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Bröderna Alex och Brian har tillbringat hela sina liv i staden där deras far och farfar växte upp, arbetat i gruvan precis som de. Men nu är gruvan nedlagd, staden är förändrad, och de försöker hitta sin plats i den nya tiden.
Simon, Alex son, har inga egna minnen av gruvan. Han jobbar på ett callcenter, har en pojkvän som han döljer för sin familj, samtidigt som han uppträder som dragartist i grannstaden och planerar en Margaret Thatcher-show på den lokala puben.
224 pages, Hardcover
First published February 8, 2024
89 people are currently reading
2356 people want to read
About the author
Andrew McMillan
36 books105 followersAndrew McMillan was born in 1988. He now lectures in Creative Writing at Liverpool John Moores University. He studied English Literature w/ Creative Writing at Lancaster University, and then an MA in modernism from University College London.
His first full-length collection, ‘physical’, will be published by Jonathan Cape in July 2015. This follows three highly successful pamphlets, the first of which, every salt advance, was published in 2009 by Red Squirrel Press. A second pamphlet, ’ the moon is a supporting player’, was published by Red Squirrel Press in October 2011 and a selection of his poet can be found in the seminal new anthology The Salt Book of Younger Poets as well as in Best British Poetry 2013. A new pamphlet length poem, ‘protest of the physical’, was published by Red Squirrel Press in late 2013.
As well as his permanent position at Liverpool John Moores University, Andrew has taught poetry for Sheffield University, Edge Hill University and the Poetry School.
Andrew is currently one of the writers working for national charity First Story, and has been Poet-in-Residence for Off the Page , the LGBT community of Bournemouth, Sea View Day Centre in Poole, Basingstoke Bourough Council and the Regional Youth Theatre Festival; writer-in-residence for the Watershed Landscape Project, Growing Places arts and sustainability project in Newcastle and Apprentice Poet-in-Residence for the Ilkley Literature Festival In 2010 he was commissioned by IMove, the cultural olympiad body for Yorkshire, to produce a new sequence of work which was featured on Radio 4’s Today Programme. He regularly runs workshops for amateur poetry groups and in various community,school and higher education settings as well as for Sheffield Theatres and various literary feativals. 2012 saw him named a ‘new voice’ by both Latitude Festival and Aldeburgh Poetry Festival.
He was founding editor of Cake Magazine alongside Martha Sprackland: http://www.cake-poetry.co.uk/
In 2014 Andrew won a substantial Northern Writers Award from New Writing North.
His first full-length collection, ‘physical’, will be published by Jonathan Cape in July 2015. This follows three highly successful pamphlets, the first of which, every salt advance, was published in 2009 by Red Squirrel Press. A second pamphlet, ’ the moon is a supporting player’, was published by Red Squirrel Press in October 2011 and a selection of his poet can be found in the seminal new anthology The Salt Book of Younger Poets as well as in Best British Poetry 2013. A new pamphlet length poem, ‘protest of the physical’, was published by Red Squirrel Press in late 2013.
As well as his permanent position at Liverpool John Moores University, Andrew has taught poetry for Sheffield University, Edge Hill University and the Poetry School.
Andrew is currently one of the writers working for national charity First Story, and has been Poet-in-Residence for Off the Page , the LGBT community of Bournemouth, Sea View Day Centre in Poole, Basingstoke Bourough Council and the Regional Youth Theatre Festival; writer-in-residence for the Watershed Landscape Project, Growing Places arts and sustainability project in Newcastle and Apprentice Poet-in-Residence for the Ilkley Literature Festival In 2010 he was commissioned by IMove, the cultural olympiad body for Yorkshire, to produce a new sequence of work which was featured on Radio 4’s Today Programme. He regularly runs workshops for amateur poetry groups and in various community,school and higher education settings as well as for Sheffield Theatres and various literary feativals. 2012 saw him named a ‘new voice’ by both Latitude Festival and Aldeburgh Poetry Festival.
He was founding editor of Cake Magazine alongside Martha Sprackland: http://www.cake-poetry.co.uk/
In 2014 Andrew won a substantial Northern Writers Award from New Writing North.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 266 reviews
May 31, 2025
A novel that focuses both on the personal narratives we tell ourselves and the ones tied to the history of the places we live. I liked the queerness in the storylines, but found the overall payoff a bit less powerful than hoped
History then, we posit, is both what is remembered and forgotten.
Beginning with brothers Alex and Brian jointly masturbating, and the shame this brings with it, Pity follows multiple characters in post-industrial Yorkshire. We have Simon, working in a call centre and doing drag shows. Ryan watching footage of their first dates on the CCTV recordings in the shopping centre, which initially gave me the idea their relationship had ended, which didn't turn out to be correct. Then in italics we have repetitive scenes of a grandfather who worked at the mines and died there in an accident.
Alex in the current day is divorced from a wife, father to Simon and deeply closeted.
Which is an interesting contrast to Simon having an OnlyFans to help pay for his drag, which he wants to elevate into something more political with a Margaret Tatcher focused performance.
The scenes from his perspective, including being shunned as a kid, were impactful:
Everything always felt like it was happening for him on a slightly different frequency to his classmates.
Meanwhile Brian goes to town meetings that have some sociologists trying to better understand the town after the closure of the mines and the strikes that this involved:
The past remains present in the present.
