Voices of the Old Sea

by Norman Lewis

After World War II, Norman Lewis returned to Spain and settled in the remote fishing village of Farol, on what is now Costa Brava. Voices of the Old Sea describes his three successive summers in that almost medieval community where life revolved around the seasonal sardine catches, Alcade's bar, and satisfying feuds with neighboring villages. It's lucky Lewis was there when he was. Soon after, Spain was discovered by its neighbors in a more prosperous northern Europe, and the tourist tide that ensued flowed inexorably over the old ways of the town and its inhabitants.

Genres: Travel, Nonfiction, Spain, History, Memoir, Anthropology, Reportage

240 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1984

About the author

Norman Lewis was a British writer renowned for his richly detailed travel writing, though his literary output also included twelve novels and several volumes of autobiography. Born in Enfield, Middlesex in 1908 to a Welsh family, Lewis was raised in a household steeped in spiritualism, a belief system embraced by his grieving parents following the deaths of his elder brothers. Despite these early influences, Lewis grew into a skeptic with a deeply observant eye, fascinated by cultures on the margins of the modern world.
His early adulthood was marked by various professions—including wedding photographer, umbrella wholesaler, and even motorcycle racer—before he served in the British Army during World War II. His wartime experiences in Algiers, Tunisia, and especially Naples provided the basis for one of his most celebrated books, Naples '44, widely praised as one of the finest firsthand accounts of the war. His writing blended keen observation with empathy and dry wit, traits that defined all of his travel works.
Lewis had a deep affinity for threatened cultures and traditional ways of life. His travels took him across Southeast Asia, Latin America, and the Mediterranean. Among his most important books are A Dragon Apparent, an evocative portrait of French Indochina before the Vietnam War; Golden Earth, on postwar Burma; An Empire of the East, set in Indonesia; and A Goddess in the Stones, about the tribal communities of India. In Sicily, he explored the culture and reach of the Mafia in The Honoured Society and In Sicily, offering insight without sensationalism.
In 1969, his article “Genocide in Brazil,” detailing atrocities committed against Indigenous tribes, led directly to the formation of Survival International, an organization committed to protecting tribal peoples worldwide. Lewis often cited this as the most meaningful achievement of his career, expressing lifelong concern for the destructive influence of missionary activity and modernization on indigenous societies.
Though Lewis also wrote fiction, his literary reputation rests primarily on his travel writing, which was widely admired for its moral clarity, understated style, and commitment to giving voice to overlooked communities. He remained an unshakable realist throughout his life, famously stating, “I do not believe in belief,” though he found deep joy in simply being alive.
Lewis died in 2003 in Essex, survived by his third wife Lesley and their son Gawaine, as well as five other children from previous marriages.

Reviews

[Candi · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars

"After three war years in the Army overseas I looked for the familiar in England, but found change. Perhaps it was the search for vanished times that drew me back to Spain, which in some ways I knew better than my own country—a second homeland to be revisited when I could. Here the past, I suspected, would have been embalmed, and outside influence held at bay in a country absorbed in its domestic tragedy."

Travel writing has beckoned to me with its charms during recent years. Honestly, before joining Goodreads, I thought ‘travel’ books were primarily those little Fodor’s travel guides one would pick up before venturing on an upcoming trip. I really had no idea that there was an entire genre of narrative travel writing that could whisk you away to faraway places simply through the power of beautifully written words. Since this discovery, I have been adding ‘travel’ books to my mountainous pile at a rather swift rate. Voices of the Old Sea is one of those books that lured me in with the promise of a journey to the Mediterranean coast of Spain.

