Reviews for Penguin Passnotes : Under Milk Wood

The average rating for Penguin Passnotes : Under Milk Wood based on 2 reviews is 5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2008-06-30 00:00:00 Jack Lori Some works of literature just beg to be read out loud - This is the House that Jack Built and Hiawatha are two that most people are familiar with. Under Milk Wood too, is better appreciated read aloud. Try it for yourself. A sample (read aloud with Welsh accent, sing-song, go up like a question at the end of the line, extend vowels, as in 'weeedkiller' and emphasis is usually on the first syllable.) FIRST VOICE Mr Pugh, in the School House opposite, takes up the morning tea to Mrs Pugh, and whispers on the stairs MR. PUGH Here's your arsenic, dear. And your weedkiller biscuit. I've throttled your parakeet. I've spat in the vases. I've put cheese in the mouseholes. Here's your... [_Door creaks open_ ...nice tea, dear. MRS PUGH Too much sugar. Or try this, read by Richard Burton, who was also from the same area so has exactly the right intonation. full cast production of Under Milk Wood If you would like to listen to a young Richard Burton reading the play alone (which I much prefer), it is in two parts, part one and part two. When I read this play by Dylan Thomas, I hear the village life of my childhood come to life. He caught the lilt and cadence of the Valleys speech and the trivial preoccupations of the people perfectly. Of course it helps that like Dylan Thomas I am also from South Wales and have the accent down pat! A little known fact, apparent to all Welsh people but no-one else, is that the village of Llareggub which looks perfectly Welsh is actually the English Bugger All backwards. (If it had been Welsh it would have been Llanreggub and mean the Parish of St. Reggub). Dylan Thomas wasn't at all poetic, his poems are just as much for people who don't like poetry as those who like reading it and contemplating what the poet meant by his imagery. There is not such issue with Dylan Thomas, he says what he means and you get it straightaway. If you enjoyed the play, read Dylan Thomas's magnificent [book:Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night|6619539]. Considerably rewritten 18 October on being told the link to Under Milk Wood no longer worked.

Review # 2 was written on 2014-02-20 00:00:00 Chris Nordness We are not wholly bad or good, who live our lives under Milk Wood. The voices of Dylan Thomas� Under Milk Wood rise and fall, crashing into each other like waves under a milky moon, their sweet prose an effervescence of sounds and syllables to intoxicate the soul. This �play for voices� follows the lives of the citizens of Milk Wood across a full day, bookmarked by the surrealistically sensational dream sequences of the two nights. The play simply engulfs you in its beautiful embrace, like the warm encompassing feeling of sleep overtaking you under the coziest of blankets with the redolence of summer majesty breezing through an open window. Under Milk Wood offers a unique voyeuristic vantage-point for the reader�or listener�as they see all the hopes and dreams swimming in the hearts of these simple folks and watch them interact with one another. From dark and somber to hilarious and cynical, the spectrum of emotions and existence swings and sways to the vocal rhythm of Thomas� sharp pen and wit. There is the aging sea captain haunted in dreams by pallid corpses speaking from their watery grave, the wife intent on poisoning her husband, the innocent cruelty of children, the lust of the village strumpet and the condescending remarks of those around her; all walks of life exist in the boundaries of this quiet village that could be any village. It satisfied my thirst for something similar to Woolf�s masterpiece The Waves and filled me with joy during the brief sitting it takes to read this play. Charged by the power of Thomas� prose, sharpened over a distinguished career as a masterful poet, and alive with the madness and love of life, this �play for voices� is an entertaining and exquisite event to read or listen to. 4.5/5 The only sea I saw Was the seesaw sea With you riding on it. Lie down, lie easy. Let me shipwreck in your thighs.