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Out Backward
Sam Marsdyke is a lonely young man, dogged by an incident in his past and forced to work his family farm instead of attending school in his Yorkshire village. He methodically fills his life with daily routines and adheres to strict boundaries that keep him at a remove from the townspeople. But one day he spies Josephine, his new neighbor from London. From that moment on, Sam's carefully constructed protections begin to crumble—and what starts off as a harmless friendship between an isolated loner and a defiant teenage girl takes a most disturbing turn.
210 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2008
59 people are currently reading
2788 people want to read
About the author
Ross Raisin
12 books82 followersRoss Raisin is a British novelist. He was born in Keighley in Yorkshire, and after attending Bradford Grammar School he studied English at King's College London, which was followed by a period as a trainee wine bar manager and a postgraduate degree in creative writing at Goldsmiths, University of London.
Raisin's debut novel God's Own Country (titled Out Backward in North America) was published in 2008. It was shortlisted for the Guardian First Book Award and the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize, and won a Betty Trask Award. The novel focuses on Sam Marsdyke, a disturbed adolescent living in a harsh rural environment, and follows his journey from isolated oddity to outright insanity. Thomas Meaney in The Washington Post compared the novel favorably to Anthony Burgess's A Clockwork Orange, and said «Out Backward more convincingly registers the internal logic of unredeemable delinquency.» Writing in The Guardian Justine Jordan described the novel as «an absorbing read», which marked Raisin out as «a young writer to watch». In April 2009 the book won Raisin the Sunday Times Young Writer of the Year Award. He is currently a writer-in-residence for the charity First Story.
In 2013 he was included in the Granta list of 20 best young writers.
Raisin has worked as a waiter, dishwasher and barman.
Raisin's debut novel God's Own Country (titled Out Backward in North America) was published in 2008. It was shortlisted for the Guardian First Book Award and the John Llewellyn Rhys Prize, and won a Betty Trask Award. The novel focuses on Sam Marsdyke, a disturbed adolescent living in a harsh rural environment, and follows his journey from isolated oddity to outright insanity. Thomas Meaney in The Washington Post compared the novel favorably to Anthony Burgess's A Clockwork Orange, and said «Out Backward more convincingly registers the internal logic of unredeemable delinquency.» Writing in The Guardian Justine Jordan described the novel as «an absorbing read», which marked Raisin out as «a young writer to watch». In April 2009 the book won Raisin the Sunday Times Young Writer of the Year Award. He is currently a writer-in-residence for the charity First Story.
In 2013 he was included in the Granta list of 20 best young writers.
Raisin has worked as a waiter, dishwasher and barman.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 207 reviews
July 9, 2015
Sometimes, when I read a really good book, the subsequent review practically writes itself. I normally start the first draft of a review when I'm halfway through a book; occasionally even earlier. If I absolutely LOVED the book, you'd think this would be easier. Yet it's been days since I finished God's Own Country and I haven't yet written a word about it. Why the delay? In part, it could be because I just know it's going to be difficult to do this book justice. My initial response upon finishing it was to write: 'Wow, just wow', and I'm tempted to leave it at that. But if I'm to convince others it's worth reading, I suppose I have to explain why it wowed me in a little more detail, so I will give it my best shot.
The story is narrated in North Yorkshire dialect by Sam Marsdyke, a 19-year-old farmer's son. Having been expelled from school several years before, he has withdrawn into a world of his own making; he spends his days working on the farm with his brutal father, walking the wild moors with his sheepdog, and terrorising unsuspecting ramblers and 'towns' (Sam's word for the rich families who are slowly but surely buying up the surrounding farms). With no friends or even acquaintances of his own age, Sam lavishes attention on the puppies and lambs at the farm, and frequently uses his vivid imagination to conjure up interaction between the people, and even the animals, around him. When a new family - well-off 'towns' from London - move into the farm next door, Sam develops something of a fixation with their young daughter (whose name is Jo, although she is almost always referred to as 'the girl' by Sam - a telling detail, as it turns out). The plot is woven around Sam's increasing sense of isolation and, concurrently, his escalating obsession with the girl. Without giving too much away, it all builds - subtly and with a heavy dose of black humour - to a startling and disturbing climax.