The author, Norman Lewis, was apparently one of the more renowned travel writers of his time (mainly post World War II.) A British journalist who traveled and wrote extensively, Lewis wrote this particular volume based on a period of three summers beginning in 1948, which he spent in the small coastal fishing village of what he called Farol. From what I understand, ‘Farol’ is a fictional name he devised in order to protect the identity of the real community. In any case, Farol was a town steeped in a culture that no longer exists today – rich in history and traditions that were quite interesting. Actually, I found that my visit to this coastal village was more of a travel back in time rather than a destination vacation. Lewis at first had difficulty making himself at home with the fishermen. They didn’t necessarily welcome outsiders with open arms. "The men of Farol hoarded words as their children collected the coloured pebbles on the beach." Eventually he found friendship with another outsider of sorts, a young man named Sebastian who happened to have a link with one of the more powerful women of the community – the Grandmother. Soon Lewis found himself offered hospitality at the local drinking establishment, where he came to learn many of the secrets and customs of the community. He went out on fishing expeditions thus learning of the arduous work involved in this type of livelihood.

The most fascinating part of this piece for me was the rather rapid transformation of this town from that of remote fishing village to that of a fashionable tourist attraction. With the arrival of an influential and likely shady businessman, Farol became the hot spot for French, German, Scandinavian and later English travelers seeking the beauty of a beach retreat. The people of Farol found themselves no longer gaining sustenance from the always fluctuating fishing economy, but to earning a living from the influx of foreign currency. Lewis seems to mourn the loss of the town’s identity while at the same time perhaps recognizing that the people will now have a more reliable source of income. Certainly I can understand both sides, and it is thanks to books like this that remind us of those irretrievable times gone by.

I’ve rated this book 3.5 stars, mainly because I appreciated very much what I learned from it. At times, it felt disjointed – probably due to the author’s back and forth travel to Farol. When I’m reading a travel narrative, I’m looking for the lovely, descriptive prose that paints a picture of the landscape. This better illustrated the people and the metamorphosis of an entire way of life – which is fascinating in itself, but is a matter of expectations I suppose. I didn’t so much travel to Spain but to a place in history. Keeping this in mind, anyone with an interest in such topics could easily enjoy this book. I’m going to try Naples ’44 next, which is Lewis’s masterpiece of sorts.

"One thing is certain. Here we have always been, and here, whatever happens, we shall remain, listening to the voices of the old sea."

[Veronica · Rating 3 out of 5]

Judging by the scant number of reviews on Goodreads, Norman Lewis is virtually forgotten. Yet he was one of the best travel writers of the 20th century. Here he recounts three summer seasons spent in a fishing village on the Costa Brava just after World War II. Artfully, he uses this device to show us first the poverty-stricken and almost medieval lifestyle of the fishermen and their families. During the second season a local crook-cum-businessman opens a hotel and begins the gradual transformation of the village into a tasteless tourist trap, amid much resentment and resistance; the fishermen continue obstinately to fish the dwindling stocks even when it is pointed out that they can earn far more taking tourists on a single boat trip than in a whole season of fishing. By the third season the rot has set in; the fishermen's wives are working as chambermaids at the hotel, and even Lewis's friend Sebastian has had to quell his wanderlust and become a waiter. Repressive Spanish laws now only apply to Spaniards; foreign tourists can do as they like.

I never knew the Spanish Mediterranean coast before it was covered from end to end with concrete. The Costa Brava is inaccessible enough to be less spoilt than the rest, but there are no fishing villages like Farol any more, and all the village sea-fronts are lined with hotels. Of course, the Spanish are materially far better off, and have far more freedom, than was the case 60 years ago, when near-starvation and repression were the norm, but still, much has been lost.

[Steve Haywood · Rating 5 out of 5]

In the late 1940s, English writer Norman Lewis travelled to the remote Spanish fishing village of Farol to experience and record the old ways of Spanish fisherman, and witness the passing of an old order that had lasted largely unchanged for centuries. He spent a few months there each year for three years, and witnessed huge changes as the Spanish fishing culture gave way slowly to the onslaught of mass tourism.

