4 thoughts on “Cloud Farming in Wales – Rhys Hughes

  1. I am about to start real-time reviewing this new book by Rhys Hughes, of whose work I am arguably the biggest fan, and synchronously by preternatural means I shall be reviewing it alongside THE PARIS NOTEBOOKS by Quentin S. Crisp HERE, published by the same publisher and received by me in the same parcel … and according to his Facebook, Rhys Hughes is currently taking a short trip to Paris ten years after Crisp’s….

  2. IMG_3429Pages 7 – 17

    A delightful theme and variations, so far, on Wales, its legendary rain, its clouds and its sheep. I would say it’s absurdist, too, but I am half Welsh and I know better than those who are not Welsh at all. I am confident that it will not welsh you, but that’s your loss, if so. Clouding as a form of fantastical deception, shelter as a choice of being pissed on or simply drenched by God. Not much to choose between a sheep’s nethers or a sky’s clouds “colluding to ensure I become saturated.” To make me who and what I am.
    (Photo taken this evening where I currently live, but everywhere is Wales my father said.)

  3. Pages 18 – 36

    “, that cloud farmers never stooped so low.”

    Fictionatronic patchwork of conceits, like a piece of modern classical music flowing along a transparent pipework of irrigable Welsh rain crossing-continents with rictus faces staring out at you dead or alive, one of them reading this book, all stemming from a character and his author each eschewing a job as a writer as that would make this work too precious, too pretentious. They’d likely choose to be cloud farmers instead…
    And there is much else, including Oxford commas and fat people on buses. I laughed out loud like a drain.

  4. Pages 37 – 43

    “We all our bears to cross. This one straddled a river when it fell asleep.”

    Which is rather apt when you take into account that I finished reviewing BORNE by Jeff VanderMeer here just about an hour or so ago. I think I will matchmake these two books for eventual marriage, just as this book dates dates themselves so that single days cannot be accumulated into Welsh rainfall figures if they become married days. Here through a wormhole the dates can be centuries apart.
    Rainfall in Wales is exaggerated? Maybe, but my passions of the moment are heartfelt, such as my enjoyment of this book so far. A novel of concepts not people, although characters owning such concepts are at least inferred. An ideafic.
    The most important concept of all time happens to have already been conceived in this book: “an exaggeration often gets to the core of an experience more effectively and honestly than a statement of truth.”

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