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Summer: Vintage Minis
How do you remember the summers of your childhood? For Laurie Lee they were flower-crested, heady, endless days. Here is an evocation of summer like no other � a remote valley filled with the scent of hay, jazzing wasps, blackberries plucked and gobbled, and games played until the last drop of dusk. Lee’s joyful and stirring writing captures the very essence of England’s golden season.
Selected from the book Cider with Rosie by Laurie Lee
VINTAGE MINIS: GREAT MINDS. BIG IDEAS. LITTLE BOOKS.
A series of short books by the world’s greatest writers on the experiences that make us human
For the full list of books visit vintageminis.co.uk
Also in the Vintage Minis series:
Liberty by Virginia Woolf
Eating by Nigella Lawson
Swimming by Roger Deakin
Drinking by John Cheever
Selected from the book Cider with Rosie by Laurie Lee
VINTAGE MINIS: GREAT MINDS. BIG IDEAS. LITTLE BOOKS.
A series of short books by the world’s greatest writers on the experiences that make us human
For the full list of books visit vintageminis.co.uk
Also in the Vintage Minis series:
Liberty by Virginia Woolf
Eating by Nigella Lawson
Swimming by Roger Deakin
Drinking by John Cheever
- GenresClassicsMemoirNonfiction
96 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published June 8, 2017
7 people are currently reading
247 people want to read
About the author
Laurie Lee
71books256followersLaurence Edward Alan "Laurie" Lee, MBE, was an English poet, novelist, and screenwriter. His most famous work was an autobiographical trilogy which consisted of Cider with Rosie (1959), As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning (1969) and A Moment of War (1991). While the first volume famously recounts his childhood in the idyllic Slad Valley, the second deals with his leaving home for London and his first visit to Spain in 1934, and the third with his return in December 1937 to join the Republican International Brigade.
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Displaying 1 - 27 of 27 reviews
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November 22, 2020I'm reviewing this purely to pour scorn on it. Though, understandably nice for a taster into a writer, these books are simply extracts taken from actual books and sold at £3.50. This contains snippets from Laurie Lee's Cider with Rosie; you are paying for nothing new or unseen, simply another book hammed in and renamed. The worst in the series is the "Psychedelics" by Huxley, which is simply his Doors of Perception essay renamed.
If you have read anything by the writer of the book, check what the book really is before purchasing, chances are you've already read everything it has to offer.
If you have read anything by the writer of the book, check what the book really is before purchasing, chances are you've already read everything it has to offer.
September 19, 2017
This mini booklet is a collection of passages from the novel Cider with Rosie (the author's memories of childhood and country life) and is exclusively dedicated to summer. Descriptions of the nature (which are extremely picturesque, lush and enticing) and chronology of events are arranged so, that they can be read as a short story. It is a story without a story, about everything and nothing. Beautiful, charming ode to summer.
January 5, 2022
2,5 ⭐️é um livro de rememoração autobiográfica da infância. acredito que se eu fosse inglesa me identificaria e simpatizaria mais com as experiências narradas, sem contar que entenderia melhor todas as expressões antigas usadas🤡 bonito, mas não me pegou muito por esses dois aspectos
May 26, 2018
Somehow this "mini books" format just doesn't work for me at all.
March 26, 2020
ابتدا تنها فکر کردم که چقدر این کلمات را میخواهم و دوستشان دارم، بعد خیال کردم که اینها در کنارمند،بعد دیدم که چیزی شبیه به عطر نعنای وحشی و شبدر خیالی درونم خزید، و سپس تمام این ها من بودم.خودم.خودِ خودم.
June 19, 2017
Summer presents a series of extracts from Laurie Lee's Cider with Rosie, arranging them around the theme of summertime. It was the perfect choice to read whilst basking in the garden on a hot June afternoon. Just lovely.
April 28, 2024
Τhe haunting�
‘’Radiating from that house, with its crumbling walls, its thumps and shadows, its fancied foxes under the floor, I moved along paths that lengthened inch by inch with my mounting strength of days. From stone to stone in the trackless yard I sent forth my acorn shell of senses, moving through unfathomable oceans like a South Sea savage island-hopping across the Pacific. Antennae of eyes and nose and grubbing fingers captured a new tuft of grass, a new fern, a slug, the skull of a bird, a grotto of bright snails. Through the long summer ages of those first few days I enlarged my world and mapped it in my mind, its secure havens, its dust � deserts and puddles, its peaks of dirt and flag-flying bushes. Returning too, dry-throated, over and over again, to its several well-prodded horrors: the bird’s gaping bones in its cage of old sticks; the black flies in the corner, slimy dead; dry rags of snakes; and the crowded, rotting, silent-roaring city of a cat’s grub- captured carcass.’�
‘’What dread power one’s penny purchased � the painted gallows, the nodding priest, the felon with his face of doom. At a touch, they jerked through their ghastly dance, the priest, hangman, and the convict, joined together by rods and each one condemned as it were to perpetual torment. Their ritual motions led to the jerk of the corpse; the figures froze and the lights went out. Another penny restored the lights, brought back life to the cataleptic trip, and dragged the poor felon once more to the gallows to be strangled all over again.’�
And the serene�
‘’Summer, June summer, with the green back on earth and the whole world unlocked and seething � like winter, it came suddenly and one knew it in bed, almost before waking up; with cuckoos and pigeons hollowing the woods since day � light and the chipping of tits in the pear-blossom.’�
‘’Outdoors, one scarcely knew what had happened or remembered any other time. There had never been rain, or frost, or cloud; it had always been like this. The heat from the ground climbed up one’s legs and smote one under the chin. the garden, dizzy with scent and bees, burned all over with hot white flowers, each one so blinding an incandescence that it hurt the eyes to look at them.’�
‘’Radiating from that house, with its crumbling walls, its thumps and shadows, its fancied foxes under the floor, I moved along paths that lengthened inch by inch with my mounting strength of days. From stone to stone in the trackless yard I sent forth my acorn shell of senses, moving through unfathomable oceans like a South Sea savage island-hopping across the Pacific. Antennae of eyes and nose and grubbing fingers captured a new tuft of grass, a new fern, a slug, the skull of a bird, a grotto of bright snails. Through the long summer ages of those first few days I enlarged my world and mapped it in my mind, its secure havens, its dust � deserts and puddles, its peaks of dirt and flag-flying bushes. Returning too, dry-throated, over and over again, to its several well-prodded horrors: the bird’s gaping bones in its cage of old sticks; the black flies in the corner, slimy dead; dry rags of snakes; and the crowded, rotting, silent-roaring city of a cat’s grub- captured carcass.’�
‘’What dread power one’s penny purchased � the painted gallows, the nodding priest, the felon with his face of doom. At a touch, they jerked through their ghastly dance, the priest, hangman, and the convict, joined together by rods and each one condemned as it were to perpetual torment. Their ritual motions led to the jerk of the corpse; the figures froze and the lights went out. Another penny restored the lights, brought back life to the cataleptic trip, and dragged the poor felon once more to the gallows to be strangled all over again.’�
And the serene�
‘’Summer, June summer, with the green back on earth and the whole world unlocked and seething � like winter, it came suddenly and one knew it in bed, almost before waking up; with cuckoos and pigeons hollowing the woods since day � light and the chipping of tits in the pear-blossom.’�
‘’Outdoors, one scarcely knew what had happened or remembered any other time. There had never been rain, or frost, or cloud; it had always been like this. The heat from the ground climbed up one’s legs and smote one under the chin. the garden, dizzy with scent and bees, burned all over with hot white flowers, each one so blinding an incandescence that it hurt the eyes to look at them.’�
September 2, 2023
This little book is made up of passages from Laurie Lee’s first autobiographical work Cider with Rosie selected for their focus on summer. It can work as a short story but there is no plot, it’s more about nothing in particular except the author’s childhood and life growing up in a small Gloucestershire village. There are some nice passages with Lee painting his past in a pleasant light despite some challenges and this is why I didn’t entirely dislike the book. I guess my main issue was how I just couldn’t connect to the ‘characters� (real life people) much at all and despite sounding strange� I didn’t like young Laurie all that much or his attitudes, sort of. There are parts where he talks about pretending to be ‘savages� and makes other racist remarks which I know was more common in the time it was set and written (late 50s) which I couldn’t jam with. Overall, I think the lack of any real story and it being rather dull made this slim book quite difficult to get through, I wish I had DNFd it earlier but as I went on I just thought ‘why not finish it� and I did. I doubt I’ll read anything else by Lee, possibly some of his poetry or prose but I’m definitely not interested in any more autobiographical works.
June 21, 2018
it’s the first day of...
SUMMER by laurie lee (memoir) vibrant descriptions, evoking vivid images of the golden days of childhood summers + ever so lovely
☶�
“Summer was also the time of these: of sudden plenty, of slow hours and actions, of diamond haze and dust on the eyes...of jazzing wasps and dragonflies...of lying naked in the hill-cold stream; begging pennies for bottles of pop; of girls� bare arms and unripe cherries...of fights and falls and new-scabbed knees...All this, and the feeling that it would never end...All sights twice-brilliant and smells twice-sharp, all games twice as long. Double charged as we were, like the meadow ants, with the frenzy of the sun, we used up the light to its last violet drop, and even then couldn’t go to bed.�
☶�
instagram book reviews @brettlikesbooks
SUMMER by laurie lee (memoir) vibrant descriptions, evoking vivid images of the golden days of childhood summers + ever so lovely
☶�
“Summer was also the time of these: of sudden plenty, of slow hours and actions, of diamond haze and dust on the eyes...of jazzing wasps and dragonflies...of lying naked in the hill-cold stream; begging pennies for bottles of pop; of girls� bare arms and unripe cherries...of fights and falls and new-scabbed knees...All this, and the feeling that it would never end...All sights twice-brilliant and smells twice-sharp, all games twice as long. Double charged as we were, like the meadow ants, with the frenzy of the sun, we used up the light to its last violet drop, and even then couldn’t go to bed.�
☶�
instagram book reviews @brettlikesbooks
August 2, 2021
Summer by Laurie Lee is one of the thought provoking books of the vintage mini series. If you have read the memoir of Laurie lee which is a trilogy, then you can recollect the chapters in this tiny book. The snippets of his 1st book Cider with Rosie is the main theme. Set in 1900’s, in a village of Britain, where little Laurie lives with his siblings and his mother; he intricately describes the seasons of his place stating summer was their favourite of all. The idyllic countryside context and perception of a 20th century boy are the souls this book. It has the capability to tickle your fancy. It feels like I had sojourned there. It’s quite immersive. My favourite parts are their moments with the old neighbours Granny Trill and Wallon , their parish outing ,their regional jamboree and Laurie’s infatuation for Rosie.
July 11, 2017
Taken from Laurie Lee’s 'Cider With Rosie', this collection of extracts exudes summer in all its heady glory, reminding us of a time where Summer felt like a vast undiscovered continent. It is the perfect accompaniment for basking indulgently in the splendour of the season.
This was an impulse read for me, as I was looking for something quick for a journey, but Lee's rich description and wonderful insight into the quirkiness of West Country life has encouraged me to seek out the original novel.
This was an impulse read for me, as I was looking for something quick for a journey, but Lee's rich description and wonderful insight into the quirkiness of West Country life has encouraged me to seek out the original novel.
April 4, 2018
Nope. This book was definitely not for me. Way too descriptive and not enough actually happening. I should've known it would be like this - I mean, the book IS called Summer, and Laurie Lee sure goes into very detailed descriptions of his surroundings so you never forget that fact.
It reminded me too much of books we were forced to read in school to analyze all the beautiful imagery and metaphors and so on, and I honestly just wanted a nice book that has an interesting storyline with some wonderful character development.
I struggled to read this 75 page book. That's kind of sad.
It reminded me too much of books we were forced to read in school to analyze all the beautiful imagery and metaphors and so on, and I honestly just wanted a nice book that has an interesting storyline with some wonderful character development.
I struggled to read this 75 page book. That's kind of sad.
October 22, 2017
I was the first time that i have put my hands on the work of Laurie Lee. I feel embarrassed to admit that i did not know any of his work and in the beginning i was betting that the writer is a women.
Such picturesque and vivid images. In the first 5 pages i was ready to leave it unfinished because what of an interest will be for me to read a book for a family during summer time in the 20s? Well it captivate me and let my mind create and depict the atmosphere of the era.
Such picturesque and vivid images. In the first 5 pages i was ready to leave it unfinished because what of an interest will be for me to read a book for a family during summer time in the 20s? Well it captivate me and let my mind create and depict the atmosphere of the era.
August 26, 2019
As a child, regularly sent to an aunt's farm for summer to be separated from my brother with whom I fought all the time and to give my mother some respite, this hits the nail on the head, albeit that my, recall able, childhood was in the mid to late sixties.
Reading this is like, for older British readers, watching Jack Hargreaves on 'Out of Town' (Still available on YouTube).
Fascinating, simple times without an electronic device in sight.
Reading this is like, for older British readers, watching Jack Hargreaves on 'Out of Town' (Still available on YouTube).
Fascinating, simple times without an electronic device in sight.
May 9, 2020
Writing lush to the extreme.
1st page: "The June grass, amongst which I stood, was taller than I was, and I wept. I had never been so close to grass before. It towered above me and all around me, each blade tattoed with tiger-skins of sunlight. It was knife-edged, dark, and wicked green, thick as a forrest and alive with grasshoppers that chirped and chattered and leapt through the air like monkeys."
1st page: "The June grass, amongst which I stood, was taller than I was, and I wept. I had never been so close to grass before. It towered above me and all around me, each blade tattoed with tiger-skins of sunlight. It was knife-edged, dark, and wicked green, thick as a forrest and alive with grasshoppers that chirped and chattered and leapt through the air like monkeys."
May 24, 2021
This book gave me all the chills. The writing is beautiful and the author paints a picture of summer as if it was the first time they were experiencing the season. The story describes vivid memories of a childhood that is filled with family, joy and open fields. It is a short read but managed to get me lost between the lines. Very poetic, which makes it almost feel like a poem that just goes on and on.
December 26, 2018
Jeez, welcome to Dullsville. The excerpts in this Vintage Mini Modern come from Cider with Rosie, and I’ve actually heard good things about that book. I doubt I’ll be reading it after this, though.
Sure, there were the occasional good lines in there and a few quotes that I thought about sharing, but that’s the only reason why this got a 2 out of 5 instead of a 1 out of 5. Yeah.
Sure, there were the occasional good lines in there and a few quotes that I thought about sharing, but that’s the only reason why this got a 2 out of 5 instead of a 1 out of 5. Yeah.
October 19, 2018
Nostalgia for a Britain I don't recognise, and I'm not interested in doing so. Gave me flashbacks to being forced to read Swallows & Amazons-type stuff, which made me nauseous as a child.
Not for me.
Not for me.
July 22, 2019
Beautifully, perfectly written. Would love to read the whole thing!
September 28, 2023
Nostalgični kratki inserti iz djetinjstva autra u ljetnim danima. Djeluje kao posmatranje fotografija tuđeg života.
August 30, 2024
Since this was just a bunch of randomly selected fragments from the author's memoir loosely alluding to summer, it had no actual timeline or point of reference so it simply made no sense.
January 15, 2019
I love Laurie Lee. another lovely little collection of memories from 1910's cotswolds. a little repetitive, however, and I did notice stolen passages from .
September 10, 2018
I've been looking for someone to read after I'm done with Proust, and Lauri Lee with his lush, incandescent prose is the perfect candidate.
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February 17, 2023Reminded me of summer vacations.
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