The author described two villages rather than one, the village of the cat people by the sea (they keep cats to keep off the rats and finish off the bits of fish left over from their fishing), and the village of the dog people a few miles inland where the people hunt in the forest and grow crops. The two villages need each other and trade together even though they don't like each other very much, but both villages will be equally affected by the changes that are coming.

I like travel books, I like learning about different places and also about different times too. This does both. Some travel books can be quite dry though, full of beautiful description but somehow stagnant without narrative or movement. This is not one of those. The characters really come to life, and even though the story is told over only three years, such a lot happens and it is really interesting waiting to find out what will happen in the next year. This is just one little story, in one small place, but you can really see how there would have been hundreds of other stories just like it up and down the Spanish coast.

I read this book while on holiday in Spain not far from where the book is set (Farol is a fictional name and no one knows exactly where the village was but it was in the Costa Brava region). This really added something to the book for me - I could see and feel the final result of the changes described in this book all around me. I don't see it is either good or bad, but do feel a sadness for what was lost.

This was a really good book, and Norman Lewis is obviously an excellent writer, because as you read it, it makes you feel like you are there, experiencing that time and that place, getting a glimpse of a world that has gone and is never coming back. It is all the more remarkable because though it seems like eons away it really wasn't that long ago, within the lifetime of many people alive today. A really good book, well worth reading.

[Anna · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘Voices of the Old Sea’ is a humane and affectionate portrait of life in the obscure Catalonian fishing village of Farol shortly after the Second World War. The tone and content reminded me rather of My Family and Other Animals by Gerald Durrell, as it reads with sympathetic amusement and both a simultaneous sense of solidarity and detachment. Lewis is gradually accepted by the villagers over a period of years and goes fishing with them, whilst acknowledging that he will always be an outsider. He documents the environmental disasters that damage the livelihoods of Farol and its inland neighbour Sort. (The villagers are often referred to, rather brilliantly, as the Cat People and the Dog People.) As the forests die and the fish prove elusive, a wealthy black marketeer moves in and tried to turn the area into a tourist resort. The villagers’ affronted and confused responses are both funny and full of pathos. The isolation of Farol cannot survive modern times, so Lewis’ portrait is a bittersweet one. It is lovely to read, though, and like the best travel writing immerses you in a different world.

[Ted · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well written and engaging. In this book, Lewis recounts his post WWII experiences on the Costa Brava of Spain. Over a three year period, Lewis observes the livelihoods and social customs of the fishermen of the village of Farol and the farmers and woodsmen of the nearby village of Sort - along with the social and economic interplay between them. Through a series of anecdotes, Lewis presents examples of the traditional lifestyles and social customs; as well as the changing local conditions. During his second year in Farol a new element enters the story. An unorthodox, upstart Spanish businessman (with political and police connections) constructs a hotel and begins to bring in tourists from France and Germany. The ever increasing flow of visitors from Northern Europe has an immediate effect on the two villages and life there is changed forever.

There is a touch of nostalgia for the "old ways" in the latter part of the book which is balanced by the recognition that the tourist boom has a positive side; family incomes are on the rise and there is optimism with regard to the future. Overall, this is an interesting examination of the transition that took place in the early 1950s from a traditional way of life to a more modern one - accelerated in this case by tourism.

[Sam Schulman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Best travel writer of the 20th century.

[Ian Mond]

Like The Moon’s a Balloon, I’ve not heard the Backlisted episode that discusses Lewis’s travelogue.* And, like Niven’s memoir, I bet their discussion will cover the text's authenticity. No one will doubt that Lewis spent three years in a remote Spanish fishing village, but they might question how many people he meets are real or composites. Of course, it could all be accurate, but Voice of the Old Sea reads like fiction. Unless Lewis took copious notes—and maybe he did—it’s hard to believe that the lengthy conversations he relays happened as they’re written.