There are themes like masculinity (even in the relationship between Ryan and Simon, where having an OnlyFans is seemingly less of a problem than walking around in makeup) and unspoken grief permeating the novel.
I enjoyed Andrew McMillan his poetry, especially Physical, probably more, but overall a solid fiction debut.
Quotes:
The town was officially ranked as the lowest-paid place in the country in research conducted at the end of the last decade.
People do know, they just don’t want to remember, there’s a difference.
People have to get on, people have to live, there’s no point digging all this up, is there
History then, we posit, is both what is remembered and forgotten.
Beginning with brothers Alex and Brian jointly masturbating, and the shame this brings with it, Pity follows multiple characters in post-industrial Yorkshire. We have Simon, working in a call centre and doing drag shows. Ryan watching footage of their first dates on the CCTV recordings in the shopping centre, which initially gave me the idea their relationship had ended, which didn't turn out to be correct. Then in italics we have repetitive scenes of a grandfather who worked at the mines and died there in an accident.
Alex in the current day is divorced from a wife, father to Simon and deeply closeted.
Which is an interesting contrast to Simon having an OnlyFans to help pay for his drag, which he wants to elevate into something more political with a Margaret Tatcher focused performance.
The scenes from his perspective, including being shunned as a kid, were impactful:
Everything always felt like it was happening for him on a slightly different frequency to his classmates.
Meanwhile Brian goes to town meetings that have some sociologists trying to better understand the town after the closure of the mines and the strikes that this involved:
The past remains present in the present.
There are themes like masculinity (even in the relationship between Ryan and Simon, where having an OnlyFans is seemingly less of a problem than walking around in makeup) and unspoken grief permeating the novel.
I enjoyed Andrew McMillan his poetry, especially Physical, probably more, but overall a solid fiction debut.
Quotes:
The town was officially ranked as the lowest-paid place in the country in research conducted at the end of the last decade.
People do know, they just don’t want to remember, there’s a difference.
People have to get on, people have to live, there’s no point digging all this up, is there
January 23, 2025
Longlisted for The Swansea University International Dylan Thomas Prize
His dad asked Simon about his drag name, and he had to try and explain the pun to him and then when his dad asked where it had come from, Simon had to tell him about a play they’d done at college, and how Puttana was this funny, sexy character in it, so he’d just decided to go with that. Alex told his son that he didn’t think that made much sense, though, it didn’t really say anything about who he was, and Simon said well maybe that’s the point, being someone else. And they’d sat for a while before Alex had spoken up again, saying that shouldn’t his drag name be something more local, didn’t he want to be proud of where he was from. And Simon had asked him what sort of name and his dad had replied well, you know, a proper Barnsley drag name, and Simon has said what like Cheryl Coal, and Alex suggested Slag Heap, which made them both howl with laughter, and then Simon suggested Martha Scargill and they both just sat there for a moment, before bursting out laughing again.
A cleverly crafted, compact and compassionate novel of three generations of a Barnsley family, the grandfather having died in a fictionalised version of the 1975 Houghton Main Colliery Explosion and which both is, and is not, a tale of the town itself (the novel subtitled notes from a town):
We are certain that the story a place tells of itself should be more important than the story that is told about it, and that the weight of the latter in national narratives silences the former. One of our team speaks up from the back of the car and asks which ‘story the town might tell of itself’ do we really mean? Isn’t any attempt to coalesce or contain those narratives just another form of imposition? Anybody carving out small chunks of story from the wall of sound and noise and voice and memory is doing so selectively, and a small nugget of a larger thing should never be taken to be the thing itself.
Postscript
After the excellent but traumatic Lori and Joe, it was nice to read back a book that brought back better sporting memories:
His dad asked Simon about his drag name, and he had to try and explain the pun to him and then when his dad asked where it had come from, Simon had to tell him about a play they’d done at college, and how Puttana was this funny, sexy character in it, so he’d just decided to go with that. Alex told his son that he didn’t think that made much sense, though, it didn’t really say anything about who he was, and Simon said well maybe that’s the point, being someone else. And they’d sat for a while before Alex had spoken up again, saying that shouldn’t his drag name be something more local, didn’t he want to be proud of where he was from. And Simon had asked him what sort of name and his dad had replied well, you know, a proper Barnsley drag name, and Simon has said what like Cheryl Coal, and Alex suggested Slag Heap, which made them both howl with laughter, and then Simon suggested Martha Scargill and they both just sat there for a moment, before bursting out laughing again.
A cleverly crafted, compact and compassionate novel of three generations of a Barnsley family, the grandfather having died in a fictionalised version of the 1975 Houghton Main Colliery Explosion and which both is, and is not, a tale of the town itself (the novel subtitled notes from a town):
We are certain that the story a place tells of itself should be more important than the story that is told about it, and that the weight of the latter in national narratives silences the former. One of our team speaks up from the back of the car and asks which ‘story the town might tell of itself’ do we really mean? Isn’t any attempt to coalesce or contain those narratives just another form of imposition? Anybody carving out small chunks of story from the wall of sound and noise and voice and memory is doing so selectively, and a small nugget of a larger thing should never be taken to be the thing itself.
Postscript
After the excellent but traumatic Lori and Joe, it was nice to read back a book that brought back better sporting memories:
February 11, 2024
Barnsley, South Yorkshire.
Former mining town.
A town limping into the present, the shadows of the past lingering on.
