*I received an ARC via Netgalley in exchange for an honest review. Thanks for the free book.*

I spent all my childhood summers in Cornwall and found Colquhoun's approach to Cornwall fascinating. I knew many of the places she talked about but would love to revisit some with her accounts in my head. Despite its age "The Living Stones" can be easily read and the quiet lyricism in some descriptions was quite wonderful too.

Earlier this year I enjoyed reading Ithell Colquhoun’s The Crying of the Wind, an account of the author’s travels around Ireland, so I decided to read her other travel book, The Living Stones, published two years later in 1957. This one is inspired by her visits to Cornwall in the late 1940s, where she came in search of escape from post-war London. As an artist, she wanted a suitable property to use as an occasional refuge where she could paint in peace and in 1949 she purchased Vow Cave, a small wooden studio with very basic living facilities.

Vow Cave (Colquhoun tells us that Vow is derived from vugha, the Cornish word for cave) is in the village of Lamorna on the Penwith peninsula a few miles from Penzance. Although she writes about the landscape, the surrounding countryside and some local places of interest, this book isn’t really a travelogue in the same sense as The Crying of the Wind, where the author described trips and excursions to different areas of Ireland. Instead, she explores the culture and history of Cornwall in general, with chapters devoted to separate topics, giving it almost the feel of a collection of short essays.

Lots of Cornish customs and rituals are discussed, ranging from the Gorsedh of Cornwall, or gathering of the bards, and the ‘Obby ‘Oss (hobby horse) festival in Padstow to the Furry Day celebrations which mark the arrival of spring (the name likely has nothing to do with fur and comes from the Cornish word for ‘fair’ or ‘feast’). There’s a chapter on traditional Cornish foods such as potato cakes, Cornish cream and the Cornish pasty, and another on folk medicine and witchcraft – Colquhoun has a particular interest in the occult. Some sections are fascinating, although there were others where I found my attention wandering.

Both books I’ve read by this author feel random and meandering, lacking in focus. I found that the best way to read them was in small doses, a few short chapters at a time alternating with other books, rather than straight through from beginning to end. As a pair, they’re definitely worth reading if you have any interest in Ireland or Cornwall, and I did learn a lot from them. Colquhoun has also written a novel, Goose of Hermogenes, which sounds intriguing!

Wonderful to read this at the same time as the Colquhoun show Between Worlds is on at the Tate Britain. Her way with words equals her visionary art combining the lore of the West Country with the mysticism of Eastern wisdom traditions using subtlety and nuance. Her connection with India as a baby is of great interest to me as a descendant of Indian indentured labourers and it is exactly this subtlety and nuance that takes us beyond country boundaries and into the ineffable, the spirit realms where we are all one and the same.

An inspirational and personal travelogue
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Like the best travelogues, the author comes through indelibly in this strongly flavoured account. Very much a product of her times, Colquhoun was an aesthete and a polymath, not entirely liberated but definitely not inhibited. This book is equal parts Colquhoun’s memoir of a familiar part of Cornwall to a love letter to the landscape itself, the people there and the myths and stories that permeate to the stones themselves, as the title suggests. Richly evocative language draws the reader in to Colquhoun’s world, a wistful, yearning world that seeks but doesn’t quite know what for. It feels almost timeless, certainly not of today, and most of all a portal to a world that has always been and always will be unknowable. A book to savour and perhaps to inspire a trip to the wildest part of England.

Four and a half stars

My stubborn trailing of Pushkin's push through this author's output of major books published in her lifetime takes us both to Cornwall, and the travelogue (of sorts) she created about the place. It's basically mini-essays, of roughly ten pages, taking us through her time there in something like some kind of chronological order. There are chapters on the birds, the flowers, the ghosts of the place – and the Gorsedd, a passing on of appreciation for people doing things the Cornish way that is still going strong today.

Throughout she finds the esoteric landscape, all ley lines, stone rings and key hills, matches her outlook on life, with a similar old-fashioned (sorry, atavistic) vocab. One page alone has her mention a fylfot, decussations, and haruspex – none of which I've ever played at Scrabble, to say the least. This is high-falutin' stuff, and not for the average reader, but it is more amenable than her novel. I see Stewart Lee appreciated it – well, he would, wouldn't he, is all I say to that. Me? I didn't mind my time with these pages, but they wouldn't really be something I'd deem memorable. And the subject of many of her artworks evades me completely.

2.5 stars rounded up.
I'm not quite sure what to make of this book, whether to call it a memoir, a collection of essays on Cornwall's history and culture, or a travel guide. I had a hard time getting into this one as I felt pulled in too many directions. Some descriptions were lovely and vivid, other times they continued on for so long that it was hard to follow.

a whimsical book that is part history of hauntings, travellouge and history of a time past. Ithell Colquhoun was a surealist artist in mid century Britain. Definetely not a normal memoir but enjoyable. the writing is archaic and a bit meandering at times. i belive this would be enjoyed more by someonce with an interest with the occult. i found this too be not my taste, completely with some chapters being very interesting and some that just dragged.

Colquhoun finds herself in Cornwall, in a shed with no running water or electricity and sets up her studio. On the many walks she takes around her property and a cross the region, Colquhoun finds herself immersed, curious, and in awe about the regions landscape and folklore. The result is a captivating blend of travel writing, mythology, and esoteric observation uncovering layers of spiritual and symbolic meanings in everything from stones to sea caves.

Richly descriptive, poetic, and infused with surrealism. She draws connections between the prehistoric monuments, local legends, and arcane symbolism, making the landscape feel alive with a mysterious purpose to serve those who seek.

Her strong background in arts and occult magic shapes her interpretations giving the reader an atmospheric and chilling read of Cornwall’s mystical identity.

Though the author meanders in this book — the dreamlike quality — it is enough to surrender to the obvious rhythm in the book.

Haunting, a first for a book about landscapes, the book is rewarding.

I enjoyed this literary foray into Cornwall, and particularly the landscape and ancient stones of the area. I learned an awful lot about Cornish history, Cornish folklore and legends, and myths. The writing was literary but still accessible, with some truly beautiful sections. It was a restful, ruminative read, perfect for our frantic and frightening times.

I read Ithell Colquhoun’s The Living Stones whilst on a break in Cornwall. I really enjoyed the book as I love Cornwall, its landscapes, its history and folklore. The introduction by Ed Parnell also provided interesting background about the author, her work as an artist and her deep connection with West Penwith. I would highly recommend it.

An idiosyncratic voyage around Cornwall, its people and its folklore and traditions. This is fascinating

An intriguing and esoteric travelogue which talks about the various occult and magical aspects of the Cornish countryside. It still retains Colquhoun's distinct writing style seen in 'Goose of Hermogenes' but feels less disjointed and easier to access than her alchemical writing seen in this, which does 'The Living Stones' a service.

However, like many collections of vignettes or short stories the quality from chapter to chapter varies greatly. Some are thought provoking musings on what is black magic and what does our definition of it say about society and ourselves. While others are a drawn out analysis of etymologies of saints' names that, while highly interesting, feels like a distinct lull in comparison to other chapters of the book.