Does this question of fidelity matter? If we treat Voice of the Old Sea as a primary historical source, I suppose yes. But, if we treat it as a mostly accurate account of change, the old ways losing out to gentrification and tourism, then I don’t think it matters. The Catalonian village of Farol, the out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere town where Lewis stayed, so remote the authorities questioned why he would spend time there, has been replaced by seaside resorts and gorgeous views. What Lewis has done, accidentally or otherwise, is chronicle the moment that change occurred.

This all sounds very dry, and based on the cover, I expected a detailed but monotone account of life in Foral. Nup. From the opening page, where Lewis introduces us to the fisherman chatting in the local pub in blank verse, we are sucked into the narrative. Every single person Lewis encounters is larger than life, beginning with his landlady, “Grandmother”, omniscient and influential, whose word on any topic is final; Sa Cordovesa, “possessor of a delicate beauty and charm… [who] conducted multiple affairs with discretion, even dignity behind the cover of making up cheap dresses”; and the “dictatorial” and “taciturn” Carmela, who cooks for Lewis but refuses to let him see how she prepares the food.

There’s also a great deal of fishing. It is not a pastime that I am very interested in. But in Lewis’s hands, it’s gripping, mainly because the village economy relies on the catches during the peak season. Lewis plays an active role during these periods, he’s never a bystander. There are other delights, such as the fisherman’s superstitious suspicion of the Catholic Church, meaning the local priest spends most of his time on a nearby archaeological dig, or that the town is overrun by cats that no one has the heart to kill; or the spats between Farol and the nearby village of Sort (who are dog people). It’s all lively, kind-hearted, and funny. But it’s also tinged with sadness as the arrival of black marketeer, the very pragmatic Jaime Muga, to Foral is the beginning of the end of the old ways.

This is another book I would never have read if not for Backlisted, and it is another book I’m glad I did.

*Spending so much time on Substack has much to do with me being so far behind in podcast listening. Or, at least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

[Reading · Rating 5 out of 5]

Completely delightful

[Kubcio Kubcio · Rating 4 out of 5]

O zmianie, która sprawiła, że zniknęły bezdomne koty i tylko widok w stronę morza pozostał taki sam.

[Paul Read · Rating 5 out of 5]

Normal Lewis' Voices of the Old Sea is a beautifully told account of the transformations that undergo a small fishing village on the Catalan coast in the late 1940s. What makes the book worth reading is Lewis' skill in capturing the ordinary, the mundane and the changeless existence of the people until tourism arrives one day, and decides to stay. Their initial rejection and ultimate embrace of this new era unfolds with insight and compassion.

For those interested in contemporary Spain, the story is echoed across the whole peninsula as the gradual spread of tourism, like gout or any other infection, spreads down the coast, across to the Balearic and canary islands and finally, from the 1980s onward systematically inland.

Yet despite what on the surface looks to be like a malignant disease, Spain somehow still retains an identity and character undeniably Iberian. Where other cultures would have fallen, subsumed in the tidal wave of the new consumerist religion, Spain continues to maintain much of its tradition and culture despite the forces of invasion. Perhaps because - even after 40 years of democracy - Spain is still a relatively poor country within the EU, and, as Lewis points out at the end of the book: "Corruption doesn't come naturally to the poor as it does to the rich".

So true, so true.

For More on Spain: http://www.SpeakingofSpain.com

[Flora · Rating 5 out of 5]

Could be one of the best travel writers I have read.

[Richard Lynn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Recommended by Linda, this is a fantastic book. It fits in the same vein as another favorite book, Let It Come Down.

[zunggg · Rating 4 out of 5]

Certainly my favourite of the three Norman Lewis books I've read so far, this covers three consecutive summers in the years post-WWII spent in a pseudonymous fishing village on the Costa Brava, and the effacement within that period of the traditional way of life by easy tourist money. Lewis gradually gets himself accepted by the villagers, joins them on fishing expeditions with line, net, and spear, and writes with his usual effortless grace, precision, and humour of the place and its people.