The novel is split into sections dedicated to three generations of one family. A grandfather's poetic recall of his time down the pit, and his two sons and grandson as they navigate the present.
There are also sections titled 'fieldnotes', dedicated to a group of sociologists who are studying the town's history. Not only from the POV of the decline of industry (and decimation at the hands of Thatcher), but also the importance of the local football club for community amongst other things.
A very nuanced and expertly crafted novel, blending timeframes across generations to highlight the nature of change in towns that have fallen through the net. Ghost-like, one generation grieving - and impacting younger generations with the scars of its past. Very nostalgic.
From the miners and their excruciating work, to more contemporary living - particularly the grandson Simon and his call centre job and drag queen act in the clubs and bars of South Yorkshire.
Definitely recommend. Thanks to Canon for the copy.
Former mining town.
A town limping into the present, the shadows of the past lingering on.
The novel is split into sections dedicated to three generations of one family. A grandfather's poetic recall of his time down the pit, and his two sons and grandson as they navigate the present.
There are also sections titled 'fieldnotes', dedicated to a group of sociologists who are studying the town's history. Not only from the POV of the decline of industry (and decimation at the hands of Thatcher), but also the importance of the local football club for community amongst other things.
A very nuanced and expertly crafted novel, blending timeframes across generations to highlight the nature of change in towns that have fallen through the net. Ghost-like, one generation grieving - and impacting younger generations with the scars of its past. Very nostalgic.
From the miners and their excruciating work, to more contemporary living - particularly the grandson Simon and his call centre job and drag queen act in the clubs and bars of South Yorkshire.
Definitely recommend. Thanks to Canon for the copy.
March 27, 2024
This worked really well for me! It is a bit of a patchwork of a novel, telling different stories and blending different styles in short chapters, all relating to life in the North-English mining town of Barnsley.
It's very short, I read it in one day, but it packs a lot and combines interesting background with very good writing. The author could have dragged it out over 300 pages but I appreciated the restraint. I would be happy to see it on the Booker longlist come July.
It's very short, I read it in one day, but it packs a lot and combines interesting background with very good writing. The author could have dragged it out over 300 pages but I appreciated the restraint. I would be happy to see it on the Booker longlist come July.
July 30, 2024
4.5
A novel, for a change, from this poet. It shows: in the beauty of the writing and the smoothness with which he flicks from one scene to another.
Barnsley, South Yorkshire, the author’s home town. A mining community, now devoid of the mining. What about ‘community’, has it survived?
In ‘Pity’ we are hauled down the mines repeatedly, in staccato-like sketches. But sufficient to experience sweat, grime and coal dust on the roof of your mouth, claustrophobia and resentment of the black diamond monster you’re chipping away at.
Thatcher brought the curtain down on mining of course. A fact never to be forgotten here. It was preceded by a mining explosion which took the lives of some of the town’s fathers. Simon grows up here, gay, brave and talented. Call centre operative by day, drag queen and promoter by night. Academia comes to the town and tries to get under the skin of the place. Alongside them, we do our own delving with Andrew M. Much more rewarding.
Very enjoyable read: got me thinking about the movie Pride, for obvious reasons (different locations though).
A novel, for a change, from this poet. It shows: in the beauty of the writing and the smoothness with which he flicks from one scene to another.
Barnsley, South Yorkshire, the author’s home town. A mining community, now devoid of the mining. What about ‘community’, has it survived?
In ‘Pity’ we are hauled down the mines repeatedly, in staccato-like sketches. But sufficient to experience sweat, grime and coal dust on the roof of your mouth, claustrophobia and resentment of the black diamond monster you’re chipping away at.
Thatcher brought the curtain down on mining of course. A fact never to be forgotten here. It was preceded by a mining explosion which took the lives of some of the town’s fathers. Simon grows up here, gay, brave and talented. Call centre operative by day, drag queen and promoter by night. Academia comes to the town and tries to get under the skin of the place. Alongside them, we do our own delving with Andrew M. Much more rewarding.
Very enjoyable read: got me thinking about the movie Pride, for obvious reasons (different locations though).
February 12, 2024
Told in short snippets or vignettes depending on how fancy you want to be - this short 100 page novel is about a drag queen who dresses up as Thatcher and is from Barnsley.
Barnsley and Yorkshire really do come through in this novel, the use of setting is the strongest part of this novel; it wouldn't have worked in London or New York. It is so uniquely northern and queer. The history of the location is so important. The history the mining communities have with Thatcher, the history the gay community have with Thatcher, section 28, all give this book a historic feel that is contradicted by things like Simon's use of Only Fans. This is a book full of hook ups in public toilets and text messaging.
Queer guilt, identity, mining disasters, drag as an art form, but also drag as a form of protest or commentary, all sort of mesh together in the themes of this novel. This is a society that burnt effigies of Thatcher when she died, the novel poses you the question, how does dressing up as her respect the people who suffered because of her actions? Is she being glamourised? Or is this trivialising her impact? Is it okay because Simon or Putanna as she is known in drag, is both gay and from a mining family?
This is wrapped up in this story of queer shame, a love story, and a story of family, who are still suffering from a mining accident that killed Brian.
