What do you think?
Rate this book
The South Westerlies
The South Westerlies is an attempt to know place (Gower) through the creation of a collection of short stories. Place is not a cosmetic backdrop, but an affecting agent in the lives of a wide cast of fictional characters. The collection is unified by the tone of the prevalent dank south-westerly wind that blows across the peninsula, the UK’s first designated area of outstanding natural beauty. However, the author chooses to let her gaze fall on the downsides of a much vaunted tourism destination and a place that is too beautiful, perhaps, for its own good.
224 pages, Kindle Edition
Published June 15, 2019
4 people are currently reading
34 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
January 13, 2024
A collection of sullen stories made better to me by their South Wales setting. Whilst some felt flat to me, others portrayed well the feeling of being left behind when the shine of youth fades and also outgrowing a place that is the exact same yet still different no matter how many years pass. 3.5 ⭐️
September 21, 2019
A suitably atmospheric collection of short stories- all pathetic fallacy writ large across a Welsh coastline. Some absolute stonkers in here- The South Westerlies literally blew me away like spectral ash. The Grey Mare and it’s Mari Lwyd folkloric twist. And don’t get me started about Everything You Need to Keep You Buoyant- sublime, waspish stuff. I will definitely be keeping an eye out for Jane Fraser’s work
September 26, 2019
Fraser’s debut, ‘The South Westerlies’, a collection of 18 short stories set mostly in and around Gower, South Wales, is rife and woven with careful detail and design. I could ramble and try to find a multitude of words to describe it, but ultimately, the collection is a joy to read for all those who deeply love intricate prose. A writer who understands their setting so well – as Fraser does of Gower – each story is acute in its texture.
The collection evokes a wide scope of emotion and situation, both the everyday and the slightly obscure – yet they equally reflect life in all its confusing, joyful, melancholic [and on and on] glory. Each piece is a reflection of the self – whether it be told directly or indirectly to us, and each character is believable too. Though perhaps believable isn’t quite the term – Fraser’s characters are more authentic than anything. I could resonate with each piece, some more strongly than others – a gift many writers strive to possess. The decision to make Gower the collection’s home extends this. It connects the pieces not only in theme but in landscape – a shared space in South Wales, where lives are connected throughout the soil and on the breeze. It carries throughout.
The pacing is pretty spot on. To those apprehensive that eighteen stories set in the same place could become somewhat tiresome – another five pages of life, followed by another, then another, Fraser breaks the mould between off-kilter and mundane, between a fully fleshed moment to a quick vignette spanning a night, if that.
‘A Passing Front’ is a stand out tale, as is ‘Just in Case’. More than just surface value, each take elements of the supernatural and the ever so slightly leaning weird and spin strong stories out of each. The former sees a man collecting dead wasps after his wife has left him, carefully gluing their decaying bodies back together. Here Fraser deals in metaphor – the wife returns only to leave later once again, the husband realising too that no matter how much he tries he cannot put the wasps back together – “the heap of death that littered the space in front of me without being able to do anything without it.” It sounds heavy handed, but Fraser weaves it with care.
‘Just in Case’ dips into folklore. Here a woman is haunted by a white owl and Welsh tales her mother has told. Here too, the prose excels – “the next day breaks bright, laced with frost and I dust off the debris of a disturbed night and the gloom that cloaked me the previous evening.” In fact, it does so throughout. Many of Fraser’s stories suspend you in moments and reel you in. Her dedication to beautiful writing is more than welcome. And when she takes us into the everyday drop of Gower life – a farmer on the lookout for a wife, a funeral of a father, surfers and fisherman and a girl who comes back home from university to see all that she’s left behind, the prose elevates each piece to more than just observation. There’s darkness and light throughout – a sense that Gower seeps into everything.
Two of the strongest stories are saved till last – ‘Everything Around Here Is Turning to Rust’ and the title piece ‘The South Westerlies’. It’s a fitting end to the collection.
