A lyrical memoir of essays and poems from the Booker shortlisted author of Treacle Walker—a profound reflection on the creative journey and the influences that have shaped one of Britain’s most beloved writers.
Critics praise Alan Garner, calling him “better than anyone else writing in English today” (The Times, London) and The Guardian describes his world as “unbearably beautiful and dangerous.” His new memoir in essays captures the essence of a lifetime devoted to storytelling—the title a nod to his great-grandfather’s trade of handloom weaving, and the snippets of cloth (“powsels and thrums”) that weavers kept for themselves, to be turned into something bigger than its parts.
Through essays, poetry, and stories, Garner takes readers on a captivating journey, tracing his life from a working-class childhood during World War II to the esteemed halls of Oxford University, returning to the beloved landscapes of Cheshire that fuel his creativity. Along the way, he encounters serendipitous moments such as an unexpected meeting with a renowned mathematician during a long-distance run—each event adding a unique thread to the rich tapestry of his life. Of particular significance is Blackden, a medieval hall nestled beside the giant telescope at Jodrell Bank, which became his home and the backdrop for his Booker-nominated novel, Treacle Walker. Garner explores the influences that have shaped his work, from his grandfather’s craftsmanship to the folklore from the place where his family has lived for generations, reflecting on an extraordinary lifetime of writing.
Charming and revelatory, Powsels and Thrums offers inspiration and insight to readers and writers alike.
Alan Garner OBE (born 17 October 1934) is an English novelist who is best known for his children's fantasy novels and his retellings of traditional British folk tales. His work is firmly rooted in the landscape, history and folklore of his native county of Cheshire, North West England, being set in the region and making use of the native Cheshire dialect.
Born into a working-class family in Congleton, Cheshire, Garner grew up around the nearby town of Alderley Edge, and spent much of his youth in the wooded area known locally as 'The Edge', where he gained an early interest in the folklore of the region. Studying at Manchester Grammar School and then Oxford University, in 1957 he moved to the nearby village of Blackden, where he bought and renovated an Early Modern building known as Toad Hall. His first novel, The Weirdstone of Brisingamen, was published in 1960. A children's fantasy novel set on the Edge, it incorporated elements of local folklore in its plot and characters. Garner completed a sequel, The Moon of Gomrath (1963), but left the third book of the trilogy he had envisioned. Instead he produced a string of further fantasy novels, Elidor (1965), The Owl Service (1967) and Red Shift (1973).
Turning away from fantasy as a genre, Garner produced The Stone Book Quartet (1979), a series of four short novellas detailing a day in the life of four generations of his family. He also published a series of British folk tales which he had rewritten in a series of books entitled Alan Garner's Fairy Tales of Gold (1979), Alan Garner's Book of British Fairy Tales (1984) and A Bag of Moonshine (1986). In his subsequent novels, Strandloper (1996) and Thursbitch (2003), he continued writing tales revolving around Cheshire, although without the fantasy elements which had characterised his earlier work. In 2012, he finally published a third book in the Weirdstone trilogy.
Probably four to five stars for Garner devotees, perhaps only three to others. 'Powsels and thrums' are the names given to oddments of cloth left after a weaver finishes working. Garner's maternal grandfather was a weaver, and would make clothes from these powsels and thrums. This book also contains Garner's oddments -- essays, a script for a radio play, a short story, small poems. The result is, naturally, a mixture -- some pieces are fascinating, particularly the essays based on Garner's own research into Cheshire. Others are less compelling -- I think there is a good reason that Garner did not write for radio! The book has fewer strong pieces than his other books of essays, The Voice that Thunders but it is still very interesting to read.
Alan Garner's dark, elliptical, often terrifying fantasies are my catnip. I began this book and was instantly smitten: "Handloom weaving produced snippets of cloth which the weaver kept for his own use. These oddments were known as 'powsels and thrums'” -- vocabulary that alone is worth the price of admission -- and then was happily spooked and enthralled by what followed. Often moved, too -- "The Friendliness of the Long-Distance Runner," brief though it is, brought with it the stab of anger and grief that comes with any reminder of what the British government did to Alan Turing.