Rarely has a narrative voice been so convincing, so powerful, so ferociously REAL. At points during the time I spent reading this book, I found myself actually thinking in Sam's voice, which I don't think has ever happened before. It's revealed early on that Sam's expulsion from school was due to an accusation of rape, but rather than turning him into a repulsive character, Ross Raisin carefully dances around the issue - it isn't even that you necessarily believe Sam is innocent, but rather that he is painted as such a believable, complex character that it is impossible not to be drawn into his lonely world. He is often very funny and can be incredibly beguiling. His observations are twisted cleverly and are sometimes shocking; for example, he turns a description of two sheep mating into what seems to be an admission of guilt about the rape incident, and the wordplay here is so beautifully done that I had to read it several times and turn it over in my mind to grasp the real meaning. Sam is capable of astonishing cruelty, but shows affection and empathy towards the animals he cares for; he is clearly obsessive, but his fantasies about the girl are, more often than not, innocent and even quite sweet. In fact, it's Jo who initially appears to be the more manipulative and conniving of the two. Raisin encourages the reader to be on Sam's side, to perceive him as well-meaning even as his behaviour becomes ever more menacing and out of touch with reality.
There are many dramatic events in this story - particularly towards the end, which spirals into surreal confusion to the point that what appears to be a nightmare segues into the book's climax, reflecting Sam's damaged mental state. But really, it's all about Sam as a character, and the power of his unreliable narration. You probably know how much I like my bleak, black books, and God's Own Country certainly won't have the same appeal for every reader; it's intensely disturbing in parts. The idiomatic language might be off-putting to some, too. But if you can stomach all the slang and the dark turns the plot takes, it's breathtaking; the way the book draws you in until you're too rapt to look away seems to mirror Jo's involvement with Sam. Alongside Gillespie and I (a worthwhile comparison since, despite the very different settings and details, the two books share many traits) this masterful debut is one of the best books I've read all year.
The story is narrated in North Yorkshire dialect by Sam Marsdyke, a 19-year-old farmer's son. Having been expelled from school several years before, he has withdrawn into a world of his own making; he spends his days working on the farm with his brutal father, walking the wild moors with his sheepdog, and terrorising unsuspecting ramblers and 'towns' (Sam's word for the rich families who are slowly but surely buying up the surrounding farms). With no friends or even acquaintances of his own age, Sam lavishes attention on the puppies and lambs at the farm, and frequently uses his vivid imagination to conjure up interaction between the people, and even the animals, around him. When a new family - well-off 'towns' from London - move into the farm next door, Sam develops something of a fixation with their young daughter (whose name is Jo, although she is almost always referred to as 'the girl' by Sam - a telling detail, as it turns out). The plot is woven around Sam's increasing sense of isolation and, concurrently, his escalating obsession with the girl. Without giving too much away, it all builds - subtly and with a heavy dose of black humour - to a startling and disturbing climax.
Rarely has a narrative voice been so convincing, so powerful, so ferociously REAL. At points during the time I spent reading this book, I found myself actually thinking in Sam's voice, which I don't think has ever happened before. It's revealed early on that Sam's expulsion from school was due to an accusation of rape, but rather than turning him into a repulsive character, Ross Raisin carefully dances around the issue - it isn't even that you necessarily believe Sam is innocent, but rather that he is painted as such a believable, complex character that it is impossible not to be drawn into his lonely world. He is often very funny and can be incredibly beguiling. His observations are twisted cleverly and are sometimes shocking; for example, he turns a description of two sheep mating into what seems to be an admission of guilt about the rape incident, and the wordplay here is so beautifully done that I had to read it several times and turn it over in my mind to grasp the real meaning. Sam is capable of astonishing cruelty, but shows affection and empathy towards the animals he cares for; he is clearly obsessive, but his fantasies about the girl are, more often than not, innocent and even quite sweet. In fact, it's Jo who initially appears to be the more manipulative and conniving of the two. Raisin encourages the reader to be on Sam's side, to perceive him as well-meaning even as his behaviour becomes ever more menacing and out of touch with reality.
There are many dramatic events in this story - particularly towards the end, which spirals into surreal confusion to the point that what appears to be a nightmare segues into the book's climax, reflecting Sam's damaged mental state. But really, it's all about Sam as a character, and the power of his unreliable narration. You probably know how much I like my bleak, black books, and God's Own Country certainly won't have the same appeal for every reader; it's intensely disturbing in parts. The idiomatic language might be off-putting to some, too. But if you can stomach all the slang and the dark turns the plot takes, it's breathtaking; the way the book draws you in until you're too rapt to look away seems to mirror Jo's involvement with Sam. Alongside Gillespie and I (a worthwhile comparison since, despite the very different settings and details, the two books share many traits) this masterful debut is one of the best books I've read all year.
August 2, 2014
I first saw this book advertised in a magazine afew months ago, but only caught a glimpse of the cover with neither the author nor title - and was trying to find it since, as that cover image stuck in my head. I had no idea what the book was about, but I was looking for it - and if not for Goodreads I'd probably never have found it. Now tell me that covers don't sell books!
The book in question was God's Own Country, debut of the English writer Ross Raisin, which has been nominated for several prizes and apparently caused quite a stir when it came out, drawing comparison to A Clockwork Orange and The Catcher in the Rye. Who would have thought I'd stumble upon such a treat?
