What a beautiful, beautiful novel this is. I am certain I shan't read a better one this year, or maybe for many a year. I am quite stingy when giving out five stars, but The Long Dry certainly deserves every praise. I have read this book in two sittings today, and I am so looking forward to reading it again to refix the richness of the symbolism in the context of what I have learned in coming to the end.
When reading The Long Dry, I was reminded of Le Grand Meaulnes, and The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, and... well, beyond those two, I can't think of another novel that matches it for warmth, love, wisdom and sadness. Maybe Jude the Obscure resonated there somewhere, but this is not a hopeless book. Hope springs again and again in every page. And the thing I loved most about it was the remarkable understanding that Jones holds, especially towards Gareth, who will, I think, forever reside in my imagination as someone I'd like to know. Someone I feel close to in spirit. Hemingway often comes close to uncovering what it feels like to be a man. Few writers actually explore masculinity, and Hemingway only comes close in creating male characters of a certain type. Cynan Jones, though, for me, expertly anatomises every corner of what a man, a husband, a father experiences set resolutely against his post-fall epoch.
The best of it is that this novel has come to me quite out of the blue. As a teacher, I was looking to put together some Welsh literature for my A2 class. The RS Thomas and Rhys Davies were already in the bag, but the demands of the examination board meant that I needed a contemporary work. I wasn't, I have to say, expecting much, being rightly sceptical about much of the stuff that gets published at the moment. I certainly wasn't expecting this treasure of a story. I feel I shall teach this text for the rest of my career.