'Hamilton's book is a marvel . . . I'm not sure he could write a dull sentence if he tried'Spectator
One of Duncan Hamilton's favourite writers on cricket, Edmund Blunden, wrote how he felt going to watch a game: 'You arrive early, earlier even than you meant . . . and you feel a little guilty at the thought of the day you propose to give up to sheer luxury'.
Following Neville Cardus's assertion that 'there can be no summer in this land without cricket', Hamilton plotted the games he would see in 2019 and write down reflectively on some of the cricket that blessed his own sight. It would be captured in the context of the coming season in case subsequent summers and the imminent arrival of The Hundred made that impossible. He would write in the belief that after this season the game might never be quite the same again.
He visits Welbeck Colliery Cricket Club to see Nottinghamshire play Hampshire at the tiny ground of Sookholme, gifted to the club by a local philanthropist who takes money on the gate; his village team at Menston in Yorkshire; the county ground at Hove; watches Ben Stokes's heroics at Headingley, marvels at Jofra Archer's gift of speed in a Second XI fixture for Sussex against Gloucestershire in front of 74 people and three well-behaved dogs; and realises when he reaches the last afternoon of the final county match of the season at Taunton, 'How blessed I am to have been born here. How I never want to live anywhere else. How much I love cricket.'
One Long and Beautiful Summer forms a companion volume to Hamilton's 2009 classic, A Last English Summer. It is sports writing at its most accomplished and evocative, confirming his reputation as the finest contemporary chronicler of the game.
This is a beautifully written cricket book which I largely agree with the premise of.
BUT one thing hasn't aged very well in the couple of years since its release... there is a whole passage at the beginning talking about the inclusivity of county cricket and how welcoming it is for overseas players. How nobody cares what colour or creed you are, it's all about the cricket you play.... All part of a discussion with a couple of Yorkshire fans on the boundary at a CC match. Uh, yeah, sure. You keep telling yourselves that, fellas.
A love letter to red ball cricket, why it matters and why it should be protected as a sport. This book for me came at the right time, as the season has been disrupted by global events, it highlights why the domestic game is so important to communities. A wonderful read!
A beautifully written love letter to the red-ball format. It comes at a time where ODI’s, T20’s and The Hundred threaten the Test game but it’s a reminder why it is so special and unique.
Duncan Hamilton is a master of his craft, never wasting a word as he takes you to quaint villages and heartlands of the game
If you’re a red-ball fan it’s perfect reading.
If you’re not, this may help you understand why so many are enamoured with it.
“There can be no summer in this land without cricket.”
Beautifully written book. Full of nostalgia set against the wonderful English landscape. From the village green to Lords, it's all in there. I would highly recommend.
I thought that this book was wonderful. It's written by a real cricket lover and his love for the game, the places it is played, and its history shine through every page. The book tells the story of his trip round England from April to September in 2019. He happened to be at Headingley on that fateful memorable day when Stokes and Leach won the game for England, and his description of that epic is the best I've read. He tells some amusing stories, not least that the headline in the local paper in Leach's home town read something like "Leach and Stokes see England home", honour clearly being given as the headliner writer saw appropriate.
Read this rather than the Michael Henderson equivalent "That will be England gone" if one elegy to red ball cricket is enough for you.
This “elegy for red-ball cricket” is written in Duncan Hamilton’s signature poetic style. I’m doing so, Hamilton views the game through the sepia-tinted spectacles that are apparently now standard issue for the over 60s and gets angry at the present. He rails against everything from The Hundred to - bizarrely- floodlights and seemingly won’t be happy unless all cricket is played over four days by farmers on village greens. At tea, the players would no doubt open wicker baskets to reveal a feast possibly featuring gammon preserved in aspic - coincidentally a perfect description of Hamilton himself.
Less structured than its predecessor, I was hoping this would lead to more interesting tangents but instead I felt Hamilton got a bit carried away with being a writer.
The aspects I like about Hamilton's writing are what he sees in games he attends, whereas here there was his own perspective of the 2019 Headingley test - much as he was sick of replays of Edgbaston 2005 in his last book, I don't feel as though his retelling of the match added a lot of new content, even from his perspective in the stands. Most of it was quite obviously observations from the television coverage.
There were still good chapters, but the big topics had been covered in his previous volume, meaning that I recall the stories - Martin Crowe playing at his village team, and the realities of running a small club, was one that stood out for me - more than his thoughts on the game. As I had half-expected, he had come to like T20 if not become an ardent fan, and I wonder whether he will mellow with regards to The Hundred and opine that "whatever you think of it, it has done wonders for the women's game" like so many of his peers do now. I wonder what he thinks of women's cricket on the whole, actually, given that he hasn't covered it here.
Curiously, the case he made for the red ball game wasn't actually that strong. He liked a lot of the peripheral aspects like the agreeable crowd, the grounds, and evoking memories of childhood. He asked what the man doing his own scorecards would do if there was no cricket (probably taking a notebook to railway stations) and talked up the experience at Welbeck, Scarborough and York. But he didn't really do much to sell the game itself, and I often feel that red ball cricket is like literary fiction, in that part of the fun is being able to point out you can appreciate it.
