In terms of research, it is an extraordinary achievement. But oh dear, what poor use that research has been put to in this book.
Unless you have a burning desire to know who won which seat in which election for which party by how many votes in which year against which opposing parties, which clerics and which strains of protestant or Catholic or other religious branches were appointed to which churches, which parishes, which sees, then you will find this soulless book, drowned as it is in endless, needless statistics and obscure references to obscure people many of whose contribution to Wales past can only be describes as insignificant (all of which should be stripped out and annotated through a reference section at the end of the book) a terrible disappointment. This is not about Wales – the real Wales - or about the Welsh and why they are, and have every reason to be a proud nation.
Wales is a country which has a wonderful tale to tell, and any history of the country should make come away with an understanding of why the Welsh feel such pride at being Welsh. Yet this book makes no attempt to achieve this, more interested as it is in putting as much down on paper, every reference, every static, every name come across during the research, the aim of the book appearing to be to make sure the reader understands how much research has gone into producing the book.
He asks the question about what it means being welsh, but hit is clear that for him, it is about Welsh held authority - legislative power and authority in Welsh hands as an indication of autonomous control – and the nations buildings that reflect that authority. But that isn’t Wales. Wales is about people, not buildings or votes of influence.
That the author should insist on several occasions that Football is the major sport in Wales, not Rugby (which is given but little mention in the book, yet which is more characteristic of the heart and soul of the people of wales than much of what is written here) - shows he little he knows other than what he has read in books about his own country. He has obviously never been to Cardiff on (rugby) match day...
(I followed both avidly as a youngster - how he could make such a claim is beyond me)
Worse still, his treatment of Dylan Thomas, to whom he accords fewer words and attention than a whole raft of unheard of welsh poets from down the years, is little short of disdainful. You don’t have to like his works, or approve of his lifestyle, to appreciate how great a poet he was; Thomas did more to put Wales on the map than any other Welshman in history. Surely that is worthy of proper recognition? Not so in the eyes of Mr.Davis, it would appear.
Wales is such a wonderful country full of extraordinary people.
Such a shame that this is not reflected in this book.
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