The cultural oddities of Farol, and its impoverished inland neighbour village of Sort, seem inexhaustible. Farol in general, and its fishermen in particular, are vehemently irreligious, refusing to enter the church or to admit the priest to their houses, their bar, or their boats. Leather shoes are absolutely taboo. In the evenings in the bar, the fishermen recount their days at sea (in Castilian, not their habitual Catalan) in extemporised epic coplas which, as reported by Lewis, are of a very high standard. The itinerant wise man/healer/curandero is relied upon not just for medical aid but for dispute resolution and life advice in general, which he accomplishes with astrology, tarot-readings and a folk-pharmacopeia. The local decayed gentleman retains a quasi-feudal relationship with a few peon families who work his land in return for bread and beans. The poverty is as extreme as the quirkiness, exacerbated by subpar sardine harvests and the decimation of the cork plantations, sole resource of Sort, by disease. Marriages are on hold, sex is only allowed at siesta time, and the curandero's marinated sea-sponge contraceptives are in high demand in an effort to limit the number of mouths to feed.

The book turns at the halfway point, when a local black-marketeer on the make moves in and starts splashing the cash to fit Farol out for the nascent package tourism industry.

The sheer eccentricity of Farol and its characters made for a somewhat bumpy ride despite my well-tuned suspension of disbelief. This, combined with the fact that Lewis wrote the book from notes, three decades after the events in it, and the liberties that he's known to have taken (like actually being there with his wife and kid, not as a lone outsider as per the book) meant that I found it hard to shake the suspicion that he'd (a) made up a bunch of stuff and (b) telescoped the timeline of Farol's touristification. It's hard to credit that the near-total eradication of the old ways could have happened in just three years, but he was there and I wasn't, and anyway the moral of the story — that money is a quick-acting drug and the old ways don't die all that hard in the face of it — holds true. Probably best to think of this as fiction-non-fiction and not get hung up on authenticity. It's packed with character and plot, regardless, and ends on an exquisitely-pitched elegiac note that will soften the flintiest of hearts.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lewis' account of his stay over three seasons in a small Spanish/Catalan fishing village in the immediate aftermath of WWII. A lot of local color, and a somewhat bleak view of the rise of tourism in the region (The Costa Brava). Those readers who demand fidelity may be disappointed; outside reading has indicated that the author leaves out some important points (such as that his family lived there with him) and the name of the village is a pseudonym.

[Katarzyna · Rating 4 out of 5]

Reportaż/opowieść, w której główny bohater jest najpierw świadkiem lokalnych zwyczajów, przesądów i społecznego porządku w morskim miasteczku Farol, a później jego zmian w turystyczny kurort. Miejscami bardzo zabawne. W odczuciu prawdziwe i intrygujące.

[Tim Ruffles · Rating 5 out of 5]

Firstly, a cliff-jump into a time and existence that has gone forever. You come up and smell the Mediterranean around you: lobster diving for enough pesos to see you through winter, the bad luck of a cleric walking by being warded off by hands grabbing bollocks in the tavern.

Secondly, questioned the worthy narratives I’d imbued from Lonely Planet and about ‘authenticity’. People stopped fishing because tourism made more money. We, as tourists, would prefer them to stay fishermen as a picturesque backdrop. They, as people, wanted jobs that didn’t involve 4am starts for little money. So, it’s probably neither a surprise nor a tragedy that the lovely Fira in Santorini, for example, is now just AirBnBs. There’s certainly lots to love about village life, yet those who knew most about it all gave it up… Perhaps there’s some ‘moloch’ aspect in that - the old fisherman & the banker working 100hr week to get enough cash to retire and fish proverb - but generally people know what they want better than spectators (certainly it feels that way to each of us from within).

[Klaudia Grgs · Rating 4 out of 5]

⭐️3.5

[Shelley · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.75

[Zosiaa · Rating 4 out of 5]

,,Dopiero, gdy umierają złudzenia rodzi się prawdziwa nadzieja."