‘Everything Around Here Is Turning to Rust’ is an accumulation of the many themes Fraser explores. It feels as though she’s plucked characters and situations from the previous pieces and melted them together. Farm work makes a return, as does the ever-present caricature of the housewife, except none of it falls into cliché. Rosie, a mid-20s woman married to a violent man and who she lives with in a caravan with their boys, is as downtrodden and abused as perhaps you’d expect her to be –
“She often wonders if there’s any way out. But you can’t split a farmer from his land. Shut up and put up, is his way of saying it. Sometimes, especially with the drink in him, he’s more adamant.”
Again, the detail of the prose is delicious. “A hybrid of mother Elise and serving wench. She wonders when she turned into this creature she loathes.” – “She carries on looking at the yearling that doesn’t want to be broken by the man planted in the centre of the shed, whose eyes she knows will be pit-black with rage, determined it will be he who will be master.” Fraser captures each and every scene with blinding accuracy.
The title piece is quite rightly kept for the close. It sees Fraser weave back into the off-kilter, presenting us with ghosts – both real and imagined, and an ending that sees the remnants of a former life go up in literal flames. It’s a powerful story, told, as are the majority of the collection, with a secure sense of style and lyrical prose.
‘The South Westerlies’ a confident, assured debut from Fraser – a writer who knows her subject and knows how to write it true and well.
The collection evokes a wide scope of emotion and situation, both the everyday and the slightly obscure – yet they equally reflect life in all its confusing, joyful, melancholic [and on and on] glory. Each piece is a reflection of the self – whether it be told directly or indirectly to us, and each character is believable too. Though perhaps believable isn’t quite the term – Fraser’s characters are more authentic than anything. I could resonate with each piece, some more strongly than others – a gift many writers strive to possess. The decision to make Gower the collection’s home extends this. It connects the pieces not only in theme but in landscape – a shared space in South Wales, where lives are connected throughout the soil and on the breeze. It carries throughout.
The pacing is pretty spot on. To those apprehensive that eighteen stories set in the same place could become somewhat tiresome – another five pages of life, followed by another, then another, Fraser breaks the mould between off-kilter and mundane, between a fully fleshed moment to a quick vignette spanning a night, if that.
‘A Passing Front’ is a stand out tale, as is ‘Just in Case’. More than just surface value, each take elements of the supernatural and the ever so slightly leaning weird and spin strong stories out of each. The former sees a man collecting dead wasps after his wife has left him, carefully gluing their decaying bodies back together. Here Fraser deals in metaphor – the wife returns only to leave later once again, the husband realising too that no matter how much he tries he cannot put the wasps back together – “the heap of death that littered the space in front of me without being able to do anything without it.” It sounds heavy handed, but Fraser weaves it with care.
‘Just in Case’ dips into folklore. Here a woman is haunted by a white owl and Welsh tales her mother has told. Here too, the prose excels – “the next day breaks bright, laced with frost and I dust off the debris of a disturbed night and the gloom that cloaked me the previous evening.” In fact, it does so throughout. Many of Fraser’s stories suspend you in moments and reel you in. Her dedication to beautiful writing is more than welcome. And when she takes us into the everyday drop of Gower life – a farmer on the lookout for a wife, a funeral of a father, surfers and fisherman and a girl who comes back home from university to see all that she’s left behind, the prose elevates each piece to more than just observation. There’s darkness and light throughout – a sense that Gower seeps into everything.
Two of the strongest stories are saved till last – ‘Everything Around Here Is Turning to Rust’ and the title piece ‘The South Westerlies’. It’s a fitting end to the collection.
