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How Black Was My Valley: Poverty and Abandonment in Post-Industrial Wales
Providing a searing insight and honest portrayal of post-industrial communities ravaged by decades of abandonment, How Black Was My Valley is the story of lives defined by poverty, catastrophe and the fading dreams of better futures.
How Black Was My Valley is a people's history of the former mining communities of South Wales.
Weaving together the personal with the political, it offers a damning depiction of the hardship and suffering, the tragedy and pain, as a politically abandoned people went from powering the British Empire and the Great Wars, to a broken post-industrial community, lost in time.
It travels with devastating and yet humane insight across the dark shadows of the valley’s history. In doing so, it deals with disaster and resistance; memory and landscapes of despair; the brutal past and the neglected present; hardship and poverty; unemployment and isolation; lack of opportunity and the normalisation of hopelessness; death and suffering; structural violence and everyday subjugation; onto the crises of white male subjectivity and the exponential rise in drug abuse and personal suicide, whose troubling effects can no longer be easily contained within its mountainous walls.
This is not a story of resilience. Instead, readers are taken on a journey into an open wound, whose once silent screams can no longer be ignored.
How Black Was My Valley is a people's history of the former mining communities of South Wales.
Weaving together the personal with the political, it offers a damning depiction of the hardship and suffering, the tragedy and pain, as a politically abandoned people went from powering the British Empire and the Great Wars, to a broken post-industrial community, lost in time.
It travels with devastating and yet humane insight across the dark shadows of the valley’s history. In doing so, it deals with disaster and resistance; memory and landscapes of despair; the brutal past and the neglected present; hardship and poverty; unemployment and isolation; lack of opportunity and the normalisation of hopelessness; death and suffering; structural violence and everyday subjugation; onto the crises of white male subjectivity and the exponential rise in drug abuse and personal suicide, whose troubling effects can no longer be easily contained within its mountainous walls.
This is not a story of resilience. Instead, readers are taken on a journey into an open wound, whose once silent screams can no longer be ignored.
400 pages, Paperback
Published April 9, 2024
2 people are currently reading
29 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
March 20, 2024
Often lyrical, frequently thought-provoking, this is an interesting take on the history of the post-industrial South Wales Valleys. For me, it dwelt too much on the author’s resentments and sense of perpetual victimhood. His vision of Wales as a colony and its people as broken is provocative and bold. Expecting a work of historical analysis rather than polemic, I was often frustrated by the inclusion of pronouncements which seemed skewed or without foundation, such as when Evans states that only those who were “disposable to ruling classes” were recruited to fight in WWI. He also states that “domestic terrorism appeared” in the year of his birth, apparently unaware of previous IRA bombing campaigns such as that in 1939. For me it too often felt like an opinion piece, as when Churchill (who undeniably had his faults) is condemned out of hand as a “tyrant”.
There are some fascinating titbits from history, such as a quotation from a 17th century pamphlet, but as no reference is provided the reader is left without the means to explore further, which I found a little frustrating.
Evans indulges in occasional flights of fancy such as fables of dragons and children which are beautiful concepts but confusing in the prose, where additional breaks in lengthy paragraphs would provide the reader with a welcome moment of relief from the harsh, bleak world he presents.
For me, the best part of the book was the chapter dealing with Aberfan. Here, the author’s passionate grief for the Valleys community and the obvious care over his discussion of the disaster gave it a powerful and emotive resonance.
My thanks to the author, publisher and NetGalley for the opportunity to read an ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions expressed in this review are my own.
There are some fascinating titbits from history, such as a quotation from a 17th century pamphlet, but as no reference is provided the reader is left without the means to explore further, which I found a little frustrating.
Evans indulges in occasional flights of fancy such as fables of dragons and children which are beautiful concepts but confusing in the prose, where additional breaks in lengthy paragraphs would provide the reader with a welcome moment of relief from the harsh, bleak world he presents.
For me, the best part of the book was the chapter dealing with Aberfan. Here, the author’s passionate grief for the Valleys community and the obvious care over his discussion of the disaster gave it a powerful and emotive resonance.
My thanks to the author, publisher and NetGalley for the opportunity to read an ARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions expressed in this review are my own.
July 31, 2025
An interesting read all in all, especially when exploring Evans’ subjective childhood memories of the valleys. It gives a comprehensive modern history of this part of Wales, ranging from Aberfan to Aneurin Bevan, and it never felt dull or uninteresting.
On a side note, it was somewhat surreal to be reading a book that mentions my exact primary school or my local pub, but very fun at the same time!!
On a side note, it was somewhat surreal to be reading a book that mentions my exact primary school or my local pub, but very fun at the same time!!
November 8, 2024
"How Black Was My Valley" presents a bleak portrayal of post-industrial communities in South Wales, revealing the harsh realities of poverty, political neglect, and shattered dreams. Through personal stories and political analysis, the book paints a grim picture of communities struggling to survive in the face of overwhelming challenges. It highlights the despair and hopelessness that have become normalized in these communities, offering a sobering look at life in post-industrial Wales. This is a poignant and unsettling read that lays bare the harsh truths of a neglected and marginalized society.
March 24, 2024
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.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 2, 2025
A fascinating, deeply moving, in-depth look at the experience of growing up in the Valleys which hugely captures that feeling of hopelessness you get growing up in a "nowhere" town. Its outlook is often very bleak - as is only right given what the people of the Valleys have been through - but there is a seam of hope throughout (pun intended). I hugely appreciated the enormous emotional complexity of the book which acknowledges often the difficulty in feeling nostalgia for very hard times while wanting to paint a portrait of people who deserved better treatment. I was surprised at how much of the book is about the present as much as it is about the past and loved, especially, that it has this personal element of self-portraiture and a timeless quality, taking in the author's past as well as the deep history of the landscape itself. The complexity of the experience is really helped, in a visual way, with the inclusion of abstract paintings as illustrations. Loved this touch. Genuinely, I feel like anyone in a position of power over these kinds of rural communities should read this to get a proper insight into the experience of growing up in these abandoned places.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews