Rarely have I found myself so moved by a literary character. Edie, our absorbing and magnificently tragic narrator, is nothing short of beautiful in thought and action alike. The way she moved through her world--an England rolling through another era's autumn, where the flaws of folk lay themselves bare as a shorn field--was at once removed from it, and yet deeply, inseparably within its very core. Through her we saw the tense color change of the imminent harvest, smelled the dew layered crisp of a morning, and felt the whole of creation spin about her grief and anger and great love. There was not a single moment that I felt she was anything less than alive, and vibrant, and yearning for understanding from anyone at all; and there wasn't a page gone by where I didn't wish to be in the story myself and tell her it, and she, would be all right.

To me, that's the mark of a damn good story. One that will stay in my mind for a long time yet, and will doubtless resurface when I sit by a river and listen to the reeds in a summer air.

Loved the setting and the characters. Such an atmospheric read. *However* I thought the ending was a bit of a cop out.

Wow what a ride. The first part of the book is a little slow setting the scene for rural 1930s life. Half way through it picks up the pace with a few twists and turns a great ending. I don't want to give anything away but this book is unpredictable and will leave you exclaiming..that was a great book!

This book is intriguing as it starts off as one thing and finishes as quite another. At first I thought it was a cosy portrait of 1930s British rural life, perhaps with a bit of a coming-of-age yarn thrown in. However, once you are lulled by the chirping hedgerows and the thrum of the thresher it all starts to go a bit bananas (in a good way.) The way nationalism and facism and patriotism can all become tangled together in times of economic strife is unfolded masterfully, and in a timely manner for these Brexit riven times. Concepts like a veneration for "The Old Ways" in the face of progress and modernisation, and a fear of community change caused by 'outsiders with different ways' (Jews) are germinated under the heat of economic downturn and frustrated masculinity (sound familiar?!) Thrown in is a little witchcraft, lesbianism, rape and madness...because, why not?

Thoroughly enjoyed. Some lovely writing. Perhaps too many themes pulled in at the end.

All Among the Barley started rather heavy-handedly with the 1930s farming research that Harrison has clearly thoroughly done, but once I settled into that and the slow quiet story, I came to love it. She brings the time and the location so vividly to life with wonderful descriptions of nature, that the fact that everything seemed to happen in the final quarter of the novel didn't matter.

All Among the Barley is an ode to rural British country life which depicts not only the beauty of farmlands but the hardships and struggles of the old forgotten ways of living.

A book I will certainly read again. The writing is evocative and seasonal, building to harvest time. Set in 1933, there are parallels with many of today's political issues and social crises as people bemoan the loss of traditional ways -- however, it's those whose ways are supposedly lost, the farmers in this story, who know the truth, that 'ways' have always changed. The witchcraft element of the story is fascinating, contributing to the theme of continuity and change. Even now, girls/women who don't conform and comply with men' wishes are demonised and punished.