There is something truly marvellous about Deborah Kay Davies’ writing, although I don’t know what about it makes it so. Something rather abstract, delicate. But, unfortunately, the skill demonstrated in the prose does not the negate the failings in the plot. Tirzah and the Prince of Crows’ protagonist is torn between two extremes: life spent in a chastity belt, locked away from the world and shamed for anything that the older men in her life perceive to be sinful; or, a sexual awakening that feels a bloody lot like assault and harassment. You can call it naivety, or internalised shame regarding her own body, or whatever you so wish, but the scenes that were supposed to form that “awakening”? Oh, dear god, no. She is repeatedly touched and kissed without her consent, by the all three of her love interests (the ‘good’ guy, the ‘bad’ guy and the indifferent stranger from afar) and because she feels aroused/“a stab of lust” in relation to them, it is written-off simply as her not fully grasping the wants of her own body. But, what about the wants of her own mind? Although, in 2019, the current climate suggests that the two options that the protagonist is grasping with are the only two, we should all be well-aware by now that this is far from actuality and seeing this madonna-whore dichotomy play out throughout this narrative, really drove me up the wall.

Deborah Kay Davies has created something quite beautiful with Tirzah and the Prince of Crows. Tirzah is a teenager in the Welsh Valleys of the 1970s, studying for her exams and increasingly doubtful of the strict religion and patriarchy of her community. She swings constantly between wanting to please those she loves, to be deemed “good” and her distance from her parents’ world. When she meets the rootless, volatile Brân she recognises her own isolation. His strangeness, half-mad and half-mystical, both fascinate and repel her. Tirzah is haunted by the half-wild boy, which ultimately change her life forever.

Davies is equally skilled at building her characters and her world, each lovingly and convincingly crafted. Each member of Tirzah’s family and community is fully realised in all their faith and love and weakness, I felt the truth of every decision and action even when I hated them and couldn’t sympathise. That’s quite a feat.

There’s also an extraordinary sense of place and time in the story as Davies’ lyrical, poetic descriptions evoke the landscape of Tirzah’s Wales in all its changeable glory. The way that mythology saturates the prose intensifies the otherworldly nature of these landscapes, highlighting the mystical elements of Tirzah’s encounters with Brân. In this it is strongly reminiscent of Alan Garner’s wonderful The Owl Service.

It’s a heartbreaking story about the struggle between conformity and independence, especially where the will to conform comes from those you love. It sheds a light on the courage it takes to break away from the familiar and to define your own freedom.

Maybe because it's set in Wales and is a coming of age tale this book reminded me of Amongst Others by Jo Walton, and is as pleasant as that one. An atmospheric, well written story with perfect use of Welsh mythology, I felt like there is loads more to explore about Welsh culture and history during reading this book.
A slow read but I would definitely recommend.

Tirzah and the Prince of Crows is a coming of age story set in 1970's Wales. The Tirzah of the title is a teenage girl growing up in a conservative family, who are involved in a fundamentalist style church. As she begins to rebel against her family and their faith, and starts to see how unfairly women in particular are being treated, she finds herself drawn to Bran, an almost feral youth , living in the forest nearby. When she becomes pregnant, it sparks a schism in the church but brings her fracturing family closer together,
A beautifully written , strange and yet compelling book, and one I enjoyed despite its slow pace and meandering style.
I read and reviewed an ARC courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher, all opinions are my own.

What a wonderful story. Beautifully crafted and provocative. Davies has raw talent and I can't wait to read more by her.

I found this a little strange if I'm honest. Beautifully written in many ways but the use of language and the conversations and colloquial discussions was a bit strange and tricky to read at times. I felt myself being jolted from the text in many ways and it was hard to read with the constant 'interruptions' of the religious passages or mentions of them ( Jeremiah 4:1) etc

Having said that - The strong imagery of Welsh legends did captivate me. The author has clearly explored the use of welsh mythology and she captivates and illustrates Bendigeidran - a king - via the character of Bran. There is so much imagery of this King, this God of Ravens that the whole novel takes on a magical and fairytale tone.

The Welsh Valleys remain vague and remote but luscious in colour and texture.