myebooksbuy
My Books
Cover of Back o' the Moon, and other stories

Free summary

Back o' the Moon, and other stories

Oliver Onions (1873–1961)

British Literature6 min read·1,303 words

A collection of rugged, atmospheric tales from the Yorkshire dales, where the boundary between folklore, history, and the harsh realities of rural life blurs into something enduringly haunting.

In Short

This volume serves as a window into the isolated, tradition-bound world of 19th-century Yorkshire, capturing a landscape where the harshness of the terrain matches the volatility of its inhabitants. Through a series of linked and standalone stories, the writing explores the collision between encroaching modernity and ancient, stubborn local identities. It is a work of atmospheric realism that avoids sentimentality, favoring a gritty, precise depiction of peasant life, clandestine industry, and the quiet, often grim, mysteries that define the history of the Northern moors.

The Story

Advertisement

The narrative arc of the title story, Back o’ the Moon, centers on a remote, insular community in the Yorkshire dales that attempts to maintain its independence against the encroaching reach of the law. The central figure, Arthur Monjoy, is an engraver who becomes an unlikely leader among these “Back o’ th’ Mooiners.” Monjoy, possessing a wider view of the world than his neighbors, initiates an ambitious, illicit project to establish industrial furnaces, hoping to transform the local trade from small-scale, hidden ventures into a profitable, organized enterprise.

As the project grows, so does the tension between the community and the authorities, represented by the excise officer Jeremy Cope. Cope is a physically small, mocking figure who becomes the focus of the villagers' paranoia. While Monjoy acts as the rational, albeit conflicted, architect of their new industrial order, he struggles to control the violent impulses of his followers, most notably the volatile Mish Murgatroyd. The villagers, clinging to their superstitions and their fierce, proprietary hold on their land, interpret every move through a lens of suspicion.

The story builds toward a confrontation as the authorities close in. Monjoy, realizing the folly of the villagers' defiant stance against the state, attempts to intervene to prevent a bloodbath, but he finds his influence waning. The "culminating catastrophe"—the breaking-in of the marsh upon the moorland—mirrors the internal collapse of the community. As the soldiers arrive to restore order and the furnaces are silenced, the story moves toward a grim resolution. The remnants of the conflict, literally and figuratively, are eventually reclaimed by the landscape. The narrative concludes with the slow, almost indifferent reclamation of the moors by time and nature, leaving behind only fragmentary relics and the persistent, bitter memory of a failed, desperate bid for autonomy. The final sections of the book broaden this scope, touching upon the lives of coastal folk and the internal moral dilemmas of those who risk their own lives to save others, leaving the reader with a meditative look at the price of survival in unforgiving environments.

How It Unfolds

The market gathering The story opens with the arrival of the new exciseman, Jeremy Cope, in a market town where the local tradesmen and weavers view him with thinly veiled distrust. Monjoy introduces the newcomer, setting the stage for a simmering conflict between the official law and the community's insular customs.

The industrial ambition Monjoy establishes his furnaces, attempting to modernize the clandestine trade of the moors and secure prosperity for his fellow villagers. He warns them of the risks of such public activity, but the villagers, emboldened by his success, begin to view him as a king-like figure.

The rising paranoia Matthew Moon plants the seeds of distrust regarding Cope, framing the excise officer as a predator who is “weighing” the villagers for the gallows. The mood shifts from industrious optimism to a feverish, defensive anxiety, as the villagers turn to violent rhetoric.

The failed intervention Monjoy tries to warn Cope of the villagers' plot to kill him, but his authority is gone; his own companions threaten him for his betrayal of their secret. The tension culminates in a chaotic scramble as the military enters the moorland, and Monjoy makes a desperate, final effort to save his partner, Cicely.

The aftermath and reflection The narrative concludes with the destruction of the moorland sanctuary and the eventual scattering of the community. In the closing pieces, the focus shifts to the broader, existential cost of human struggle, leaving the reader with reflections on the value of life and the persistence of memory.

The People

Arthur Monjoy is the moral and intellectual engine of the story. An engraver by trade, he seeks to elevate his community through industry, yet he is undone by his inability to reconcile his rational goals with the irrational, violent passions of the people he leads. He ends the tale as a broken figure, mourning the loss of the life he tried to build.

Jeremy Cope, the excise officer, serves as the chilling antagonist. Physically diminished and physically odd, he wields his authority with a mocking, silent detachment that drives the villagers to madness. He is the catalyst for the conflict, representing an impersonal, cold power that the villagers can neither appease nor escape.

Matthew Moon is the cautious, cynical voice of the community. He is the one who first recognizes the threat posed by Cope, and his influence over the villagers' fears marks the turning point toward violence. He remains a peripheral but potent force, representing the deeply ingrained, suspicious nature of the moorland folk.

Cicely is the quiet, steadfast heart of the story, providing the emotional stakes for Monjoy. Her presence underscores the personal cost of the political and industrial failure of the villagers. She remains loyal through the chaos, representing the fragility of domestic peace in a world defined by encroaching, external pressures.

In Its Own Voice

“The present story derives its main interest from the liveliness of its presentation of the countryside and rustic character of Yorkshire, as these appeared to the observant eye in the earlier half of the nineteenth century.”

The review emphasizes the book’s grounding in historical realism and local color.

“The humble lives of the peasant folk, their jealousies, bickerings and junkettings, take their proper place as background to the working out of the Drake prophecies, while the chief figures are limned with rare skill and insight.”

The critic highlights the balance between the broad, atmospheric background of the community and the precision of the character studies.

What It's Really About

The book explores the tension between local, traditional autonomy and the crushing weight of centralized authority. It asks whether a community can survive by closing itself off from the wider world, or if such isolation inevitably breeds the very paranoia that destroys it from within. Beneath the plot, there is a recurring question about the value of human life—whether it is defined by individual merit or by a collective, often irrational, impulse to protect one's own at any cost. It is a study of how pride, once it becomes communal, can distort moral judgment and lead to inevitable ruin.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate a slow-burn, atmospheric narrative grounded in a specific, lived-in sense of place will find much to admire here. The writing is dense and precise, rewarding those who enjoy prose that captures the texture of a landscape and the idiosyncratic rhythms of rural speech. It does not shy away from the harshness of its setting or the darker, often fatalistic, nature of its characters.

However, the reader should be prepared for the challenges of a dialect-heavy style and a narrative pace that mirrors the rugged, uneven terrain of the Yorkshire moors. Some may find the period attitudes and the slow, deliberate unfolding of the plot demanding. It is not a story of quick thrills, but rather a quiet, persistent examination of a vanished way of life. The experience of reading it feels like unearthing a local legend—it is heavy with the weight of the past and the cold, damp air of the hills. What lingers is the portrait of a community caught in the gears of change, a reminder of the fragility of human ambition when faced with the indifference of history and the land itself.

This summary was written by AI (gemini-3.1-flash-lite) on 2026-08-29 and is a guide to the book, not a replacement for it — it can be incomplete or wrong. The book itself is public domain. Copyright & AI disclosure · Report a problem

More british literature

Keep reading