This is an ambitious novel, and it is a good one - but 100 pages was just a little too brief for the impressive themes to all receive the amount of discussion that would have elevated to this book. This is a book where the setting (Both Barnsley and the Queer community) is king, but where characters and themes are super strong too, however the plot could have used a bit more time and work and I think this probably suffered because the book was so short. The sections were also just a bit too short for me, leading to the book being slightly too jumpy. Please don't be put off by the criticism I have for this book, it is a novella that while imperfect, has a lot of quality, is well worth reading, and is a super encouraging debut. I can't wait to read what McMillan does next.
Would love to read this as an audiobook with a good strong Yorkshire accent in my ears to help transport me to God's Own Country.
Barnsley and Yorkshire really do come through in this novel, the use of setting is the strongest part of this novel; it wouldn't have worked in London or New York. It is so uniquely northern and queer. The history of the location is so important. The history the mining communities have with Thatcher, the history the gay community have with Thatcher, section 28, all give this book a historic feel that is contradicted by things like Simon's use of Only Fans. This is a book full of hook ups in public toilets and text messaging.
Queer guilt, identity, mining disasters, drag as an art form, but also drag as a form of protest or commentary, all sort of mesh together in the themes of this novel. This is a society that burnt effigies of Thatcher when she died, the novel poses you the question, how does dressing up as her respect the people who suffered because of her actions? Is she being glamourised? Or is this trivialising her impact? Is it okay because Simon or Putanna as she is known in drag, is both gay and from a mining family?
This is wrapped up in this story of queer shame, a love story, and a story of family, who are still suffering from a mining accident that killed Brian.
This is an ambitious novel, and it is a good one - but 100 pages was just a little too brief for the impressive themes to all receive the amount of discussion that would have elevated to this book. This is a book where the setting (Both Barnsley and the Queer community) is king, but where characters and themes are super strong too, however the plot could have used a bit more time and work and I think this probably suffered because the book was so short. The sections were also just a bit too short for me, leading to the book being slightly too jumpy. Please don't be put off by the criticism I have for this book, it is a novella that while imperfect, has a lot of quality, is well worth reading, and is a super encouraging debut. I can't wait to read what McMillan does next.
Would love to read this as an audiobook with a good strong Yorkshire accent in my ears to help transport me to God's Own Country.
April 8, 2025
A multigenerational tale of sexuality and class, Pity tells parallel stories all set in Barnsley, a town in South Yorkshire that, to this day, hasn't really recovered from the mine closures under Thatcher's rule.
How was the story?
Well, it was alright. As the gay son of a Yorkshireman, I related to parts of this, but wish I'd related more.
The main issue for me was the POV chapters. There are at least six different POVs, which to me is a problem in a 171 page book. The characters never really got beyond surface level and, for me, McMillan's writing simply wasn't enough to elicit any sort of strong reaction within that small page count. For me, there was nothing especially to like or dislike about the characters, and the observations were fairly simple, I.e. masculine security guard doesn't like it when his drag queen boyfriend de-drags and leaves a bit of their eyeliner on.
In the right hands, this could've been so much more, but with authors like Douglas Stuart, Edouard Louis and Garth Greenwell (who can pack a much heftier wallop into a sub-200 page book) currently writing, I can't see this being inducted into the emerging gay canon of the 21st Century.
Three stars as I think the message of the novel itself is important and I'm glad it's been told, but no higher due to the way in which it was told.
How was the story?
Well, it was alright. As the gay son of a Yorkshireman, I related to parts of this, but wish I'd related more.
The main issue for me was the POV chapters. There are at least six different POVs, which to me is a problem in a 171 page book. The characters never really got beyond surface level and, for me, McMillan's writing simply wasn't enough to elicit any sort of strong reaction within that small page count. For me, there was nothing especially to like or dislike about the characters, and the observations were fairly simple, I.e. masculine security guard doesn't like it when his drag queen boyfriend de-drags and leaves a bit of their eyeliner on.
In the right hands, this could've been so much more, but with authors like Douglas Stuart, Edouard Louis and Garth Greenwell (who can pack a much heftier wallop into a sub-200 page book) currently writing, I can't see this being inducted into the emerging gay canon of the 21st Century.
Three stars as I think the message of the novel itself is important and I'm glad it's been told, but no higher due to the way in which it was told.
February 21, 2024
4,5
A compassionate and intense story about queer love, identity, class and politics, set in a former mining town in Northern England. The structure is clever and the historical and political references to the mining era and Thatcher are compellingly conveyed. A small but excellent debut novel!
A compassionate and intense story about queer love, identity, class and politics, set in a former mining town in Northern England. The structure is clever and the historical and political references to the mining era and Thatcher are compellingly conveyed. A small but excellent debut novel!
May 16, 2024
Bästa bok jag läst på väldigt länge! Vilken författare, som kan berätta en så berörande, storslagen och komplex historia på så få sidor. Är mållös!
May 23, 2024
Inte dålig alls. Besvikelsen ligger i bristen på överraskningar; dragshow i ett engelskt gruvsamhälle känns som vardagsmat. Att vara så blasé är synd, men vad ska man göra.
February 22, 2024
A dense, quiet, moving novel told in the voice of a poet.
November 11, 2023
We pose some questions to each other, to our fellow academics reading this article, as we acknowledge our debt to Bright, to Gordon, to Skeggs: what is it that is being concealed? What does it mean for it to be alive and present? What is it to be looked at, but not seen? What is the difference between feeling and knowing?
