The day they were sent home early from school because of a threatening blizzard, Amy rode with the other pupils in Mrs. Rhys's van to where the road ended, but from there she had to trudge by herself through the driving snowflakes to the Gwyntfa, the gray stone cottage where she lived alone with her grandmother, Mrs. Bowen. Once home, Amy knew she was safe. With a well-stoked larder and plenty of oil for the lamps, her grandmother promised her they might even enjoy being snowed in. They liked each other's company and every night would sit one on each side of the fire, working at their patchwork quilt until it was time for a cup of tea and a game of Patience or Two-handed Whist before bed.
But on the day the snow began they never played their game of cards. They were interrupted by a growl from Amy's dog, a tremendous thump at the door, and an intrusion of such violence as they had never in their lives met before. Yet though there was no way of telling who their intruder might be, Mrs. Bowen somehow knew he meant them no harm; and in the four extraordinary days that followed, bringing intruders of a different kind, Amy discovered that her grandmother's instinct had been right.
Against the beautifully portrayed background of a Welsh hillfarm in winter, suspense mounts almost unbearably for Amy and her grandmother - and for the reader as well - as they face ruthless evil in this contemporary story superbly told by a distinguished writer.
EMMA SMITH was born in Cornwall in 1923 and was privately educated. In 1939 she took her first job in the Records Department of the War Office before volunteering for work on the canals; this gave her the material for Maidens' Trip (1948), which won the John Llewellyn Rhys Memorial Prize. She spent the winter of 1946-7 with a documentary film unit in India and then lived in Paris and wrote The Far Cry (1949), awarded the James Tait Black Memorial Prize for the best novel of the year in English. In 1951 Emma Smith married and had two children. After her husband's death in 1957 she went to live in rural Wales; she then published very successful children's books, short stories (one of which was runner-up in the 1951 Observer short story competition that launched the winner, Muriel Spark, on her career) and, in 1978, her novel The Opportunity of a Lifetime. Since 1980 she has lived in Putney in south-west London.
A well-paced, nervewracking story set in long ago wintery Wales. It gives Little House on the Prairie vibes but in a more fun setting that is close to my heart since my roots are Welsh.
I remember reading this book several times as a child. Probably the best review would be to confess that I would love to read the book again - now that I'm all grown up. That's partly because of the nostalgia for my childhood days, and partly because the book really captures a magic rural atmosphere and then draws the reader into a really thrilling plot.
My suggestion is to read it on a snowy day - I'm sure the reading will go on in the night as well :)
Amy and her Grandmother are snowed up in their mountain cottage in Wales. Far from a quiet few days they get caught up with some unexpected visitors. Who can they trust ? There's no way of telling.
Amy is sent home from school early. A snowstorm is coming, and Amy and her grandmother are trapped in their cottage in the country. Amy's grandmother has prepared well; the larder is fully stocked and the cottage is nicely warmed by the fire. And then suddenly an intruder bursts into the cottage and Amy and her grandmother are right in the middle of danger and struggle. And there is no way to tell who to believe or what is really going on.
It's refreshing to read this thriller written at just the right level of suspense for kids. The bucolic setting is ideal, too, with all the details about ordinary daily life in the country in Wales. You can't help but admire the characters of Amy and her grandmother---their courage, their resourcefulness.
When Amy and her grandmother are snowed in by a blizzard in Wales, they expect to entertain themselves by listening to the radio and quilting. Instead, they are terrorized by an escaped prisoner and the men sent after him, and it is up to Amy to somehow make her way back to civilization to seek help - if she can survive the next storm.
I have never gone wrong with a Margaret K. McElderry Book.
Incredibly vivid, beautifully described setting featuring a snowbound stone cottage in rural Wales. It was so cozy from the very first chapter that I felt as if I'd gone and disappeared into their isolated world, which might easily have been set much earlier in the 20th century if not for just enough references to set it in contemporary times (for 1972).
The pleasant daily routines established by the young girl, her grandmother and their handful of animals for weathering the storm are soon interrupted by two policemen who turn up uninvited and insist on food and lodging while tracking a supposed murderer, despite being generally sketchy themselves. Days of tension ultimately result in a thrilling hero's quest by young Amy, leading up to an exciting conclusion and good resolution to all the mysteries.
I loved all the characters (especially Mick, Amy's loyal terrier) and felt nothing but pure joy while reading this, so much so that I even made myself read much more slowly and patiently than usual, lest I miss a single sentence.
I had previously read, and very much enjoyed, Emma Smith's The Far Cry, which was reprinted by Persephone in 2002. I was keen to read more of Smith's work, and ordered a gorgeous old paperback version of No Way of Telling, a novel which she wrote for children. It stood out to me as a seasonal choice which I could read over the winter season.