The novel tells the story of and is narrated by Sam Marsdyke, a young man living with his family on a farm somewhere on the edge of the North Yorkshire moors. Having been expelled from school, farm life is pretty much the only reality that Sam knows - he has no friends or acquaintances his age, and often uses imagines conversations between people and animals - obligatorily full of North Yorkshire dialect. Sam's favorite pastime is walking around the moors and absorbing the atmosphere and beauty of the countryside, to which he feels a deep attachment. He absolutely loathes "towns" - rich people from big cities who slowly buy up farms surrounding his own. Sam think that they have no connection and respect for the moors, and shouldn't be there - that they're only interested in having a post-card view from their windows. He stays away and doesn't want to talk to these people, but takes a delight in terrorizing them from a distance. But all that changes when a well-off London family moves to the farm next door to Sam's, and his sense of isolation turns into a growing obsession with their young daughter.
Sam's compassion and devotion for the world around him is admirable, even though he as a character might not entirely be - he is obsessive and can be sadistic but also innocent and very naive at times. The decay of many farm and mill-towns and the disappearance of a traditional country way of life due to urbanization and globalization are very real issues not limited to England, but most of the world - in several decades families like Sam's - people born, bred and raised in the country, on a small patch of land - will be bordering on extinction, if they won't disappear sooner. It's easy to sympathize with Sam, who leads a harsh life in an often unforgiving land, and who sees how his entire existence is threatened by approaching change.
That being said, God's Own Country reminded me heavily of Patrick McCabe's The Butcher Boy, which I also read recently and liked very much. It's weird, because while The Butcher Boy features no real plot to speak of I was drawn to and moved by Francie's voice, and consider him to be a character strong enough to carry the book on his own. While I certainly appreciate Ross Raisin's writing and Sam's literary voice, I ultimately felt that the novel was predictable and lacked a surprising element which would make it memorable. It's not a bad book - I just think that it lost a bit of attraction for me because I read it so soon after finishing iThe Butcher Boy. Which one I'd recommend if any sounds interesting? - both, and see which one you'd like better! That's only fair, is it?
The book in question was God's Own Country, debut of the English writer Ross Raisin, which has been nominated for several prizes and apparently caused quite a stir when it came out, drawing comparison to A Clockwork Orange and The Catcher in the Rye. Who would have thought I'd stumble upon such a treat?
The novel tells the story of and is narrated by Sam Marsdyke, a young man living with his family on a farm somewhere on the edge of the North Yorkshire moors. Having been expelled from school, farm life is pretty much the only reality that Sam knows - he has no friends or acquaintances his age, and often uses imagines conversations between people and animals - obligatorily full of North Yorkshire dialect. Sam's favorite pastime is walking around the moors and absorbing the atmosphere and beauty of the countryside, to which he feels a deep attachment. He absolutely loathes "towns" - rich people from big cities who slowly buy up farms surrounding his own. Sam think that they have no connection and respect for the moors, and shouldn't be there - that they're only interested in having a post-card view from their windows. He stays away and doesn't want to talk to these people, but takes a delight in terrorizing them from a distance. But all that changes when a well-off London family moves to the farm next door to Sam's, and his sense of isolation turns into a growing obsession with their young daughter.
Sam's compassion and devotion for the world around him is admirable, even though he as a character might not entirely be - he is obsessive and can be sadistic but also innocent and very naive at times. The decay of many farm and mill-towns and the disappearance of a traditional country way of life due to urbanization and globalization are very real issues not limited to England, but most of the world - in several decades families like Sam's - people born, bred and raised in the country, on a small patch of land - will be bordering on extinction, if they won't disappear sooner. It's easy to sympathize with Sam, who leads a harsh life in an often unforgiving land, and who sees how his entire existence is threatened by approaching change.
That being said, God's Own Country reminded me heavily of Patrick McCabe's The Butcher Boy, which I also read recently and liked very much. It's weird, because while The Butcher Boy features no real plot to speak of I was drawn to and moved by Francie's voice, and consider him to be a character strong enough to carry the book on his own. While I certainly appreciate Ross Raisin's writing and Sam's literary voice, I ultimately felt that the novel was predictable and lacked a surprising element which would make it memorable. It's not a bad book - I just think that it lost a bit of attraction for me because I read it so soon after finishing iThe Butcher Boy. Which one I'd recommend if any sounds interesting? - both, and see which one you'd like better! That's only fair, is it?
April 3, 2012
I appreciated what the author was trying to do here, but I didn't necessarily enjoy reading this book. To be fair, I'm not sure how much my entertainment level should affect the amount of stars, but I felt a certain level of ambivalence while reading the story...and I kinda detected that the author either had or struggled with that ambivalence while writing this.
