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.