the Welsh and then feeds off the twisted fruits.
Really enjoyed reading this book, I did. Although speak in exaggerated Welsh sentence constructions I am now, which like Yoda you are reading. The dialogue can be a little grating at first, but if you have a strong Welsh accent in your mind, as you read, and you imagine that you are reading the rendering of speech from Cymraeg to English, then it is not nearly so bad as Dickens attempts at regional accents, or DH Lawrence. The story is more subtle than the blurb on Amazon suggests. If you are something of a Dawkins/Hitchens duckspeaking sort of atheist, the sort that I seem to encounter more and more on Facebook, then you will love this and see it, much as the reviewer did, as a damning indictment of Capel culture, Evangelism and religion in general; but you will be missing a great deal, because this is a more sad and reflective look at the division between the physical and the spiritual world. In a way, there are no compromises. It isn't that Rueben, the protagonist, has taken the wrong course; there is no right course to take. One cannot be in the valley, and in the hills at the same time, and you cannot live on the hill, and you will die in the valley.
Rhys Davies wrote a nonfiction book about Wales that I absolutely loved. 72 pages into this, allegedly his best novel, I would say he might’ve better stuck to nonfiction.
The Withered Root is, like Queen of the Rushes by Allen Raine, a story of the Welsh Revival -- the renewal of religious feeling in the people of Wales. Like Queen of the Rushes, it seems half-disgusted by the excess of feeling it all stirred up, the wildness of it, and the hypocrisy. The Revival brings out senseless madness in so many of the people in these two books, rather than any true religious feeling.
Rhys Davies was supposed to be better at short stories than novels, but I've enjoyed both. His writing vividly brings to life what he's writing about. The only jarring thing, to me, is the way that he has Welsh people speak -- but at the time he was writing, it was like that. It just seems faintly Yoda-like to someone of my generation who didn't grow up in Wales in any case...
He wrote the novel using his own experiences, so it all rings very true -- the speech, the characters, the situations. I'll read more by Rhys Davies, when I get chance.
Rhys Davies attempts a fictional portrait of the collier-preacher who led the last great Welsh Revival of 1904, attracting large crowds to chapels and outdoor meetings to hear his sermons and be saved.
But his Reuben Daniels is a lifeless creation. He broods, he dreams, he walks in the hills, he keeps himself aloof, make his friends and family miserable, and yet declares “Like to lead the people I would and make them happy”. None of it connects. There’s no sense of Reuben as a human being, no understanding of his zealotry, no grasp of his ability to draw crowds, and no notion of why the crowds were there to be drawn in the first place.
Rhys Davies plods on regardless. Fond the Welsh are of putting the important word in a sentence first. Irritating it is that almost every sentence of dialogue starts this way. Equally cloth-eared the rest of the prose is too.
This is simply a wonderful story, beautifully written.
It is a novel based on the Welsh religious revival of 1904. The real life Evan Roberts is portrayed here as Reuben Daniels who as a young man working in the pit discovers his calling via the Corinthians, a nonconformist sect. His ability to preach and convert makes him a star attraction and soon people are flocking to see him. His fellow preachers soon want to develop his work and take their meetings out of the Valleys and across Wales.
He is portrayed as a man with acalling and a mission but one who never seems completely at ease with himself and he struggles in his dealings with other people.
You get a real sense of place and time and it is easy to get caught up in the fervour.
This book caused mixed emotions for me. On the one hand I think it deserves five stars and on the other hand only one star, so I went for three. The beginning of the book had me chuckling out loud quite a few times, especially over the conversations between Reuben's parents. I loved how the writing reflected the way the Welsh talk and I loved the detail in which you can practically 'see' the old valleys in and around 1904/1905. It is also superbly written with beautiful flowing, almost poetical language. The downside for me was twofold. One was the authors obvious dislike of women made blatantly obvious by his lack of even a single woman having any virtue or a good character. Every woman doing nothing but flaunting her femininity in a derogative way. The other was in his portrayal of fanatical and shallow Christians. I found the second half of the book dark and depressing and was quite frankly glad to turn the last page. For research into the Welsh revival this is worth a read. For the beauty of the writing this is definitely worth a read. For it's portrayal of women or Christians if you're easily offended I would give this a miss.
More than a little sexist and more than a little drawn-out and more than a little brooding, but those sins are forgiven. Davies is never heavy-handed, never dramatic*. Just honest. The Withered Root (IMO) pairs well with Sinclair Lewis' Elmer Gantry.