‘Everything Around Here Is Turning to Rust’ is an accumulation of the many themes Fraser explores. It feels as though she’s plucked characters and situations from the previous pieces and melted them together. Farm work makes a return, as does the ever-present caricature of the housewife, except none of it falls into cliché. Rosie, a mid-20s woman married to a violent man and who she lives with in a caravan with their boys, is as downtrodden and abused as perhaps you’d expect her to be –
“She often wonders if there’s any way out. But you can’t split a farmer from his land. Shut up and put up, is his way of saying it. Sometimes, especially with the drink in him, he’s more adamant.”
Again, the detail of the prose is delicious. “A hybrid of mother Elise and serving wench. She wonders when she turned into this creature she loathes.” – “She carries on looking at the yearling that doesn’t want to be broken by the man planted in the centre of the shed, whose eyes she knows will be pit-black with rage, determined it will be he who will be master.” Fraser captures each and every scene with blinding accuracy.
The title piece is quite rightly kept for the close. It sees Fraser weave back into the off-kilter, presenting us with ghosts – both real and imagined, and an ending that sees the remnants of a former life go up in literal flames. It’s a powerful story, told, as are the majority of the collection, with a secure sense of style and lyrical prose.
‘The South Westerlies’ a confident, assured debut from Fraser – a writer who knows her subject and knows how to write it true and well.
August 29, 2019
A collection of 18 short stories set across the Gower near Swansea. Whilst it seems the stories are not linked, quite a few to seem to be perspectives from a different person from a different story. The stories capture the Gower coast quite well, bringing it alive for the reader. The stories are also quite haunting, dealing with a variety of issues. A good read.
October 21, 2025
I've read both of Jane Fraser's collection of short stories ... "The South Westerlies" and "Connective Tissue." Each and every story resonated deep within and her characters stayed in my mind long after I had read the words. Ms. Fraser's talent as a writer is obvious. She has a God-given ability to expose a character's anguish through their complex thought process or via acerbic dialogue. Indeed, I find it riveting that Ms. Fraser can strike a nerve into human foibles in much the same way as a careless dentist can strike a painful nerve with his drill. But Ms. Fraser also is adept at making her readers feel empathy, even in those who are not always likeable people. Her transitioning of emotions within characters is certainly the badge of a good writer.
Many of her stories centre in and around the Gower Peninsula of Wales, which I discovered from my brief research, is one of the most beautiful spots in the UK. However, beneath those sweeping seaside cliffs and beaches, quaint cottages, and neat-as-a-pin farms with patchwork quilt plots of land, lies an underbelly of darkness in society which Ms. Fraser reveals to her readers with subtle pokes and clever jabs.
It would be unfair of me to say I have a favourite story because all are wonderfully stated. But the one story which has lingered and persisted the longest in my psyche is "The Gower Explorer." It dwells on the widowed character of Gwen Beynon, a lady who has been treated like a piece of farm chattel her entire adult life; first by her father who shucks her off like livestock to a future husband. That husband, in turn, holds her under his thumb in a loveless marriage, and even worse, points the fault at her because they're childless. Gwen says, "There's been a lot of nevers in my life. Never driven, never read, never written, never had a passport, never had a cheque book, never had children." When Gwen's husband dies, she discovers a strange but exhilarated freedom, a feeling she's not experienced before. She begins to speak her Welsh native tongue, something she hasn't used in decades. Gwen rides the Gower Explorer bus around the peninsula and estuaries, deep in thought, and subconsciously searching for ways to rid herself of the constraints which has shackled her for a lifetime. I was spellbound by the manner in which Gwen's emotional pendulum swung to and fro. By the end I found myself cheering for Gwen, desperately wanting her to be happy in the few remaining years of her life. The character of Gwen, a farmer's daughter and then a farmer's wife, is more realistic than most farm women might want to admit. It's that realism which hooks me so deep into Ms Fraser's writing.
I should add I've read "Advent," Ms. Fraser's first full-length novel. It's an excellent read! I'm also looking forward to her next novel "Weights and Measures" which is to be released this autumn.
I highly recommend Jane Fraser's work. To all you readers ... I guarantee you won't be disappointed.