It's saying something that I liked reading the author’s interview and an additional essay in the back of the book more than the actual novel. And, may I add, is this a new marketing ploy by publishing houses to put somewhat attractive writers' pictures on their books? Because as much as I don't want to admit it, it is intriguing to see a good-looking author's photo, especially when it's associated with a pretty creepy story.
The book is in the voice of a pretty disturbed boy, who I actually liked, until his actions veered into criminal territory. I usually like novels that are set in "hinterland" areas, such as rural England. This book made me see that farm country in the Western world is universally similar. But I don't know if making the kid mentally ill and violent was a great representation of young farmers, a choice which the author comments on in his interview.
The writing makes you both mourn the loss of small farming as well as wish it good riddance. The story seems to suggest that this kind of life (with its unbridled exposure to death and other unsavory animalistic elements) isn't really good for anybody. I don't have that much experience with farm life—although I did spend a few years in Iowa—but I don't really buy that farm life is super brutal and emotionally unhealthy for everyone in it.
So, while I liked the author's voice and the subject of the book, I really wish different choices had been made. I think a more loving, but no less three-dimensional, approach to some of the characters would've made a more poignant novel.
It's saying something that I liked reading the author’s interview and an additional essay in the back of the book more than the actual novel. And, may I add, is this a new marketing ploy by publishing houses to put somewhat attractive writers' pictures on their books? Because as much as I don't want to admit it, it is intriguing to see a good-looking author's photo, especially when it's associated with a pretty creepy story.
The book is in the voice of a pretty disturbed boy, who I actually liked, until his actions veered into criminal territory. I usually like novels that are set in "hinterland" areas, such as rural England. This book made me see that farm country in the Western world is universally similar. But I don't know if making the kid mentally ill and violent was a great representation of young farmers, a choice which the author comments on in his interview.
The writing makes you both mourn the loss of small farming as well as wish it good riddance. The story seems to suggest that this kind of life (with its unbridled exposure to death and other unsavory animalistic elements) isn't really good for anybody. I don't have that much experience with farm life—although I did spend a few years in Iowa—but I don't really buy that farm life is super brutal and emotionally unhealthy for everyone in it.
So, while I liked the author's voice and the subject of the book, I really wish different choices had been made. I think a more loving, but no less three-dimensional, approach to some of the characters would've made a more poignant novel.
April 29, 2019
I don't want to say too much about this, because I was completely blown over at the sinister and disturbing direction this book eventually took. Sam Marsdyke is a 19-year-old farmer's son living in the North Yorkshire Moors. His life revolves around the land and the animals, and the novel's beginning builds on the young man's growing sense of isolation and disconnect with any other human being. From the very first page, the reader is struck by just how powerful and real Sam's voice is. This a shining example of how to write in first person narration. Sam's voice uses a broad Yorkshire accent combined with his witty and terribly funny. It is so unique and absorbing, I even found myself thinking in his way a couple of times after putting the book down, which is pretty disturbing with how the book develops later on... Even though it is clear from the start that Sam is capable of terrible cruelty and is deluded in his ideas about reality and his place in it, I still wasn't quite expecting the direction it took. I enjoyed how chaotic Sam's narrative was, alongside the commentary on the demise of rural life and just how harsh and relentless farming is. So smart and all its own, I don't think I've ever read a contemporary novel quite like it. Recommended.
July 22, 2016
This is the story of Sam Marsdyke who is a 19 year old farmer in the Yorkshire countryside.
He has come to despise the 'towns' and having been expelled from school is resigned to his life on the farm with his mum and dad and the sheep.
This is an intimate look at the life Sam endures and what he desires from inside his small world.
It is an excellent character study which is very different from anything I've read before.
I got a real sense of the beautiful countryside up against the starkness and reality of actually making a life there.
If you want action and fast pace do not read this book.
If you like a slow burner that is rich in description and insight read this book!
EDIT - I just listened to Fool on the Hill by the Beatles and that is this book - amazing
He has come to despise the 'towns' and having been expelled from school is resigned to his life on the farm with his mum and dad and the sheep.
This is an intimate look at the life Sam endures and what he desires from inside his small world.
It is an excellent character study which is very different from anything I've read before.
I got a real sense of the beautiful countryside up against the starkness and reality of actually making a life there.
If you want action and fast pace do not read this book.
If you like a slow burner that is rich in description and insight read this book!
