It’s sometimes said that prose gift wraps reality and so it does in Huw’s Clyro Diaries, in the sense that his lyrical and very closely observed descriptions, full of feelings and emotions, cut straight to the essence of things. He also has a gift for making the commonplace and everyday seem special, and as such Huw’s record of his life, and those of others around him, makes a great read. He is a worthy successor to Francis Kilvert, Clyro’s more famous diarist, and if I had to choose between the two of them I’d read Huw’s diaries any-day. And, though Kilvert tried his hand at writing verse, Huw is streets ahead of him in terms of rhythm, originality, significance and charm. An example of this are the opening lines of his poem about Worcester, where he writes, ‘Ever seaward slides the Severn – full line and length this river rolls, Past the county’s first eleven and half-a-million other souls. And by this shining river wide the old cathedral stands full square – Sunlit hulk of pinnacled pride and bastion of quiet prayer.’
June Hill, writer and critic.