Caradoc Evans can be counted among the handful of significant writers whose reputations rest substantially on their short stories. He published five collections, three at the beginning and two near the close of a writing career marked at both ends by world war. His whole life as author was one continuous battle--with books suppressed, a play howled down, his portrait slashed across the throat while on public display. Evans had exploded the myth of rural Wales by uncovering lust and violence, cruelty and cunning, beneath the veneer of religion. To this disturbingly original material he brought great gifts as a storyteller--a command of suspense, a staggering economy and directness, and a modernist daring with language. From the outset, too, he moved confidently beyond naturalism into scalding fantasy and black comedy of the grotesque. And if the label "realist" sits uncomfortably on him, so does that of "satirist," for...