EDIT - I just listened to Fool on the Hill by the Beatles and that is this book - amazing
May 6, 2024
I came across this book because the author is this year's judge for The Bridport First Novel Prize, which I'm going in for this year, and holy crap, this book is just fantastic. It honestly has one of the best 1st person narrative voices I've ever read. It's up there with Demon Copperhead, but instead of West Virginian, the voice is from the desolate North Yorkshire moors in the UK. I was captivated from page one, because our narrators voice is utterly unique, ridiculously absorbing, and absolutely unrelenting. The feeling of the prose reminded me of The Whale Tattoo crossed with The Wasp Factory, but also managed to be completely unique in its own way. This book is one of those wonderfully troubling books, because I felt sooo much for Sam Marsdyke, our poor, lonely 19 year old protagonist - even when he started slipping off the rails - so by the end, when it becomes clear that he is a serious and ongoing danger to society (and women especially lol) I felt like I needed my own head examined. Utterly fearless, unsettling and essential writing on every level, I can see why this book was lauded back in 2008, and to find out that this was his debut, just absolutely blew my mind, for the prose is just that assured. This is one of those books that manages to be proper laugh-out-loud hilarious and utterly shocking within a single paragraph, and I swear the narrative voice is so pervasive that for days, I ended up thinking and talking like our protagonist. This is some real transgressive literature right here, not like that try-hard, I'm-only-here-to-be-as-shocking-as-possible stuff you get from certain presses in the the US that shall remain nameless. This is a beautifully written, powerful, insidious and gloriously perverse transgression- a slow-boil, gradually unfolding tragedy that will no doubt leave me haunted for weeks to come. For fans of absurd creativity, extremely troubling narrators and working class landscapes. Oh, and grey areas. Vast, strange, disturbing grey areas. Highly recommended!
Read
August 3, 2011On the back cover of "God's own country", amongst the usual praise for a "wonderfully unique" debut novel I read "very funny and very disturbing". To be honest, I never really laughed once but agree that it is a deeply disturbing book that you just can't put down.
All through the read I couldn't shut off this feeling of dread of what the budding association of "lankenstein" aka "bogeyman" aka Sam Marsdyke and the newly moved "towns'" daughter will end in. As he is the hero of the novel one wants to believe that all allegations about him are false and are just a result of him being branded early in his youth as a nimrod and rapist. Not a reputation that is easily shaken in the moors of small town England.
It was a chilling read and makes me want to reread some classics such as Harper Lee's "To kill a Mockingbird", Camus' "Stranger" and John Steinbeck's "Of mice and men" and rethink the question of morality and what makes it so.
All through the read I couldn't shut off this feeling of dread of what the budding association of "lankenstein" aka "bogeyman" aka Sam Marsdyke and the newly moved "towns'" daughter will end in. As he is the hero of the novel one wants to believe that all allegations about him are false and are just a result of him being branded early in his youth as a nimrod and rapist. Not a reputation that is easily shaken in the moors of small town England.
It was a chilling read and makes me want to reread some classics such as Harper Lee's "To kill a Mockingbird", Camus' "Stranger" and John Steinbeck's "Of mice and men" and rethink the question of morality and what makes it so.
May 28, 2013
The blurb on the cover of this book is spot on! It is both amusing and at the same time dark and disturbing.
There's no doubt about it, the writing is superbly done. How else could I have found such a disturbed individual as the main character so likeable? For the largest part of the book I found myself sympathising with his viewpoint and, even as it became clear there was something more sinister going on, I still felt that it wasn't all entirely his fault.
While reading I felt that a subtext to the story was very much the theme of cultural changes to the countryside and the effects on the agricultural community and this, I thought, was very well observed through the eyes of Sam, the main character.
In short, this was a very clever and unique piece of writing, even though the story at times made me feel more than a little uncomfortable. And I can't help wondering how easy it was to read for anyone unfamiliar with the North Yorkshire dialect!
There's no doubt about it, the writing is superbly done. How else could I have found such a disturbed individual as the main character so likeable? For the largest part of the book I found myself sympathising with his viewpoint and, even as it became clear there was something more sinister going on, I still felt that it wasn't all entirely his fault.
While reading I felt that a subtext to the story was very much the theme of cultural changes to the countryside and the effects on the agricultural community and this, I thought, was very well observed through the eyes of Sam, the main character.
In short, this was a very clever and unique piece of writing, even though the story at times made me feel more than a little uncomfortable. And I can't help wondering how easy it was to read for anyone unfamiliar with the North Yorkshire dialect!
January 14, 2024
had a while to think about it and think this is one of the most disturbing books I've ever read (complimentary)
March 8, 2011
started this on the train this morning and loving it already. Sharp, funny writing. Takes the piss out of ramblers (Gods Own Country being Yorkshire of course): 'Daft sods in pink and green hats' - I laugh the laugh of recognition - that's me.