Wm. Bergman
Many of her stories centre in and around the Gower Peninsula of Wales, which I discovered from my brief research, is one of the most beautiful spots in the UK. However, beneath those sweeping seaside cliffs and beaches, quaint cottages, and neat-as-a-pin farms with patchwork quilt plots of land, lies an underbelly of darkness in society which Ms. Fraser reveals to her readers with subtle pokes and clever jabs.
It would be unfair of me to say I have a favourite story because all are wonderfully stated. But the one story which has lingered and persisted the longest in my psyche is "The Gower Explorer." It dwells on the widowed character of Gwen Beynon, a lady who has been treated like a piece of farm chattel her entire adult life; first by her father who shucks her off like livestock to a future husband. That husband, in turn, holds her under his thumb in a loveless marriage, and even worse, points the fault at her because they're childless. Gwen says, "There's been a lot of nevers in my life. Never driven, never read, never written, never had a passport, never had a cheque book, never had children." When Gwen's husband dies, she discovers a strange but exhilarated freedom, a feeling she's not experienced before. She begins to speak her Welsh native tongue, something she hasn't used in decades. Gwen rides the Gower Explorer bus around the peninsula and estuaries, deep in thought, and subconsciously searching for ways to rid herself of the constraints which has shackled her for a lifetime. I was spellbound by the manner in which Gwen's emotional pendulum swung to and fro. By the end I found myself cheering for Gwen, desperately wanting her to be happy in the few remaining years of her life. The character of Gwen, a farmer's daughter and then a farmer's wife, is more realistic than most farm women might want to admit. It's that realism which hooks me so deep into Ms Fraser's writing.
I should add I've read "Advent," Ms. Fraser's first full-length novel. It's an excellent read! I'm also looking forward to her next novel "Weights and Measures" which is to be released this autumn.
I highly recommend Jane Fraser's work. To all you readers ... I guarantee you won't be disappointed.
Wm. Bergman
June 17, 2019
“the land was in her blood”
The South Westerlies, by Jane Fraser, is a collection of eighteen short stories mostly set in and around the Gower area of South Wales. The land is depicted as windswept and often damp. Family roots run deep although some branches long for an escape.
Each tale stands alone yet there are suggestions that the cast of characters interweaves. Many in the community have familiar names. Places feature in numerous tales.
The farming families have tended the land for generations. Young men who take on their father’s farms look for wives who, like their mothers, will have dinner on the table at a set time whilst raising sons to ensure a continuum.
“Gower born and Gower bred
Strong of arm and good in bed”
The farmers’ teenage daughters accept as husbands the sons of neighbouring farmers – those suggested by their parents. They feel complimented when described as “good breeding stock”. They consider with satisfaction the agricultural acres joined by such marriages. Later in life these women ponder their lot. Stories included tell of widows who do not mourn the loss of husbands who demanded that they “put up and shut up”.
Other stories introduce young people who left the area to build lives elsewhere. They return to visit embittered parents, still critical of the strengths shown that enabled their offspring’s escape. School friends who stayed – met up with again after many years – conjure memories and thoughts of what might have been. Severing from a root may not eradicate it.
There is much grief in the tales: longed for children who were never born; children lost young whose shadows forever weaken sunbeams of happiness.
Within families there is blame and resentment. Men try to control wifely behaviour. Parents complain of their grown children’s choices and distance. Friends ponder what they have missed by letting time drift.
In Look What the Wind’s Blown In a young couple try to help an increasingly infirm elderly parent. The old man wants his daughter-in-law to look after him as his wife once did. When more practical alternatives are offered there is an impasse.
In Search of the Perfect Wave introduces a surfer’s consuming need to chase the perfect wave. In this and other stories, unhappiness exists when a character cannot find the strength to insist that their needs are considered. Desires are individual and rarely transferable.