The protagonist of No Way of Telling is a young, and highly likeable, girl named Amy Bowen, who lives with her grandmother in rural Radnorshire in Wales, two miles away from the nearest village, and five from her school. When the novel begins, it is wintertime, and a terrible snowstorm is on its way. Once Amy returns from school, she and her grandmother stay inside, 'safely-happy in the warmth of their mountain cottage while the blizzard raged outside.' All of a sudden, 'the door broke open, and there stood a shape so big that to Amy it was more of a monster than a man. He said nothing, only grabbed some food and disappeared again into the stormy darkness.' He is like something from 'a bad dream, except that Amy and Mrs Bowen knew they were both awake.' Grandmother and granddaughter are fearful; they wonder who he is, if he will return, and whether he is 'hunter or hunted'. They have, at this point, 'no way of telling'.
So much attention has been paid to the rural surroundings throughout the novel. Smith's descriptions, particularly of the snowy landscape, are glorious. When the blizzard begins, and Amy is walking home, she writes: 'The flakes were big and loose, soft white lumps of snow blowing across sideways on the wind as though they too were in haste to get home.' She goes on to describe the effects which such weather has on her young protagonist: 'Snow, she thought, was a marvel - it was indeed! Snow was like nothing else: it changed the world, the whole of life, in a matter of moments. Not only the shapes of trees and grasses were changed but daily habits - even laws lost their power and had no meaning when snow fell.' Throughout, Smith explores the weather, and the nuances in the way it changes, fantastically. As Amy walks on, she captures the fear and disorientation which such a blizzard can bring with it: 'There was nothing to see; nothing but a white swarming nothingness. The hill that rose up in front of her was invisible and the snow itself had altered. The flakes were smaller now and driving harder. She was uncertain of how far she had come, uncertain of exactly where she was; and as she realized this she felt a conscious movement inside her, the sudden squeeze of sudden fright.'
There is a dark thread which weaves its way through the entire novel. Whilst it is aimed at children, the writing is not at all simplified, and Smith does not intentionally hide things from her readers. The mystery element, of the man's identity and the appearance of two men who appear afterwards, has been well handled. The denouement of No Way of Telling is wonderful; it both surprises and satisfies in equal measure. Smith has created a wonderfully palpable tension in her novel.
No Way of Telling is the perfect wintry read. Smith was shortlisted for the 1973 Carnegie Medal for this novel, and one can see why almost immediately. Her story is compelling, her characters wonderfully realistic, and her prose layered and intelligent. She explores the relationship between the young girl and her grandmother, and the way in which the appearance of the stranger impacts upon their daily life. Smith's narrative style is engaging, and her two protagonists feel three-dimensional. The novel appealed to me greatly as an adult reader, and had it been published as an adult novel, I would not have been at all disappointed with it.
This is one of my favourite books. There is something charming and beautiful about Emma Smith's style, and the dialogue is peppered with original expressions and phrases. I have read this book many times, and never grown tired of it. The characters are believable, and the plot, while straightforward, is gripping.
A good story, with only a little plot hole in the end. Good characters and pacing. I really would have LOVED this had I read it as a young girl! The heroine is quite resourceful, yet very believable. Definitely recommend for YA readers!!
I wanted to like this book more than I ended up doing, but I'm sorry--it just wasn't real enough to be social realism, or fantastic enough to be fantasy. Amy is supposed to be about nine years old, and she is waaay too advanced. She thinks and reasons like an adult, and though I too was v. advanced by Amy's age, risk assessment is not in it at that stage of life. Aside from the fact that I also grew up in blizzard country, and I'm sorry, no child (or adult) with any sense at all goes waltzing around in a blizzard, in the middle of the night, on dangerous terrain. It's one of life's first lessons in that sort of climate. Not even a case of frost-bite? Which I also got one day when we were sent home from school three hours early, ahead of the coming blizzard. Like Amy, I had to walk about a mile because there was no one to fetch me. And that was at high noon! Ivor is Gary Stu to Amy's Mary Sue--his brain works lightning fast weighing up risk factors, possibilities etc. and of course he's way smarter than the killer! Of course he is.
Another thing. I can understand that an isolated cottage on the Welsh marshes might well not have electricity in 1972, but really--Amy writes with a dip pen and ink? C'mon, the biro had been available everywhere by about 1965.
It just wasn't terribly credible, not any of it. The story is wild, sort of James Bond for kids...eh. It is well-written, if you like that sort of thing, but it wasn't for me. The unpleasant characters were obvious psychopaths, the ending is rushed and glossed over, and even so I caught myself skimming.
What a gorgeous little gem of a book! The writing is refreshing, realistic and witty. The story builds up into a crescendo of drama, which gives you time to fall in love with the characters. I would recommend this book if you love reading about human relationships and interactions. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Sent home early from school one Tuesday afternoon, after a blizzard descends on her region of the Welsh Marches, Amy Bowen is prepared for a cozy time snowed up with her grandmother at the Gwyntfa—the remote hillside cottage where the two live. Neither expect to have their peace disturbed by the arrival of a desperate but silent man, who steals some blankets and a leg of mutton from them before heading off into the swirling snow. Nor do they expect the two ski-wearing men who arrive afterward—policeman in search of the fugitive. All is not what it seems however, and Amy and Mrs. Bowen find that they have no way of telling who is in the right and who the wrong, who should be aided and who resisted. They must rely on instinct to know what to do, and when danger threatens, on courage...