...enjoyed this, the charm of the (unreliable, slighty bonkers) young narrator wins you over immediately. Bit like the 'Butcher Boy' you're drawn in by his jokey style, his use of dialect, his love of animals and nature. All the animals talk, sheep, dogs, worms, gentle conversations with him as opposed to the human world of anger and fear and misunderstandings. Very subtly done, to draw you in like this and gradually expose the lad's other side - viciousness, obsession - and still have you rooting for him until you realise the nature of his crimes and start backpedalling.
The language is great, on every page there's a dialect word or two to get your head round, take these passages all from a couple of pages:
the bone-idle nazzart
happy to sell it fast as a rabbit's fart, just for a quick packet. Norman's father never had much brass, no matter the land was gradely and he could keep dairy, for he was a doylem.
outside a pub being done up for the influx of 'towns' a mighty yellow skip in the car park, slowly filling with manky articles of furniture - pictures and trunklements off the wall, chairs, tables, bar buffits reeking with 50 years of smoke, spilt ale.
I just love 'glishy', describing a healthy dog's coat, or new red houses, all bright and glishy like a piece of flesh with the skin torn off.
The prose is invigorating and comic, with the odd punch in the ribs. I take my pink and green hat off to you, sir.
...enjoyed this, the charm of the (unreliable, slighty bonkers) young narrator wins you over immediately. Bit like the 'Butcher Boy' you're drawn in by his jokey style, his use of dialect, his love of animals and nature. All the animals talk, sheep, dogs, worms, gentle conversations with him as opposed to the human world of anger and fear and misunderstandings. Very subtly done, to draw you in like this and gradually expose the lad's other side - viciousness, obsession - and still have you rooting for him until you realise the nature of his crimes and start backpedalling.
The language is great, on every page there's a dialect word or two to get your head round, take these passages all from a couple of pages:
the bone-idle nazzart
happy to sell it fast as a rabbit's fart, just for a quick packet. Norman's father never had much brass, no matter the land was gradely and he could keep dairy, for he was a doylem.
outside a pub being done up for the influx of 'towns' a mighty yellow skip in the car park, slowly filling with manky articles of furniture - pictures and trunklements off the wall, chairs, tables, bar buffits reeking with 50 years of smoke, spilt ale.
I just love 'glishy', describing a healthy dog's coat, or new red houses, all bright and glishy like a piece of flesh with the skin torn off.
The prose is invigorating and comic, with the odd punch in the ribs. I take my pink and green hat off to you, sir.
October 31, 2019
Superbly written, viciously funny, dark and disturbing, God's Own Country tells the story of Sam Marsdyke, a young farmer in Yorkshire.
Sam narrates the book and is a hugely entertaining voice. It's hard not to warm to Sam, thanks to his love of animals and nature, and his acerbic wit on ramblers, "towns" (people from towns) and other assorted targets.
However, he's also a very unreliable narrator. He recounts past accusations made about him in a way that suggests innocence, but as the novel progresses it becomes clear there is a darkness and violence in Sam. The laughter fades, and the book becomes ever more ominous as it spirals to its conclusion.
An impressive debut featuring a memorable narrator.
Sam narrates the book and is a hugely entertaining voice. It's hard not to warm to Sam, thanks to his love of animals and nature, and his acerbic wit on ramblers, "towns" (people from towns) and other assorted targets.
However, he's also a very unreliable narrator. He recounts past accusations made about him in a way that suggests innocence, but as the novel progresses it becomes clear there is a darkness and violence in Sam. The laughter fades, and the book becomes ever more ominous as it spirals to its conclusion.
An impressive debut featuring a memorable narrator.
November 3, 2008
A strange and unusual book, written in the broad Yorkshire dialect, easy enough to pick up as you go along. The author has certainly done his research. A young boy is accused of something he didn’t actually do and is kicked out of school. He must work at the home farm and forget about education. When we come into his story he is about 19 years old. Downtrodden and a town misfit, he lives an eventful life within his own mind. The story is sometimes humorous, often deceptive, and somewhat depressing. He has separated himself from everyone in the village and when not working on the sheep farm, is wandering his beloved moors with his favorite dog..
One day a “townie” family moves in next door, with a 15 year old daughter who doesn’t appear to have any qualms about being with or being seen with Sam, in fact she encourages that they be seen together. The book is written mostly from the imagination of the boy. He “talks” mostly in his mind to objects animate and inanimate and his mind contrives stories and make-believe conversations. The concept is interesting, a little hard to grasp at times but usually becomes clear as time goes on. The reader gets a feeling for the boy, and it seems he is often accused of things he has not necessarily done. A row between the girl next door and her mother leads to a mad dash across the moors for both Sam and Josephine where Sam feels entirely at home. Though the town believes him to be backward, he is knowledgeable on a number of planes and I feel that his life could easily have been very different, which is disconcerting and depressing to realize. Reading this book I felt a sense of person and place which took on a life of its own. Interesting, sometimes brooding, occasionally humorous, often deceptive, and definitely not boring though a little slow to read, an unusual subject for a debut novel. I would not recommend this book to someone who likes their books cut and dried, but I would recommend it to anyone who likes to delve into the whys and wherefores of life and the mind of the unusual.