It's incredible what Andrew McMillan has done with relatively simple means. The novel consists of several narrative threads, including Simon's (who does drag at a local club and OnlyFans to support himself), Ryan (his boyfriend and a security guard), Simon's father Alex's, Alex's brother Brian's who's engaged with a group of academic researchers, academics and their article's, and Brian's and Alex's father's (the miner) threads. Relations between the threads often overlap and the point where they converge is the question of what remains in memory, individual and collective, especially after the event of a particular significance (the collapse of the mine, first stirrings of desire, etc.). The novel also speaks about what has changed, especially from the angle of labor - Simon's all about cultural industry in one way or another with his digital and clubbing presence, while earlier forms, such as mining, are long gone (Thatcher figures also). And with changing forms of labor towards postindustrial, the novel's also about changing forms of knowing - Ryan spends his working hours in front of surveillance equipment, watching for men in the toilets. A very Foucauldian thing, digitally transformed.
It's incredible what Andrew McMillan has done with relatively simple means. The novel consists of several narrative threads, including Simon's (who does drag at a local club and OnlyFans to support himself), Ryan (his boyfriend and a security guard), Simon's father Alex's, Alex's brother Brian's who's engaged with a group of academic researchers, academics and their article's, and Brian's and Alex's father's (the miner) threads. Relations between the threads often overlap and the point where they converge is the question of what remains in memory, individual and collective, especially after the event of a particular significance (the collapse of the mine, first stirrings of desire, etc.). The novel also speaks about what has changed, especially from the angle of labor - Simon's all about cultural industry in one way or another with his digital and clubbing presence, while earlier forms, such as mining, are long gone (Thatcher figures also). And with changing forms of labor towards postindustrial, the novel's also about changing forms of knowing - Ryan spends his working hours in front of surveillance equipment, watching for men in the toilets. A very Foucauldian thing, digitally transformed.
November 11, 2024
A totally absorbing novel. I can't say it better than the quote from Jessica Andrews from the back of the edition I read:
"Through an acute exploration of social class, masculinity, sexuality and resistance, McMillan deftly portrays a town grappling with loss amid its post-industrial legacy, while offering a hopeful vision of what the future could look like."
Favorite lines:
"The teachers just wanted the students to get 5 GCSEs. Their parents just wanted them to get jobs."
"Simon had read once how anxiety and excitement are really just separated by the thinnest seam of feeling."
"Through an acute exploration of social class, masculinity, sexuality and resistance, McMillan deftly portrays a town grappling with loss amid its post-industrial legacy, while offering a hopeful vision of what the future could look like."
Favorite lines:
"The teachers just wanted the students to get 5 GCSEs. Their parents just wanted them to get jobs."
"Simon had read once how anxiety and excitement are really just separated by the thinnest seam of feeling."
January 3, 2024
Brian and Alex are brothers from an ex-mining town.
Alex has a son, Simon, who is gay and fully embraces his sexuality with a OnlyFans site where he uploads videos, involving his boyfriend Ryan. He also does drag, which Ryan isn’t so keen on as he feels it effeminate.
Simon develops an act playing Margaret Thatcher and making fun of the Iron Lady and her part in breaking the mining strikes and closing pits.
At the same time a group of academics and artists are working with local people to create a shared community history of the ex-mining town.
This was the interesting aspect for me: the parachuting in of a group, probably paid for by the Arts Council or a University, who aim to make people feel more in touch with their history. It is clear that Simon’s own art, developed as a person who grew up there and in touch with the community, gets a better reaction and appreciation than the outsiders.
There is also an interwoven story about Alex and his repressed homosexuality.
The writing is broken up into strata like the coal, with small chunks of field reports from the Community History project and CCTV footage from the local shopping centre.
I enjoyed the story and the style, reminiscent of Sillitoe or Hines, but that also made it feel slightly out of time. Although the author acknowledges history crushing down on the past, in an age where many authors are writing about climate change, I wonder what ex-miners feel about the part the coal industry played. That’s me putting my politics on to my review, however.
Alex has a son, Simon, who is gay and fully embraces his sexuality with a OnlyFans site where he uploads videos, involving his boyfriend Ryan. He also does drag, which Ryan isn’t so keen on as he feels it effeminate.
Simon develops an act playing Margaret Thatcher and making fun of the Iron Lady and her part in breaking the mining strikes and closing pits.
At the same time a group of academics and artists are working with local people to create a shared community history of the ex-mining town.
This was the interesting aspect for me: the parachuting in of a group, probably paid for by the Arts Council or a University, who aim to make people feel more in touch with their history. It is clear that Simon’s own art, developed as a person who grew up there and in touch with the community, gets a better reaction and appreciation than the outsiders.
There is also an interwoven story about Alex and his repressed homosexuality.
The writing is broken up into strata like the coal, with small chunks of field reports from the Community History project and CCTV footage from the local shopping centre.
I enjoyed the story and the style, reminiscent of Sillitoe or Hines, but that also made it feel slightly out of time. Although the author acknowledges history crushing down on the past, in an age where many authors are writing about climate change, I wonder what ex-miners feel about the part the coal industry played. That’s me putting my politics on to my review, however.