Perhaps I'm being unfair on Hamilton, and he doesn't feel the need to talk it up. I admired the range of topics covered rather than just producing match reports, and the book was worth reading. I just didn't get swept up in it as much as his previous, superior book on a very similar theme.
As I’ve observed in other reviews of cricket books, the game, more than any other, lends itself to great writing. Duncan Hamilton, biographer of Neville Cardus, perhaps the greatest cricket writer of all in a crowded field, summons the spirit of ‘the great romantic’ in the closing pages of his latest book. Writing about the commercial and cultural pressures that have seen the County Championship, for so long the beating heart of the English game, he quotes Cardus’s famous line, ‘There can be no summer in this land without cricket’ and remarks that ‘the Championship needed - and still needs - the most eloquent advocates it can find’. Hamilton himself writes like a dream - perhaps he has absorbed some of Cardus’s spirit - and the book is compulsively readable. He pulls off the seemingly difficult trick of being simultaneously elegiac, deeply knowledgable, astute to the modern pressures on the game yet sharp enough to see through the marketing guff put out by the ECB, and still thrilled and moved by the game he loves, and able to write about it in such a way as to enthral and excite the reader.
Not quite in the league of Neville Cardus or John Arlott, Duncan Hamilton gives a series of snapshots of his 2019 Summer season of tests and county games as he picks out the highlights and lowlights of his beloved game of cricket. I found it best read in the imagined voice and burr of the great commentator Arlott. Hamilton is convinced that One-day or half-day limited over white ball matches, with the incentive to hit out to or over the boundary, are or will be the death knell of the traditional three day red ball county championship matches. In fact the evidence is that the crowds will turn up and be excited by five day tests and three day county games, if the cricket is attractive and/or tense and the big hitting is a regular feature, when appropriate. However he makes us think and he entertains us with anecdotes from village, city, county and international competitions.
Of course I’ve heard of Duncan Hamilton. Why haven’t I read any of his books? Haven’t a clue. One thing’s for sure, I’ll be catching up on his back catalogue after reading One Long and Beautiful Summer. The year in question is 2019, the year of England men winning the World Cricket Cup, the Ashes and Ben Stokes. But it’s about so much more and, as a cricket fan of almost 70 years I can identify with so much of which Hamilton writes. It’s funny, sad, exciting and beautifully written. Not to be missed.
David Lowther. Author of The Blue Pencil, Liberating Belsen, Two Families at War and The Summer of ‘39, all published by Sacristy Press.
A wonderful elegy to the last season of County cricket before the Hundred was to begin this year. However current events have delayed the start of the new format until 2021. This does not detract from the emotion or beauty of the book. I found the final chapter particularly moving. Hamilton has a way with words which draws you in and makes one empathetic to the story, a quality not always found in nonfiction.
I would highly recommend this book and its sister 'A Last English Summer' to any fan of cricket.
This is a must-read for cricket fans. I'm not sure I've read a more enjoyable book in the last 10 years. Hamilton's writing is astonishingly good, it's the sort of book where you want to stop every few pages and tell somebody nearby how good particular paragraphs were.
It tells the story of the 2019 English cricket season, from the village green to the Test arena. From beginning to end it's a treat for anyone who enjoys cricket. On completing it I immediately started searching for his other books, which I'll read next.
“Hampshire had been plugging away with pace, chiefly because of Abbott’s successes, which it seemed ridiculous to interrupt. But just after quarter past four, as tea approached, the ball was handed to the leg-spinner Mason Crane. Still only 22, slight and blondish, Crane arrived as a respite from the grunt of seam. You greeted him like the surprise visitor you most wanted to find at your front door.”
A polemic against the innovations in English cricket that threaten the traditional game. I was ready to dismiss the author's arguments as those of a curmudgeon but I think he just about convinces as a romantic obsessive instead of a reactionary old fool. It helps that the meat of the book - florid and enjoyable looks at the literary, historic, and geographic heritage of cricket - is very enjoyable.
Duncan Hamilton is the Neville Cardus of the modern era. He writes beautifully and elegantly about his passion for cricket, whether it be a Test match, County Championship or village green. I loved this book but it is let down by some poor proofreading.
A really excellent read. Takes you back to the summer of 2019. Hamilton gives such good descriptions of the sights and sounds, you feel like you’re there with him. I also wholeheartedly agree with his feelings about the dangers of The Hundred. A must read for any cricket fan.
A wonderful read. Duncan Hamiltons love for the County Championship shines through on every page. It leaves you similarly enthused and worried about the future of this unique sporting institution. Very highly recommended.
This book should be read by not only every cricket fan, but anyone with any interest in sport. A warning of what can be lost when "progress", short term consumerism and money are chased at the expense of your heritage.
A short but beautifully written elegiac homage to English cricket. A great antidote as I sit here listening in hope to a test match in Sydney, and one that explains how so many of us feel about the County Championship in spite of the efforts of the ECB and its new rounders competition.
This is an extremely elegantly written book about a summer of cricket in England. Hamilton had a wonderful style and turn of phrase. Highly recommended to any cricket fan, from any part of the world.
Typical Hamilton: a love of cricket, elements of social history and a synthesis of glory (Ashes! Stokes!) and disappointment (nobody at county cricket!). The modern Cardus.