One day a “townie” family moves in next door, with a 15 year old daughter who doesn’t appear to have any qualms about being with or being seen with Sam, in fact she encourages that they be seen together. The book is written mostly from the imagination of the boy. He “talks” mostly in his mind to objects animate and inanimate and his mind contrives stories and make-believe conversations. The concept is interesting, a little hard to grasp at times but usually becomes clear as time goes on. The reader gets a feeling for the boy, and it seems he is often accused of things he has not necessarily done. A row between the girl next door and her mother leads to a mad dash across the moors for both Sam and Josephine where Sam feels entirely at home. Though the town believes him to be backward, he is knowledgeable on a number of planes and I feel that his life could easily have been very different, which is disconcerting and depressing to realize. Reading this book I felt a sense of person and place which took on a life of its own. Interesting, sometimes brooding, occasionally humorous, often deceptive, and definitely not boring though a little slow to read, an unusual subject for a debut novel. I would not recommend this book to someone who likes their books cut and dried, but I would recommend it to anyone who likes to delve into the whys and wherefores of life and the mind of the unusual.
May 22, 2009
This is a striking first novel that combines a racy story line (which one isn’t quite sure is all in the main protagonist’s head) with some wonderful Yorkshire phrases (which one cannot be entirely sure are utter fiction or not) and some beautifully descriptions of the North Yorkshire moors and farming life in general.
That seemingly least offensive breed of people, ramblers, come in for some enjoyably sharp criticism and the unwelcome influx of the middle classes into a rural community, complete with tomato coloured puffa jackets, is condemned with a strong lacing of humour. The book is most memorable, however, for the interior voice of Sam Marsdyke, a bored youth with a seam of cynicism running through him like a stick of Scarborough Rock. Always liable to behave in a self-destructive manner, he turns pretty scary towards the end and one is left continually muttering the words, “no, no, don’t do that!”
That seemingly least offensive breed of people, ramblers, come in for some enjoyably sharp criticism and the unwelcome influx of the middle classes into a rural community, complete with tomato coloured puffa jackets, is condemned with a strong lacing of humour. The book is most memorable, however, for the interior voice of Sam Marsdyke, a bored youth with a seam of cynicism running through him like a stick of Scarborough Rock. Always liable to behave in a self-destructive manner, he turns pretty scary towards the end and one is left continually muttering the words, “no, no, don’t do that!”
March 14, 2009
Enjoyed this very much - how cleverly I was drawn in from the very start into empathising with the main character, who despite being seemingly undeservedly marginalised in a close knit society, yet demanded my sympathies because of his humour and love of his natural surroundings. It was a very long way into the book before I stopped forgiving him misdemeanours and could stand back and realise the sinister path the author had led me on in backing him as the underdog.
I was also swallowed up by the moorland landscape along with Sam, the wild countryside of endless horizons seeming to offer him freedom from his unhappy small world, but at the same time reflecting his rapid decline into a crueller, more inhuman world.
Was totally absorbed by this book - it's dark and troubling, at times very funny, and has rather made me question my judgement of character!
I was also swallowed up by the moorland landscape along with Sam, the wild countryside of endless horizons seeming to offer him freedom from his unhappy small world, but at the same time reflecting his rapid decline into a crueller, more inhuman world.
Was totally absorbed by this book - it's dark and troubling, at times very funny, and has rather made me question my judgement of character!
April 6, 2012
Also called Out Backwards. Another book like Waterline that makes the line between someone who functions well in society and someone who's behavior is considered anti-social, dangerous or aggressive seem very thin. One can take the same clues from the environment that most of us agree to interpret in a similar way and tweak them a bit, reinterpret them, and come up with an entirely different view of the world. One realizes that behavior that might get someone jail time might not stem from intent to harm but from altered interpretation of facts. How could one determine which people truly intend to cause harm for thier own benefit and who does so just as a side effect of thier thought processes?
April 5, 2013
What is it about some debut novels from British men and disturbed unreliable narrators? There may be a thesis in there somewhere, if someone could be bothered to think it through! This book reminds me of a bunch of others (The Collector, The Wasp Factory and The Butcher Boy, although the latter isn’t a debut) but manages not to be derivative. The narrator is extremely engaging and I loved the evocation of the North Yorkshire countryside having visited there often. Some of the social commentary felt a little forced however, but that said the influence of the urban on the rural formed an effective backdrop to the main story. I would very much like to read the author’s second novel that came out last year.