June 13, 2024
Puttana Short Dress goes Margaret Thatcher i poeten Andrew McMillians romandebut. Puttana är dragshowartist och heter egentligen Simon. Han bor i en postindustriell engelsk gruvort, jobbar på ett callcenter, tjänar extra genom att vika ut sig på OnlyFans och är tillsammans med Ryan. Simons pappa, farbror och farfar jobbade i den kolgruva som en gång utgjorde samhällets nav. Synd är en bok om klass, manlighet och identitet.
Det är en liten bok med korta avsnitt och flera protagonister. Språket växlar beroende på vem som fokaliseras. Forskarna pratar gärna om narrativ och när ordet går över till ”folket i orten” är det talspråk som gäller. Jag gillar att McMillian breddar diskussionen och inte bara utgår från sina egna erfarenheter, men det känns lite för kategoriskt. Han är något på spåren när han skriver om skärmarnas funktion och hur vi ser på varandra och oss själva genom dem, men jag saknar en djupare analys.
Jag blir tyvärr aldrig helt indragen i den här fragmentariska och övertydliga romanen. Den är lite för storslagen, det händer lite för mycket och sen köper jag inte grundpremissen att man kan vara ”helt sig själv” utklädd och bejublad på en scen.
Jag tycker mycket om att McMillian gestaltar hur tiderna och tingen förändras men att människorna är desamma. Klassamhället består och könsrollerna lever även om det är långt fler idag som vill, vågar och kan trampa över dem.
Trots att han är poet hittar jag märkligt nog inget avsnitt jag vill citera.
Det är en liten bok med korta avsnitt och flera protagonister. Språket växlar beroende på vem som fokaliseras. Forskarna pratar gärna om narrativ och när ordet går över till ”folket i orten” är det talspråk som gäller. Jag gillar att McMillian breddar diskussionen och inte bara utgår från sina egna erfarenheter, men det känns lite för kategoriskt. Han är något på spåren när han skriver om skärmarnas funktion och hur vi ser på varandra och oss själva genom dem, men jag saknar en djupare analys.
Jag blir tyvärr aldrig helt indragen i den här fragmentariska och övertydliga romanen. Den är lite för storslagen, det händer lite för mycket och sen köper jag inte grundpremissen att man kan vara ”helt sig själv” utklädd och bejublad på en scen.
Jag tycker mycket om att McMillian gestaltar hur tiderna och tingen förändras men att människorna är desamma. Klassamhället består och könsrollerna lever även om det är långt fler idag som vill, vågar och kan trampa över dem.
Trots att han är poet hittar jag märkligt nog inget avsnitt jag vill citera.
March 5, 2024
ooohhh just one more chapter, please! It was crushing and heart warming.
I heard Andrew McMillan read extracts of this and it was absolutely everything it promised to be and a tad bit more. Obsessed with the split narratives: Alex and Brian, Brian and neighbours, Ryan and CCTV, until Simon's show. The parallels and the building of queer, generational guilt and gradual generational confidence; may we move upwards and onwards and remember where it all started.
I heard Andrew McMillan read extracts of this and it was absolutely everything it promised to be and a tad bit more. Obsessed with the split narratives: Alex and Brian, Brian and neighbours, Ryan and CCTV, until Simon's show. The parallels and the building of queer, generational guilt and gradual generational confidence; may we move upwards and onwards and remember where it all started.
January 29, 2024
I've been a big fan of Andrew McMillan's poetry for a while now and his debut novel did not disappoint - really enjoyed this! A short but super interesting read and a great addition to queer & working-class literature
February 18, 2024
Literary Wank. I'm sure it'll be very well reviewed as it ticks all the necessary boxes but I found the characters unlikeable and the miners strike stuff felt like it was just thrown in to guarantee sales/awards (and I guess it worked cos that's why I read it).
Read
February 29, 2024short n English n gay - my fave things
February 5, 2024
For such a short novel this is very layered and develops a lot of complex themes.
The sense of place is portrayed well deftly evoking a detailed immersion into this Yorkshire town for the reader. Barnsley was definitely another character in this book as McMillan explores identity as one of his themes. We are taken on a parallel journey into what shapes the identity of a town and equally how our characters are reconciled (or not) to express who they really are.
The discussion about history was of particular interest to me. How history is oppressive, hard to break free from and prejudices judgements. History is subjective. True freedom comes from acknowledging what has happened in our past, both good and bad and reshaping it making new commentary and paths to a different future.
The mining passages in this novel were beautiful and poetic. The references to Thatcher and the effects of the 80s politics particularly on the north having repercussions forty years later, was powerfully shown. The characters were interesting and nuanced. There was a lot packed into this novel and for me not all of it was fully developed and could have been taken further giving us more to the stories of the lives in this book. But this was impressive and will leave me with plenty of food for thought.
This honest review is given with thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this book.
The sense of place is portrayed well deftly evoking a detailed immersion into this Yorkshire town for the reader. Barnsley was definitely another character in this book as McMillan explores identity as one of his themes. We are taken on a parallel journey into what shapes the identity of a town and equally how our characters are reconciled (or not) to express who they really are.
The discussion about history was of particular interest to me. How history is oppressive, hard to break free from and prejudices judgements. History is subjective. True freedom comes from acknowledging what has happened in our past, both good and bad and reshaping it making new commentary and paths to a different future.
The mining passages in this novel were beautiful and poetic. The references to Thatcher and the effects of the 80s politics particularly on the north having repercussions forty years later, was powerfully shown. The characters were interesting and nuanced. There was a lot packed into this novel and for me not all of it was fully developed and could have been taken further giving us more to the stories of the lives in this book. But this was impressive and will leave me with plenty of food for thought.
This honest review is given with thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this book.
September 15, 2024
I think it's rare to read something that takes such care of 'place' as Andrew McMillan takes with Barnsley here. It was a treat.
May 14, 2025
3.75 stars
March 21, 2024
Pity follows three generations of men in an old mining town, outlining their identities and mapping their pasts. Academic additions are made to the book, and become integral to the narrative. They are neither presented as omniscient and worldly nor as supercilious and unnecessary. The novel shows interaction and dialogue between past and present, academia and blue collar life, father and son, partners. It is experimental and it works.
There seems to be a small literary movement that mixes scientific language, memories, art and poetry with classical narrative, often focusing on gay experiences. And I seem to like these books. Pity is different in many ways from Justin Torres's Blackouts, but the mixture of distinctly different perspectives and tones connects both in my mind. In Pity, there is a group of social scientists who visit a town where a mining disaster happened decades earlier and try to find a new language to talk about these things. They ask what it means for a town to be known only for its disasters. But their field notes are only one strand of the narrative.
There is also Brian, whose father died in the disaster and who takes part in a number of interviews. A father and a miner himself, he goes to the 'interactive sessions' that the academics hold to interact with the locals. He remembers the town of his past, remembers language and meaning, and serves as a resistance to the outsiders' interpretations, while also learning from them.
A third voice is that of Brian's brother, Alex, who struggles with his own identity as he comes to accept his son Simon's way of life - a gay man with an only-fans account and a regular drag queen gig that he wants to make more political.
As well as his plans for a Maggie Thatcher parody, Simon is also struggling with his relationship with his boyfriend Ryan, who participates in the only-fans aspect of his life but seems unsure of his drag persona.
Ryan - the fifth voice in the novel - works in a shopping centre and dreams of a career as a policeman. His chapters are in the sections entitled Surveillance: CCTV, because he spends most of his time in the office looking at security cameras.
And throughout, in a different font, are memories from across time, of the older Brian, the father who died in the mine accident, and also the voice of a seventh person watching these other people in the club ("gossip").
All of this can be confusing - different fonts and styles overlapping, the narrative mostly speaking for itself rather than explaining its own form or logic - but it is also fascinating. I kept wondering if it was all working, without being able to put it down. The prose is precise, sometimes poetic, always to the point. Some of the descriptions - especially of the only-fans aspect of Simon's life - are perhaps too explicit, but I found that it worked for me as part of the watching, the observing that the novel incorporates into its narrative.
There seems to be a small literary movement that mixes scientific language, memories, art and poetry with classical narrative, often focusing on gay experiences. And I seem to like these books. Pity is different in many ways from Justin Torres's Blackouts, but the mixture of distinctly different perspectives and tones connects both in my mind. In Pity, there is a group of social scientists who visit a town where a mining disaster happened decades earlier and try to find a new language to talk about these things. They ask what it means for a town to be known only for its disasters. But their field notes are only one strand of the narrative.
There is also Brian, whose father died in the disaster and who takes part in a number of interviews. A father and a miner himself, he goes to the 'interactive sessions' that the academics hold to interact with the locals. He remembers the town of his past, remembers language and meaning, and serves as a resistance to the outsiders' interpretations, while also learning from them.
A third voice is that of Brian's brother, Alex, who struggles with his own identity as he comes to accept his son Simon's way of life - a gay man with an only-fans account and a regular drag queen gig that he wants to make more political.
As well as his plans for a Maggie Thatcher parody, Simon is also struggling with his relationship with his boyfriend Ryan, who participates in the only-fans aspect of his life but seems unsure of his drag persona.
Ryan - the fifth voice in the novel - works in a shopping centre and dreams of a career as a policeman. His chapters are in the sections entitled Surveillance: CCTV, because he spends most of his time in the office looking at security cameras.
And throughout, in a different font, are memories from across time, of the older Brian, the father who died in the mine accident, and also the voice of a seventh person watching these other people in the club ("gossip").
All of this can be confusing - different fonts and styles overlapping, the narrative mostly speaking for itself rather than explaining its own form or logic - but it is also fascinating. I kept wondering if it was all working, without being able to put it down. The prose is precise, sometimes poetic, always to the point. Some of the descriptions - especially of the only-fans aspect of Simon's life - are perhaps too explicit, but I found that it worked for me as part of the watching, the observing that the novel incorporates into its narrative.
May 19, 2024
I’m still quite speechless after reading this book. It was excellent and achieved so much in such short form. A beautiful portrayal of a time and place and people living there affected by its past, so simple and ordinary yet carrying so much.
February 15, 2024
Despite being a short novel (less than 200 pages), this was impactful and provocative.
Taking an experimental approach, with different narrative perspectives, styles and typefaces, the reader is exposed to a town (Barnsley) defined by its now defunct coal mines and a tragedy that befell it some years prior.
We get the perspective of three generations of men - grandfather Brian who worked down the mines, his sons Alex and Brian who grew up in the shadow of (though were largely unaware of) the mines but still affected by the fallout of their closure and the accident, and grandson Simon who has a burgeoning career in drag with regular club appearances and a sideline OnlyFans page.
What defines a town and who gets to tell its story? What is community and how does a community move on from tragedy? What impact do traditional male values have on expression of self, sexuality and identity? All of these and more are explored in this interesting and beautifully written little political novel that’s tipped to feature on prize lists. Thought-provoking and memorable. 4/5⭐️
*Many thanks to Canongate books for the arc via Netgalley. As always, this is an honest review.
Taking an experimental approach, with different narrative perspectives, styles and typefaces, the reader is exposed to a town (Barnsley) defined by its now defunct coal mines and a tragedy that befell it some years prior.
We get the perspective of three generations of men - grandfather Brian who worked down the mines, his sons Alex and Brian who grew up in the shadow of (though were largely unaware of) the mines but still affected by the fallout of their closure and the accident, and grandson Simon who has a burgeoning career in drag with regular club appearances and a sideline OnlyFans page.
What defines a town and who gets to tell its story? What is community and how does a community move on from tragedy? What impact do traditional male values have on expression of self, sexuality and identity? All of these and more are explored in this interesting and beautifully written little political novel that’s tipped to feature on prize lists. Thought-provoking and memorable. 4/5⭐️
*Many thanks to Canongate books for the arc via Netgalley. As always, this is an honest review.
February 27, 2025
Pity by Andrew McMillan enjoyed this short novel set in present day Barnsley in the north of England. It's a book about memory and the things / strikes and events which make up people and places. It deals with loss and grief, the ways in which people keep bits of themselves hidden and what they choose to show. It made me think of other towns I've travelled through in the north of England - the places which have so obviously been hit by economic decline, where opportunity seems limited. A sad book in some ways , but it's also about personal resilience and the potential for change in people and attitudes. Written by a prof from Manchester Met , it also pokes fun at the way researchers try to understand ordinary people.
March 28, 2025
Incredible. I love how it’s told from all the different perspectives, it really highlights how the story revolves around how you are viewed by your peers, researchers and strangers. The miners and researchers perspective was unlike anything I’ve read before and it’s amazing and I loved how it all come together at the end. I felt very represented by multiple characters which doesn’t happen often. How drag is written about is beautiful, how it puts emphasis on it as a political art that takes so much time and effort is amazing.
I also think this would translate so well into a short film that I would queue up to watch.
Also it was a privilege to meet the author in Liverpool.
I also think this would translate so well into a short film that I would queue up to watch.
Also it was a privilege to meet the author in Liverpool.
August 20, 2024
Ryan understood disguise, trying to hide, but it was different to lose yourself in something that was hyper-visible; the way you could lay something over the surface, and in the gentle touch that took, come to know better what was underneath.This book seeps of hope and regret. While Brian helps out uni students with a project about his mining town, his younger brother Alex grapples with his life's lost moments and regrets. Most of the story is told from the perspective of his young son, Simon, who's a drag queen with an OnlyFans account. Where Alex lost his queer youth, Simon embraces it. The mining town serves as an interesting backdrop and the fragmented narrative (cctv footage, gossip, uni reports, ...) worked quite well to keep the story together.
March 22, 2025
quick weekend read - enjoyed the concept of the history of a working class English mining town being told through different generations of the same family. sort of read a bit like a YA book, which I don’t think it is advertised as, but that’s fine. I would like to visit the Maurice Dobson museum now.
January 21, 2025
2.5 to 3 🌟
Well, this was a strange little book, not so much a novella as an excavation, told in snippets of time, a patchwork of fractured stories bouncing back and forth across the years. And even if the prose was rather plain (which surprised me, for this author's day job is a poet), I enjoyed most of these excavations - the drag shows (drag as protest artform!!) the quick glimpses of a rapidly fading childhood, the compassionate glance at the dying streets of a forgotten town in South Yorkshire, the mining disaster, the sex work, the queer guilt (I wanted more of this one), and what it means to be a working class queer, especially when the spirit of Thatcher forever haunts the ruined buildings of your town like the disgusting, psychopathic criminal she was. However, I didn't enjoy the academic sections. These just solidified my view that academia is a stupid and pointless thing that should be relegated to the history books, lol (sorry, not sorry!). Or maybe that was the point of these sections? Overall, this was a dense, sparse, quiet, stripped to the bone and almost ghost-like read, and in the last quarter, even the prose started to become more dreamlike and lyrical, which I appreciated, but because it was so short, with hardly any real meat to hold onto, I doubt it will remain long in my mind.
Well, this was a strange little book, not so much a novella as an excavation, told in snippets of time, a patchwork of fractured stories bouncing back and forth across the years. And even if the prose was rather plain (which surprised me, for this author's day job is a poet), I enjoyed most of these excavations - the drag shows (drag as protest artform!!) the quick glimpses of a rapidly fading childhood, the compassionate glance at the dying streets of a forgotten town in South Yorkshire, the mining disaster, the sex work, the queer guilt (I wanted more of this one), and what it means to be a working class queer, especially when the spirit of Thatcher forever haunts the ruined buildings of your town like the disgusting, psychopathic criminal she was. However, I didn't enjoy the academic sections. These just solidified my view that academia is a stupid and pointless thing that should be relegated to the history books, lol (sorry, not sorry!). Or maybe that was the point of these sections? Overall, this was a dense, sparse, quiet, stripped to the bone and almost ghost-like read, and in the last quarter, even the prose started to become more dreamlike and lyrical, which I appreciated, but because it was so short, with hardly any real meat to hold onto, I doubt it will remain long in my mind.
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