What do you think?
Rate this book


448 pages, Unknown Binding
Published February 5, 2025
‘Why would he take a scorpion on his back?’
‘It’s like when you go for parole and you try and persuade them you've changed. Then you get nicked again, and you're thinking it’s their fault for letting me go last time,’ Ravel says.
‘Do you know what I wanna know?’ says Wesley. ‘Did the scorpion know the whole time that he was gonna sting him, or did he only know once he stung him? Like people in here — they say they're your friend and they aren’t gonna rob you and then they rob you, but did they know they was gonna do that when they made friends with you or did they know they were only gonna rob you when they did it?’
‘I know,’ Ravel says. He comes to the board. I step away. He uses the side of his fist to rub out the river drawn on the board. ‘If the river wasn’t there, then this wouldn't happen. The environment was to blame.’
He sits back down and Wesley says, “But there’s always an environment. If there wasn’t no environment, there wouldn’t even be any animals.’
‘But your jail friends who rob you, maybe they don’t do that in a different environment.’
‘They are called jail friends. It’s in the name. This is their environment.’
Easton slides off the edge of the table and stands up. 'Say man is banged up for fifteen years, he says. 'He does every day of it behind the door. In jail he knows the barber, knows everyone on his landing, everyone in the gym.’ He stands with his feet wide apart. He points at me with his first two fingers, his hand the shape of a gun. ‘Then man gets out’, he says. ‘First night outside is harder than his first night inside. Knows nobody on his tower block. Nobody says hello. He can't get a job. The tempo inside was slow and now, outside, life is flying past him.’The book is full of this kind of prison philosophy, of unlikely discussions. Violence, anger, crime. There is surprisingly little talk of that in this book. There is, however, a lot of humour. As one class begins, we hear how an inmate “points at my suntanned face and asks me where I have been. I try to keep my answers as clipped as possible, worrying that a group of jailed men might smart from hearing about Phuket’s tropical beaches … but they keep asking questions”. One prisoner asks “Did you go with your boyfriend?”. West says he went alone and carries on answering their questions: “They ask if I got a good deal on flights, if I got the shits while I was there. As I answer their questions, I consider dropping into the conversation that I have a girlfriend, but the atmosphere in the room now is so genial and tolerant that I don’t have the heart to tell them I’m not gay”.
Easton walks the width of the classroom floor. He carries on. ‘When he hears the sound of keys, he feels less anxious. Man doesn't know what to do all day but looks at the time and knows it's half eleven so that'll be free flow, or it's after six so they'll be on bang-up.’ He turns and paces another width of the room. ‘In bed man can't sleep because it's too quiet.'
He turns on his heel, his trainers squeaking on the floor. He keeps pacing. 'Someone bumps into him on the tube platform and doesn't say sorry and he thinks, "If you knew, mate, if you knew what I was in for" - nobody would diss him like that on the landing. In the end man misses jail, gets nostalgic for jail, wants to go back.'
Easton continues, Nostalgia ain't an illness, but nostalgia for jail, that's illness. If you are homesick for prison that means prison has become your home,' [another prisoner] Anthony says. Easton takes a couple more strides, points at Anthony with his two fingers. ‘Being homesick for prison is missing something sick.'
‘So if homesickne-’
‘Man that misses jail isn't homesick, he's sick-sick.' He stops in the corner of the room and turns to me. 'Prison's not my home, I don't live here. He jabs two fingers in the middle of his own chest. ‘This isn't me. Me is who I am on the outside, me is who I'll be when I leave.’
For most of my life I’ve felt that my being free and well meant I owed a debt to my brother. Over these last months I’ve been trying to picture my life without that debt … Recently I’ve been more easily delighted by things like birdsong, the dappled light in the shadow of a tree and the smell of a fruit as I peel it in the afternoon. In those seconds, the world feels real.His progress matters to us: “The dread passes. A tiny euphoria floats up in my chest. The green of the leaves looks one shade brighter”. While, at the same time, the sword of Damocles remains hanging above his head. “Over the next few weeks my anxiety is quieter and easier to let go of. I know it will get more intense against at some point, but for now I’ve decided I’m going to enjoy this reprieve”.