The TV movie version of A Child's Christmas in Wales from the 80s is one of my all-time favorite Christmas films, and that was how I first knew of this story. It wasn't until later that I ever actually read the short story it was based on, so the "correct" interpretation of the text in my mind will always be Denholm Elliot's performance of it in that movie (it's not verbatim or complete there, but you get a lot of it). So hearing Thomas perform it is always a little wrong-footing, even if still wonderful in its own way. The text itself is a delightful, sometimes slightly dark, detail-rich prose poem about Christmas in Wales in the early 20th century. I can't recommend it highly enough. ( )

Every Christmas Eve we gather to listen to this CD, and then I insist we also listen to Fern Hill. I weep at the uncles part, but it's that warm nostalgic lovely weeping, and then Fern Hill breaks my heart (though I sang in my chains like the sea) and then we sleep.

Thomas' voice is singular, the words are immaculate, the spell the two cast together is something unimaginable and otherworldly yet wholly human.

Recommended more than I can say. ( )

I acquired this audiobook earlier this year, after seeing an excellent stage production of [b:Under Milk Wood|763508|Under Milk Wood|Dylan Thomas|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1347670819s/763508.jpg|243711], which I reviewed here. I've saved it up to listen to at Christmas time. Recorded in 1952, Dylan Thomas narrates his memoir of a childhood Christmas in Swansea in South Wales, as well as five of his poems, including the one with which I am most familiar, Do not go gentle into that good night.

A Child's Christmas in Wales is a beautiful, gentle and humorous story of the elements of a Christmas day from long ago, seen from a child's perspective: the snow, the gifts, the food, the relatives, the friends, and indeed the town itself. Thomas narrates it with tenderness and warmth and the prose is infused with the lyrical quality of his poetry. As I listened, a snowy day in Swansea was conjured up for me by Thomas’ words, even though the childhood Christmases to which my memory turns are filled with sunshine, sand, the sound of waves and the smell of pine trees.

While I very much enjoyed listening to Thomas read his memoir, I enjoyed listening to his poetry somewhat less. That wasn’t because of the quality of the poems, but because Thomas favoured a rather declamatory style of poetry recital which doesn’t really appeal to me. I would have preferred a more understated verbal style, but as Thomas wrote the poems, I guess he could recite them as he thought fit.

While I may skip listening to the poems in future and just read them instead, A Child’s Christmas in Wales will probably become a Christmas listening tradition.
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Reminiscence as prosey-poetry, poetic-prose aching to leap aloud from the mouth like wee warbling birds. Source of one of the greatest lines beloved by readers everywhere : "She looked at the three tall firemen in their shining helmets, standing among the smoke and cinders and dissolving snowballs, and she said, "Would you like anything to read?" ( )

Every year I promise myself I'm going to read Dylan THomas' famous work for Christmas, and then can never find my copy or get one from the library. This year, I managed to snag an audio, and it was perfect. Dylan Thomas' beautiful voice and exquisite verbal writing washed over me. I had to listen to it twice, and know that this will become an annual event....the picture of a small village in Wales, the feel of the wind, the smell of the sea, all came together to mesmerize me into a true feeling of holiday cheer. A classic. ( )