The People's History
Forget "Downton Abbey", "Brigerton" and "The Crown": the history that matters was made by ordinary people.
Am I alone in finding it strange that so much twenty first century historical fiction centres on the 'big house' and the affairs of the aristocracy, when the struggles of their tenants and labourers are ignored? We admire Dickens and a few others who highlighted those struggles when they were contemporary for the Victorians but seem oblivious to the reality of the suffering inflicted on the majority of our ancestors by the industrial revolution, or the struggles they underwent in pursuit of decent living conditions and the right to vote.
One author has set out, through several outstanding novels, to redress this balance. I published an interview with her here. This is my review of her current release.
Much of Bryn's oeuvre is based on her own family history. Her latest, Give Us This Day, is centred on the events of 1831 in South Wales.
The setting, the hills and valleys around Merthyr Tydfil, is well realised, especially the contrast between the unspoilt high tops and the grime of the valleys desecrated by mining and iron working as the industrial revolution took hold.
The book opens with scenes which set the historical context: the history of mining and iron making in South Wales, the exploitation of labour through the truck system which restricted the ability of workers to spend their earnings other than in company sponsored businesses.
Also clearly evident is the importance of religion, especially Methodism, with the central character a newly appointed minister. His relationship with his wife, a midwife, and their children is established early on, as is the hardship experienced by members of his flock. The seething anger of the workers prepares us for the events that reached a climax in the summer of 1831. These events have been well researched and skilfully retold with the minister taking on the role of mediator, enabling the fears and prejudices of both sides to be thoroughly explored.
The real people who were prime movers on the side of the rebels, and the industrialists and politicians they opposed, are presented as fully rounded characters with flaws as well as strong ethical motivations.
Central to the story is a Romeo and Juliet style romance between two teenagers, one the minister's daughter, the other a loveable rogue whose impetuous behaviour early in the book is the source of a life changing tragedy.
What takes place between these lovers echoes the central themes that fans of this author have come to expect and to love. If, at times, this makes the twists and turns of the relationship seem predictable, so be it. It provides many beautifully realised scenes that are by turns, tragic, comic and heart-warming. Some, especially those towards the end, recall the latter part of Revenge, when an innocent man awaits the verdict of a biased jury, or For Their Country's Good, when a young man sentenced to transportation is imprisoned in a hulk awaiting the arrival of the ship which will take him to New South Wales.
The real characters, which include the founder of what would become one of the UK's best known and most successful engineering companies, still extant today, are portrayed in a manner that is consistent with what is generally accepted about them and their roles in the Industrial Revolution, more specifically, the 1831 Merthyr Rising.
The fictional Evan Rees, the Methodist minister, and his family are well drawn. As events evolve, in his personal life and on the political scene, his faith is severely challenged.
He leans heavily on the support of his wife, Elen. The latter, although plainly another of this author's strong female characters, spends much of the novel in the background, yet her influence, not only on her husband and children but within the community, shows us much more of her importance than we need to be told explicitly - surely the sign of a confident writer.
The daughter, old beyond her years as most children had to be in such times, is equally well drawn. At her mother's side, learning the craft of midwifery, yet self-willed and determined to carry on her relationship with the troubled youth against her father's orders.
[Note for readers who may be offended by what could seem like underage sex: the concept of 'age of consent' did not exist in UK before 1875 when it was set at 13]
The youth, Sam Davey, is a petty criminal who justifies his behaviour as being necessary to support his mother. Initially this is because his alcoholic and abusive father cannot. Later because his mother is widowed. His forbidden love for the minister's daughter adds to his problems but he is shown to rise above them as he becomes ever more deeply involved in the rebel cause.
The events of the summer of 1831 and the execution of Dic Penderyn for a crime he did not commit are celebrated in Merthyr with an annual festival. Elsewhere in the UK there is little awareness or understanding of the Merthyr Rising, which certainly rivals the Peterloo Massacre for the brutality of the official reaction to it, and its relevance to the fight for workers' rights, the history of Trade Unionism and the Labour Party.
This summer a biography of Dic Penderyn, a play at the Edinburgh Festival and a petition demanding a posthumous pardon have sought to change that.
This novel, another Rebecca Bryn masterpiece, is an important contribution to our understanding of the struggles and sacrifices made by ordinary folk that gained for us the rights we all too easily take for granted.
The sequel, I believe, is already underway. I can't wait for an opportunity to read it.
A very thorough review, Fran, which whetted my appetite.