Whether I am permitted to or not, I love the world which Melissa Harrison evokes, for all its inevitable shortcomings. The fusing of ancient natural cycles and farming techniques with powerfully descriptive prose and rich characterisation feels luxuriant on the page .

As Wendell Berry has said in his poetry, the entire language of traditional farming began to disappear with mechanization.Yes, the 1930s setting was a big part of the draw for for me – that and Melissa Harrison’s writing which is just so evocative and beautifully judged. At first, Ada Mather is suspicious of this stranger; however, she is soon won over by Constance’s willingness to listen and to modify her behaviour. From the empty pews at the church to the tools left idle in barns to the poorly stacked ricks due to a lack of skilled men, these silent absences are deeply felt. I’m hoping this piece will qualify for Karen and Lizzy’s Reading Independent Publishers Month, which you can read about here. All Among the Barley illustrates how the past can be interpreted in many different ways and highlights the dangers of nostalgia when a city dweller, Connie, makes a visit to Edie's village during harvest time in 1933.

For a novel so gentle and with plots and sub-plots which build slowly, it comes as a real and sudden punch in the gut. A preoccupied, bookish girl at heart, Edie is something of a loner, one who prefer books to the company of other children.There are perhaps too many themes struggling for deeper treatment in this book: the clash between Edie’s bright intelligence and her family’s need for her on the struggling farm, the oppressive sexual relationship she falls into with a neighbour which raises issues of abuse/non-consent and sexual complicity, the vein of ‘madness’ that emerges and its treatment in the 1930s. While Connie may be keen to celebrate tradition, those around Edie are aware of the need for adaption and for balancing progress against tradition.

Although this novel is set just before WW2 I was transported back to the very early 1960s when as a 7yr old girl I lived in a village and walked with my little brother to school through the fields and orchard. I loved the language of the country folk, grizzle, ted, stoachy, haysel, churr and the birds, landrails, dorhawks, throstles and spinks. I recoiled from it at first and wished that it might have wrapped up differently or at least, at a more measured pace.

There was a hay barn where I climbed on the spikey, rectangular bales and sat on the top, looking out over the back garden and the farmhouse watching the sun go down. Connie’s character is well drawn and her likeability maintained, despite the fact that, evidently, her mindset is one for which the author herself has very little time. But at the same time one subject to uncertainty and the need to continually adapt to change – at this time, for example a farming community adapting to the decimation of a generation of male workers as well, to increased mechanisation, to changing farm tariffs, and to a changing political backdrop. Farming practices, wildlife and nature create a strong, vibrant picture in 'All Among the Barley' which really immersed me as a reader. You can change your choices at any time by visiting Cookie preferences, as described in the Cookie notice.