"Do not be disturbed, Mr. Bunce", [Mr Grobe] said, "for as God is so little heeded amongst men, He is not likely to be very much missed."
"I shall miss Him", said the landlord, "very much indeed, for who are we to blame now for all the wickedness of the world?"
"We must blame ourselves", said Mr Grobe readily.

A beguiling little allegory. I'm not sure if I adore this book or not, but it's one that will remain with me. ( )

This is a very quirky book, almost 4 stars but couldn't bring myself to go quite that high, whereas I can easily commit to 3.

It's apparently an allegory, but I'm not so sure--it seems to me that it is what it is, given Mr. Weston being another name for God, and that Mr. Weston likes to speak in metaphors, but otherwise it seems to be taken at face value. God (Mr. Weston) comes to town (two of them, but the second turns out to be the important one), and eventually gets involved with the townspeople.

The townspeople are what keeps this from 4 stars-ness. They're an odd bunch, not particularly likeable, not particularly realistic. There's none of the joy of, say, Edward Scissorhands and its offbeat residents. They're all obsessed with something or other, and they seem, most of them, excessively concerned with sex (described as doings under the old oak tree). If it's an allegory, I have no hope of understanding what any of them stood for, especially Mrs Vosper or Mr. Grunter, or why anyone would think Mr. Grunter capable of all he was assumed to have done, or why anyone would think to let him if it were true.

If you enjoy oddities (The Hearing Trumpet, The Towers of Trebizon) of a certain age, and I do, this volume will have some charm, and you will be surprised it was published and has somewhat survived. But this can hardly be a race-out-and-read-at-all-costs kind of book, it just isn't compelling enough, though there are moments throughout that are beautifully written. Skillful ... and strange. ( )

This strange and unique novel has been described as an "idiosyncratic Christian allegorical fantasy", but don't let the "Christian" scare you off--I would say it is more of a pagan pastoral romp.

The novel opens as Mr. Weston, a travelling wine salesman, and his assistant Michael arrive at the village of Folly Down. They apparently have inside knowledge about each of the villagers, and in turn interact with each of the villagers. There is Reverend Grobe, the vicar who after the tragic death of his wife no longer believes in God. His daughter Tamar is waiting for an "angel" to come to town to fall in love with her. The Grobe's housemaid Jenny Bunce is in love with Luke Bird, who believes people are no longer worth preaching to, so he preaches to animals. Then there is Squire Mumby, whose two sons make a habit of ravishing the village maidens, with the assistance of the bitter Mrs. Vosper. The pub owner (and Jenny's father) Mr. Bunce blames everything that goes wrong (i.e. unintended pregnancies of village maidens) on God. Others blame these "tragedies" on meek and mild Mr.Grunter.

Over the course of an evening when time stands still, Mr. Weston and Michael visit each of these villagers as well as others, and one may conclude that as a result of their visits each individual gets his due, and the problems of Folly Down are solved.

It has been stated that T. F. Powys created his fiction out of his "life-long quarrel with God."
I have on my shelves Unclay, another T. F. Powys novel in which, apparently, the devil comes to town.

3 stars ( )

An old Ford, labelled 'Mr Weston's Good Wine' and apparently driven by a commercial traveller and his young assistant, pulls into Folly Down village in Dorset. It soon becomes apparent that the old man with 'hair as white as wool' and his beautiful and respectful colleague are divine beings.
The inhabitants of Folly Down are an assorted bunch- a vicar who has lost his faith in God since his wife was killed; his elfin daughter, left to run wild and yearning to meet an angel; the arrogant and immoral farmer's sons who enjoy deflowering pretty maidens, one of whom has committed suicide; the woman who serves as procuress for them; and the humble Mr Bird, a Dissenter who preaches to the animals and is universally scorned... but is madly in love .
Mr Weston writes his motto on the sky in shining letters. Then time stands still for an evening as he moves among the villagers, bringing his wine to those who will accept it.
I would stress that this is in no way a 'goody-goody' morality tale. The village seems very dark and pagan-and considering this was written in the 20s surprisingly outspoken on lust- and Mr Weston himself struggles with the suffering around him:
'Not a death happens in all the world but I wish it were mine own and I would have every dying one to know that I long to die with him'.
The scene at the end when Mr Weston administers good wine to the vicar is exquisitely written. And throughout Powys' familiarity with the Dorset countryside brings this world to life. ( )

A recently rediscovered novel from the 1920s that is very much of its time (although, at a pinch, it could be considered an early example of magic realism). In parts, it reads like the kind of bawdy 'country matters' stories written by H.E.Bates and A.E.Coppard. Mr Weston arrives in the small Dorset town of Folly Down to sell the inhabitants his good wine. Soon after he arrives, the clocks stop and it is eternal evening. Young women are being ravished and made pregnant. Is the culprit the church clerk, Mr Grunter or is it God?
The novel is a religious allegory but whether it's inspired by belief or dis belief in God is open to question. This novel is an interesting oddity unlike most other things I've read. Warning: the West Country dialect takes some decoding and getting used to. ( )