[Stephanie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Classic travel novel - superb!

[Sandra · Rating 5 out of 5]

Farol, north of Palamos on the Costa Brava, in the late 1940s, was a village of poor fishermen, wild mangy cats and entrenched traditions. Into this isolated community arrives Norman Lewis. Voices of the Old Sea is his account of three fishing seasons spent in the village, from the first sardines in March, the tunny in summer, to the last sardine shoals in October. He witnesses the arrival of tourism and the disappearance of old traditions as the villagers first resist then submit to such overwhelming modernities as a clean beach, new sea wall, hotel rooms with porcelain toilets, and incomprehensible French and German holidaymakers.
The final sign of acceptance of change is when the fishermen's wives, formerly responsible for raising the village chickens, get dressed up in their finery for interviews as chambermaids at the new hotel. So employed, they earn more pesetas a day than their husbands.
This is a gentle tale, lovingly told. Moments of sadness and tragedy are mixed delicately with comic stories of the eccentric villagers, who come to accept Lewis with less suspicion. It is a glimpse of a lost time but which still retains traces of modern Spain today. Excellent.
For more about our life in Andalucía, see www.notesonaspanishvalley.com
Read more about my thoughts on books and writing at www.sandradanby.com

[Tara · Rating 5 out of 5]

Norman Lewis is an incredible storyteller. I found myself having to check that that this was not infact fiction. I love how he describes a people so resistant to change, how he himself was treated with suspicion as an outsider. However, he managed to get close enough to know these people, to live as one of them for a time and to record their experiences and stories. It seems as though nothing could happen in this sleepy fishing village but Lewis manages to find the extraordinary in the ordinary and it is a beautifully descriptive enjoyable tale.

[Dcsinden · Rating 5 out of 5]

Norman Lewis writes with a consumate ease and transports you back to a spain that is on the cusp of turning from a land of near feudalism to one of and opportunity though (still under Francos rule) they seem to have been simplier times though poverty & hardship were common place. If you havent read much "travel literature" before you could much worse than start here .

[Beata · Rating 4 out of 5]

Piękna opowieść, w którą się zapada jak w wysłużony i wygodny fotel. Rzadko się zdarza, żeby opowiadać o świecie, jego zmianach, zaletach i wadach z tak życzliwym podejściem. Bez chęci uwypuklania własnych ocen, bez pouczania i wartościowania. "Głosy starego morza" to wędrówka pod przewodnictwem wypróbowanego przyjaciela.

[Dunrie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book chronicles three summers Lewis spent in an isolated fishing village on the Spanish Coast - where age-old suspicions and traditions morph in response to environmental, social, and economic change.

[Bob · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful account of a way of life long gone. Very touching, very humourous.
The part of Spain featured in this fine account, is now the Costa Brava. This chronicles the change through the eyes of a fine observer and master of the written word.

[Maria Gambale · Rating 5 out of 5]

I loved this book. Plain prose, incisive observations. Excellent timing, being present for the transformation - over the course of only three summers - of an inaccessible seaside town in Spain into a resort destination. Will definitely be reading more Norman Lewis.

[Piotr · Rating 4 out of 5]

W trzecim sezonie NL chyba już nie miał serca do Farol, wszystko wyraźnie zwalnia, słabnie. Ale nie sposób się dziwić. I tak jest to znakomita opowieść i wspaniała historia, taki "reportaż magiczny".
A! I wielkie brawa dla tłumacza! Kapitalna robota!

[Manda · Rating 5 out of 5]

A three-summer elegy for a small fishing village that even in the short space of those three summers becomes unrecognizable from the first to the third.

[Judith Johnson · Rating 4 out of 5]

I spent quite a few childhood summers in a fishing village near Tarragona, and was reminded of many things by this book. Another superb piece of writing by a real master.