Explores the bleach-scented, dizzyingly over-lit world of a supermarket’s aisles, as austerity makes everyone within the store’s walls poorer.
Have you felt the daily thumbscrew of restacking shelves in a supermarket? Have you ever lost yourself in the aisles?
Set during 2013 and 2014, in those halcyon days when austerity was really gaining momentum, the novel interweaves the lives of downtrodden supermarket workers with political, social, and architectural histories of the time, reminding us of the habits and trappings of consumerism at the beginning of the last decade, all under the glaring, antiseptic lights of Tesco’s flagship superstore.
The protagonist, a young man who has moved to London to pursue a passion for studying literature, must take up work at this store to support himself, and must sofa surf until he can afford a room of his own somewhere in the city. While he moves from sofa to sofa, while he works at the store, and while he struggles to find the time to write and read, he experiences perhaps the biggest horror of capitalist Waste. After every shift he is instructed to throw all of the unsold salads and pastas and olives and fruit into enormous industrial skips hidden in the supermarket warehouse. This soon becomes a daily assault on his conscience, and on the ecology of the landfill to which the waste is subsequently sent.
And throughout all of this, he remains nameless, never receiving a nametag of his own, so is forced to wear the names of ex-employees. He gradually comes to embody them all, losing himself again and again along the aisles.
’On Astrocity Tower's porch, the doorman shelters from the gathered snow. He eyes me noncommittally as I bang my boots and pass through the revolving doors. They spin automatically. I'm sure that part of the doorman's stern vibe is that automation of this kind threatens his profession, just as self-service checkouts threaten Tesco staff. They should unionise: Doormen And Checkout Allied Union. DACHAU. Maybe not’
I really do think the above quote summarises the vibes of A Working Title I Want to Change, a satirically witty literary novel that follows a 23-year-old unnamed Masters student who is homeless and works at Tesco. A premise that initially caught me off guard and desperate to read it, the experience I had with this book ended up being pretty polarising.
On the one hand it was brilliant. It has wonderfully British working-class humour, and took so much of what made 2013 such a strange year for our country. The amount of times I was able to laugh at a joke purely because ‘hey, I got that reference!’ was outstanding, and I had an absolute ball thinking about that period of my life. I don’t think anyone but a Brit could properly enjoy this story, and while that may be to its overall detriment, it certainly wasn’t to me. I think the slow decline of the main characters mental health was well done, and I have boundless sympathy for him. I also think the ending was brilliant, with such a clever final chapter. For the authors debut, they should certainly be proud of what they’ve accomplished here.
My issues with A Working Title I Want to Change are mainly to do with its structure. The pacing was completely wrong - it could have had a good 100-150 pages removed for a far more streamlined and impactful story. I do understand that the protagonist was meant to be spiralling and someone who spent a lot of time going on academic tangents in his mind, but that does not make for a good reading experience, even if it made sense character-wise. I also think some of that extended word count could have been spent fleshing-out the few side characters of note, particularly Alby. It, for the most part, felt like the protagonist was the only real ‘person’ in the story, and that made for a quite uninteresting plot at times. In my opinion focus was misplaced, with a little too much on style over substance.
Overall, A Working Title I Want to Change is a fascinating and utterly unique ‘period piece’ on living in Britain in the early 2010s - through the scope of some clever humour - that could have been improved through a few cuts and reworks. 3.5/5 stars rounded down to 3/5 stars for Netgalley and Goodreads.
It also happens to be my 50th book reviewed for Netgalley! That fact hasn’t impacted my review, but I thought it would be nice to mention.
thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for an e-arc in exchange for an honest review! <3
Between precarious living arrangements and the Kensington Tesco superstore, the unnamed narrator of ‘A Working Title’ navigates their daily existence in a hostile, coalition-era London, where common humanity is relegated to the fringes and cracks of austerity Britain.
Nothing embodies the absurdity of this system like the Tesco’s where the narrator works. The satire of supermarkets is genuinely funny - especially if you have worked in one - and helps to blunt what is otherwise a bleak book.
Unfortunately - after too many Kalamata olives perhaps - the book is bloated and lacks a sense of direction. Yes, I can see the lack of plot is probably the point but god it’s frustrating. Anyway, I’d say it’s worth a read for those who have had to wheel out cages onto the shop floor, only to be asked moments later to put them away again.
I can't help but wonder what Tesco will make of this book.
A Working Title I Want to Change is a sharp, satirical literary novel set in coalition-era London, following an unnamed 23-year-old Masters student who is homeless, struggling to stay afloat and working at a Tesco superstore.
It's an intriguing premise and one that immediately caught my attention, particularly as someone who remembers the strange, frustrating atmosphere of Britain in the early 2010s.
What the novel does exceptionally well is capture a very specific time and place.
The humour is wonderfully British, dry and often absurd, and many of the observations about working life, austerity and the everyday indignities of modern existence really hit home.
Anyone who has ever worked in retail will likely recognise the supermarket scenes, which are among the strongest parts of the book. The satire of corporate culture and the repetitive nature of supermarket work is genuinely funny and provides some welcome relief from what is otherwise a fairly bleak story.
The novel also does a convincing job of portraying the protagonist's deteriorating mental health. As his circumstances become increasingly precarious, there is a growing sense of isolation and hopelessness that feels authentic and affecting.
I found myself having a great deal of sympathy for him, even when his thought processes became increasingly frustrating to follow.
Unfortunately, this is where my main issues with the book begin.
While I understand that the lack of a conventional plot is largely intentional, I found the novel far too meandering for its own good.
The protagonist spends much of the book lost in lengthy academic tangents and internal monologues, which certainly fit his character but don't always make for engaging reading which made me reluctant to pick this book up again.
There were numerous points where I felt the story could have benefited from tighter editing. Removing some of the repetition and streamlining the narrative would have created a much stronger and more impactful novel.
I also struggled with the lack of development among the supporting cast. Characters such as Alby showed promise but never felt fully realised.
For much of the story, it felt as though the protagonist was the only person occupying the page, which made the story feel somewhat one-dimensional despite the richness of its social commentary.
That said, I admired what the author was trying to achieve. The writing is intelligent, observant and often very funny, and there is a confidence here that suggests a promising literary voice.
The final chapters in particular are excellent, bringing together many of the novel's themes in a clever and satisfying way. The ending left a much stronger impression on me than some of the slower sections that came before it.
Overall, A Working Title I Want to Change is an ambitious and witty debut that offers an insightful snapshot of austerity Britain.
While the humour, social commentary and setting worked brilliantly for me, the pacing and lack of narrative focus prevented me from fully connecting with the story.
With thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.