SPIRIT OF YOUTH By Ll. Wyn Griffith To the average
Englishman, whO has a smattering of French and Italian culture and who knows at any rate the name of one Portuguese poet, Wales is more foreign than " a desert in Bohemia "—and less interesting. Leeks, an angular harp at concerts, rugby at Twickenham, singing festivals, the highest mountain, the fallible wizard of politics—this much only we associate with Wales. Otherwise we know as little about the country as about those unevocative names—Jones, Evans and Davis. Nor does Spirit of Youth, by LI. Wyn Griffith (Constable, Ss. 6d.) make one ashamed of one's ignorance. Wales as it appears in a boy's recollections does seem to have been a dreary primitive place. This, of course, is not a direct criticism of Mr. Griffith's book but simply a regret that a person of real sensibility with a direct unmannered style should not have a more catholic and interesting back- ground for his recollections. Spring of Youth is slight, but it was not meant to be anything else. Where Mr. Griffith writes about himself he is good ; there is perception and sensibility. His feelings as he walks along a wall in Wales or overtakes an injured quarryman remain in one's mind. Too often, however, as the " blurb " tells us, he " gives us a picture of the environment which helps to bring about the subtle difference between the English and the Welsh."
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