"The Valley of the Demon" is not to be read when alone in any rural place, I think.
Right. So what emerges over these pages is not a straightforward memoir but pointillism, revealing a writer inextricable from the landscape, the natural life, the history, the topography, the architecture, the habits of the place where he has spent his life, apart from a brief foray into academia. Alan Garner has often been poor. He's old enough to remember hand weaving and to have at his disposal a vocabulary most of us have lost or never known. (I was reminded of Robert Macfarlane and Jackie Morris's "The Lost Words," a response to a new edition of the Oxford Junior Dictionary.)
Here comes the "however." The "however" is that immersion in the local and deep-historical sometimes comes with a side order of tiresome hostility toward the, for want of a better word, modern. I should have seen it coming, maybe: Garner gets ranty about -- well, I'm not exactly sure what his target is. Academic jargon and specifically the language of poststructuralism, it seems, since he cites the notorious case of Alan Sokal's hoodwinking of Social Text's editors. Honestly, I don't have a lot of truck with the post-structuralists & postmodernists myself -- for one thing, I've been out of the academy since 1979 and I never could get the hang of Derrida or Kristeva -- but, like I said, tiresome. (Show me on the doll where the post-structuralist hurt you.)
And then we get a dab of evolutionary psychology. Did you know that males of early H. sapiens couldn't play around with language, because they were too busy trying to survive? So it must have been children, hanging out with the socializing women, who first played with language. Obviously female early H. saps were living the high life, amirite?
I guess it's nice for women to get credit for at least one human accomplishment.
Another phenomenon that can accompany extreme localism -- especially among (repeat after me) straight white cis men -- is an uncharming naivete. Garner writes with a straight face that his process of creation is "uncontaminated by any message, social concern, sermon, dogma or agenda." A TA I had in college once said this: "There is no perspective-free point in the universe." I didn't understand her at the time. Alan Garner seems to be in the paradoxical state of simultaneous heightened awareness of his particular perspective, and obliviousness to the fact that that perspective has large implications.
I don't want to overstate my position here. "Powsels and Thrums" has a great deal to offer anyone interested in the inside of this great writer's head. It's a me problem, most likely, that I'm so disappointed by some of what I found there.
Powsels and Thrums: Tales from a Creative Life by Alan Garner
Thank you to Scribner for the ARC.
Powsels and Thrums is a gently meandering and often beautiful collection of essays, poems, and memories that traces Alan Garner’s creative life from childhood through his long writing career. Garner gathers the scraps of his past, the way a weaver might collect leftover threads, and turns them into something reflective and deeply personal.
The strongest moments tap into place and lineage. His memories of working-class Cheshire, the folklore that shaped his imagination, and the quiet power of Blackden as both home and creative center give the book its emotional weight. There is something grounding in the way he writes about craftsmanship, inheritance, and the people who influenced him.
At times the writing becomes more opaque, more impressionistic, and those sections did not land as clearly for me. Garner’s style can drift into something that feels almost like oral history mixed with poetic abstraction. Some readers will find that enchanting. Others may wish for a bit more clarity.
Still, the overall effect is tender and thoughtful. These essays feel like an artist looking back at the material that shaped him and deciding to honor it as it is. Not polished. Not neatly arranged. Simply true.
“Powsels and Thrums” by Alan Garner is a fascinating look into snippets of the life of Alan Garner. I didn’t always understand his unique style of expressing himself, but learning the history of his house, of people he knew, of his work—I loved the book. It’s hard to express how delightful the book is at times with his unique prose and whimsical memories or how incredible his historical finds were. Overall, an incredible book.
Moments shared about the things that shaped his work and who he is. I am not always one that goes for short stories like this, but I felt they were well put together. A few were meandering or dry but overall quaint.