Orion Children’s Books
2014
I first fell in love with Dylan Thomas’ work when I heard Richard Burton recite Under Milkwood, in my English class at St George Girls’ High School circa early 1970s. (see the final video for some wonderful RB vocal deliciousness). So I was thrilled with this gift from my bestie and sister-from-another-mister Welsh friend, Ruth, quite a few Christmases ago.
It has become standard re-reading each year since then, and I glory in not only the beautiful language, but the charming illustrations by Peter Bailey. Thomas’ recollection of his childhood in the 1920s with all the attendant activities and festivities of Christmas time has been an institution since it was first written and recorded by the poet in 1952. It has been published numerous times since then and some people will remember the 1978 version illustrated by Edward Ardizzone.
All the Christmases roll down toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street…
Thomas’ memory of Christmases of his childhood in a small Welsh town is peppered with imagination and imagery, and thoroughly laced with nostalgic remembrances of whiter, deeper snow, more colourful characters and exciting entertainment. If you have never read it, or better yet, listened to the poet read it to you – [something I find hard to imagine!], do yourself a huge favour and do so this Christmas. Above, I have linked to Hachette’s page where this illustrated version is now available with a lovely new cover, of course, it would make a splendid gift as well.
It’s a world full of uncles with cigars, and aunts wearing pince-nez, snow – masses of it – cats as feral as wolves, bears and even hippopotamuses. It’s as much a small boy’s imaginative Wales is it is a glimpse into a vanished world we have lost.
The author and his friends wage war against the cats. When Mrs Prothero’s sitting-room catches fire, they throw snowballs in to put it out while they wait for the firemen. The author opens Useful presents: mufflers and mittens and scratchy woollen vests; and, much more exciting, Useless presents: tin soldiers, toffee, a catapult. He eats his Christmas dinner, takes afternoon walks through the snow (meeting imaginary hippos and St Bernard dogs), listens to ghost stories, and sings carols and traditional songs. [https://historicalnovelsociety.org/reviews/a-childs-christmas-in-wales/]
Just So Stories 
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