This is the Boat that Dad Built is a moving account of a family man who tries his best and, for one summer, succeeds. It offers a reminder that happiness is hard to bestow without willing acceptance from a recipient. Individuals cannot be all things to all people.
The stories are often bleak yet the sense of place evoked is one of dark beauty and an innate affinity. The writing is polished but also affecting with each story harbouring nuance and depth. This is a recommended read.
The South Westerlies, by Jane Fraser, is a collection of eighteen short stories mostly set in and around the Gower area of South Wales. The land is depicted as windswept and often damp. Family roots run deep although some branches long for an escape.
Each tale stands alone yet there are suggestions that the cast of characters interweaves. Many in the community have familiar names. Places feature in numerous tales.
The farming families have tended the land for generations. Young men who take on their father’s farms look for wives who, like their mothers, will have dinner on the table at a set time whilst raising sons to ensure a continuum.
“Gower born and Gower bred
Strong of arm and good in bed”
The farmers’ teenage daughters accept as husbands the sons of neighbouring farmers – those suggested by their parents. They feel complimented when described as “good breeding stock”. They consider with satisfaction the agricultural acres joined by such marriages. Later in life these women ponder their lot. Stories included tell of widows who do not mourn the loss of husbands who demanded that they “put up and shut up”.
Other stories introduce young people who left the area to build lives elsewhere. They return to visit embittered parents, still critical of the strengths shown that enabled their offspring’s escape. School friends who stayed – met up with again after many years – conjure memories and thoughts of what might have been. Severing from a root may not eradicate it.
There is much grief in the tales: longed for children who were never born; children lost young whose shadows forever weaken sunbeams of happiness.
Within families there is blame and resentment. Men try to control wifely behaviour. Parents complain of their grown children’s choices and distance. Friends ponder what they have missed by letting time drift.
In Look What the Wind’s Blown In a young couple try to help an increasingly infirm elderly parent. The old man wants his daughter-in-law to look after him as his wife once did. When more practical alternatives are offered there is an impasse.
In Search of the Perfect Wave introduces a surfer’s consuming need to chase the perfect wave. In this and other stories, unhappiness exists when a character cannot find the strength to insist that their needs are considered. Desires are individual and rarely transferable.
This is the Boat that Dad Built is a moving account of a family man who tries his best and, for one summer, succeeds. It offers a reminder that happiness is hard to bestow without willing acceptance from a recipient. Individuals cannot be all things to all people.
The stories are often bleak yet the sense of place evoked is one of dark beauty and an innate affinity. The writing is polished but also affecting with each story harbouring nuance and depth. This is a recommended read.
July 6, 2021
'The South Westerlies' is a haunting collection of short stories set on the Gower peninsula in Wales. It contains some brilliantly gothic slices of Gower life, often bringing the strangeness of local myth and folklore into modern settings. Gower boasts a dramatic coastline, and in the summer months its beaches are filled with tourists, but Jane Fraser’s stories are set out of season, and focus on the peninsula’s darker corners. The title story was my favourite: about an older couple who buy a house that coincidentally contains an oak table from the wife’s first marriage. The table becomes an overbearing presence in their lives, and at night its wood cracks and groans as the house is filled with the smell of a particular brand of cigarettes. The whole collection is brilliant, but it’s worth reading for that story alone.
August 27, 2020
These 18 short stories made me view my home and identity in South Wales, in a whole new way. These stories are beautiful, haunting. The descriptions of the Gower, Rhosilli, and surrounding areas are at times bleak, sometimes mysterious, yet they are always a place for understanding and serenity. Fraser captures all this and more with dazzling clarity.
August 21, 2019
These stories are dark, yes, and unsettling, but there’s also a great deal of tenderness as Fraser dissects her characters for the reader's examination. It’s a beautiful first collection.
September 28, 2019
Such fabulous short stories each telling just a snippet of someone's life. Some a lightly linked, others feel more separate. But they're all so beautiful and conjure emotion in the reader.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews