Set in contemporary Manchester this story is about a lad who was on the books at City but got injured and never made it. It is a coming of age tale, and the first part of a trilogy.
Either this is an attempt to give the impression of being an amateurish semi-autobiographical story of a total wanker or it just is an amateurish semi-autobiographical story of a total wanker. I can't decide, I know I wasn't overly enamoured of Campbell's style, reminding me of high school creative writing attempts, and even if that was the point with all his name dropping of other semi-autobiographical works I can't give anyone the benefit of the doubt who thinks that wind farms are unattractive. Sure I was hoping for something little more Sillitoe or Barstow, and maybe that's on me but the best part of this novel is that it was a very quick disposable read.
One of the most successful elements of this novel is the way its most obvious subject matter – football, manual labour, boozing, sex – and almost offhand prose lead you to believe you have the measure of its narrator, only to encounter an aside or observation – about ornithology, architecture, literature etc – that shows you don’t. And then to repeat the trick. It is, in its own way, quite a subversive text.
This was unexpectedly brilliant - it was an impulse buy during the May 2018 Salt campaign. I won't describe the blurb, but this 100% does it justice in feeling like it is written almost as a "stream of conciousness" (especially because of the way you can greedily read it) but is far more detailed and considered than that would assume. Magical, second book already ordered.
First met Neil at the end of last year at the spoken word open mic night I co-run 'Speak Easy' in Chorlton Cum Hardy and his words have a tone in them that are gritty but tender often in the same breath.
Fast forward to the start of this year and I did a Podcast 'Spoken Label' with Neil (https://spokenlabel.bandcamp.com/albu... and all of the usual places) where he mentioned this book in passing and interested I picked this up a month or two later and the best praise is it made me revisit an unfinished similar kind of gritty book also set in Manchester with a very Charles Bukowski (I guess) loner and his struggles on the outskirts of society.
Whether you would like it if you didn't know the areas you talked about is open to debate but I loved it and recommend it.
A laconic, unflinching and heartfelt account of dashed dreams, working-class life and a procession of unsavoury encounters. We follow the protagonist in picaresque fashion from job to job, sordid deed to sordid deed, street to street through Manchester's urban milieu. Campbell is a faithful psychogeographer of the city's underbelly, chronicling pubs, street names, shops, people and landmarks. The text proceeds via a series of vignettes lending insight into working factory life, writing, the nameless narrator's childhood and his alienation as he tries to put down roots in a society so intent on pulling them out.
A frank, raw and visceral story which those from a working class background will relate to.
At times uncomfortable and yet compelling, Campbell lets us peer into the protagonist’s mind and daily struggles. This reads almost like a stream of consciousness diary of degradation with some great comic moments.
There are some childhood flashbacks which I suspect are the more autobiographical elements of the story and to which I could relate. Who doesn’t remember garden hopping? Or was that a Mancunian thing?
Looking forward to reading the next instalment. Zero Hours.
I really enjoyed this. Loved the Manchester setting and the references to how places change as they become more 'gentrified'. Has one of the bext opening lines ever in a novel and I'm really looking forward to reading the second book of the trilogy, 'Zero Hours'.