Published in 1972, No Way of Telling is one of a handful of children's books written by Emma Smith, who is also well-known as the author of a number of well-regarded memoirs, one about her childhood in Cornwall (The Great Western Beach), and one about her time working on England's canals during World War II (Maidens' Trip: A Wartime Adventure on the Grand Union Canal). In any case, I approached this book knowing very little about it, other than the fact that it was included in Julia Eccleshare's 1001 Children's Books You Must Read Before You Grow Up. As it happens, it was chosen by a friend, for our bi-weekly reading club, and I am very glad it was! I found it immensely engaging, immediately sucked into the suspenseful story of Amy and her grandmother's struggle to follow the right course of action, in the face of confusion and danger. Not only is this a suspenseful adventure story, it is also a thoughtful exploration of ethical reasoning, and of how we make sense of a world in which we have incomplete information. How to know who people are is a perpetual concern for most people, I would imagine, and Smith offers a sensitive, nuanced look at that issue, through the experiences of her young heroine. Highly recommended to young readers who enjoy thrilling adventure stories! It would make an interesting companion to another story of young people in Wales who are snowed up in a blizzard: Rosalie K. Fry's Snowed Up.
Imagine it is the dead of winter. You are a young child, named Amy, who lives in a rural community in Wales with your beloved granny. A blizzard is coming and you hurriedly finish all your chores and help prepare dinner. You live a great distance away from the nearest village, and so caring neighbors bring you goods to help see you both through the snowstorm. Safe and warm with full stomachs you both take your place near the blazing fire to enjoy the rest of the evening together. All of a sudden, "the door broke open, and there stood a shape so big that to Amy it was more of a monster than a man. He said nothing, only grabbed some food and disappeared again into the stormy darkness." He is like something from "a bad dream, except that Amy and Mrs. Bowen knew they were both awake." Absolutely terrified and in shock over what has just occurred, you and granny ponder who the man is, if and when he will return, and whether he is "hunter or hunted". At this point in the story, there is no way of telling.
Smith’s descriptions, particularly of the barren rural isolation, and bitterly cold, snow laden landscape make it the perfect wintry read. Smith highlights Amy and granny’s relationship, and the way in which the appearance of the mysterious stranger impacts and changes their daily routine and life. The story was written and intended for children (Smith was nominated for the Carnegie Medal in ‘73 for this book), but I think it would greatly appeal to adults as well. I absolutely loved it, and think if you are a fan of Joan Aiken's "Wolves Of Willoughby Chase" series, definitely read this book! In my opinion superb children’s authors are never afraid to weave a dark thread into their stories creating suspense and tension. "No Way of Telling" is an engaging and thoughtful story about human perception, trust, deceit, and the importance of community.
For someone like me who loves books set in cold, snowy environments No Way of Telling was impossible to resist, especially with the stunning original 1972 jacket illustration by Victor Mays. It’s a very far-fetched children’s story (with shades of The Thirty-nine Steps) in which an episode of South American revolutionary politics is played out against the backdrop of a Welsh mountain landscape experiencing the worst winter in living memory. If the plot requires a massive suspension of disbelief, the descriptions of landscape and human warmth amidst snow and ice are beautifully done and ideal reading for this time of year. Emma Smith, who died last year after a long life, wrote books for adults and children ranging widely in subject matter, often inspired by episodes in her own life; No Way of Telling (an excellent title, with multiple meanings), was inspired by her experience of bringing up two children as a young widow in the remote Radnorshire countryside and the bitter winters she encountered there.
Aaaah, a world with no computers or cell phones . . wait, no electricity or plumbing, either. No running water, no central heating, no microfiber clothing - where the heck are we? Not in ancient Rome, nor yet in medieval London, no, we're all the way back to 1972 on a sheep farm in Wales - that's where. And what a corker of a tale Emma Smith has to tell. The international intrigue pales in the face of the gripping survival-in-a-blizzard narrative, but the two together make for a terrific old-fashioned read. Now off to search for more by Ms. Smith.
As much as I wanted to, I couldn't get past a quarter of this book. It was so dry and seemed unbelievable that an intruder would enter a cottage and steal their food and yet it was not portrayed as overly alarming. Her writing is so pointed and factual. The tone was eerie within the coldness of her writing, but it lacked something, yet I don't know what. A strange book.
Such a fabulous writer, as well as a good storyteller. I think she rates really highly and I am sorry she's not better known. This was gripping! And so atmospheric.
I read this book only because it's set in Wales, not even knowing when I started that it's really a kids' book. But I still really enjoyed it and will pass it on to my granddaughter.
I think the suspense in this book was only matched by the 39 steps, or the vanishing lady. Had to stop due to heart palpitations partway through the break from the bluff. No sheep died.
Not bad for a backwoods library find. It resembled Louisa May Alcott's style, but it was not as refined. There were some interesting parts, but the book felt a bit light for me.