April 1, 2013
God's Own Country is an extraordinary tale of delusion. Like the landscape and the characters it portrays, the narrative is menacing and uncomfortable. Ross Raisin writes with a unique style, blending plot, description, dialogue and thoughts in a melange of rambling copy. Mutterings of humour are expressed through the thick Yorkshire dialect of Sam Marsdyke's parochial world.
The reader's relationship with the main protagonist changes as the story progresses, and it becomes a gothic account of a hostile world impacting on a disturbed individual. It's one of those books that leaves the reader in deep thought and shadowy dreams long after the book is finished. A unique and engaging book.
The reader's relationship with the main protagonist changes as the story progresses, and it becomes a gothic account of a hostile world impacting on a disturbed individual. It's one of those books that leaves the reader in deep thought and shadowy dreams long after the book is finished. A unique and engaging book.
November 20, 2017
I had the audible version and have to say the narrator was quite brilliant and accounted for at least a star. It is a surreal journey in Sam's mind and the way he sees and wittily "talk" to his Moors. The feeling I had from this was a constant hanging between endearing and disturbing. But I could definitively relate to the Tomatoes!
February 21, 2022
This was an incredible book. I bought a signed copy on a whim from an independent bookshop whilst on holiday (Woodbridge Emporium, for those who want to know!), knowing nothing about it beforehand. The cover makes it look a little like it might be teen fiction. It's not! I was drawn to the description of it being 'disturbing'. I don't mind a little dark fiction now and again, and I wasn't disappointed. It's disturbing, unsettling, but also deliciously funny in places. The language is colloquial, but there's never really a need to look any of it up, one knows what is being said. And it's rare that I'd bother saying this, but it would be a great book club read, as there are various ways to analyse the character, attitudes, and mental state of the protagonist(s). A real discussion piece. It's beautifully written, sometimes switching mid paragraph between subject, but never jarring. The descriptions of landscape are heartfelt and conscise enough not to get in the way. It kept me engrossed in the way great fiction can. Recommended.
March 26, 2024
Disturbing doesn't even begin to cover it. Because you're almost tricked into thinking it's a quiet testimonial to the North York Moors and a decaying way of life. And Sam's narration gets so under your skin that when what happens happens, you're not so much horrified as deeply sad. How Sam's paranoia slowly spirals into psychosis when torn from the mundane routine of the farm and his animals. Absolutely chilling. But also strangely human.
Read
May 17, 2020DNF
The vernacular really started to grate on me, there were dark unnerving violent undertones from the beginning, Sam was a hateful character then and when he killed the chicken I decided I would rather dust the skirting boards
The vernacular really started to grate on me, there were dark unnerving violent undertones from the beginning, Sam was a hateful character then and when he killed the chicken I decided I would rather dust the skirting boards
November 17, 2021
An interesting read and insight into the mind of a dangerously unwell person. I like how the author described the setting of the Yorkshire Moors.
August 13, 2022
found out reading this that 'god's own country' is just what people call yorkshire . this was not the book of the film. still good tho!!!
March 10, 2024
It was good. Unsettling - narrative was very clever. Learnt some good British words. Interesting when you read a book and your relationship with the narrator changes through the story. Pretty well done.
September 28, 2013
To start with the superficial, I love the front cover on this book. So cool.
It's a book set in North Yorkshire with lots of lovely Yorkshire terms and dialect - horay! It's not called God's Own Country for nothing =). It is quite cool to read something set in such a local area, so much is familiar to me here. I love the North Yorkshire Moors. This story is narrated by Sam Marsdyke, and we're in his Yorkshire head for the whole ride, with some fantastic expressions and imagery. He's 19, lives on the farm where he grew up, with his mother and grumpy farmer father. He got bullied in school, accused of rape (it was a bit grey, especially considering the ending and just how naive and immature he was, it's hard to say if he was falsely accused or not) and is basically mocked by the local community. Everybody knows everyone else's business, so there is no escape for him. So he's a lonely little soul.
The old country community is gradually being worn away - local pubs are re done out; farms sold off not as going concerns, and people from outside buy up the properties, more often than not as holiday homes - this is a genuine and depressing problem, killing off communities, making property too expensive for locals to buy and turning these places into playgrounds. I've heard of some villages in Northumberland that have turned into ghost towns because they are essentially now nothing but second homes.
Just across from Sam's home, a family from London move in - permanent residents. The 15 year old daughter is going through her rebellious phase, not getting on with mother etc, and takes to visiting Sam. He does get played by women so easily... I know she's young and confussed and when she comes to him and says "let's run away" she really doesn't understand the mess she is creating for both of them. My heart really went out to him at that point, because you knew in 24 hours she'd be over it, but he took it so seriously and as forever-and-ever. Of course after a couple of days, what with him being naive and immature - not understanding this was just a short-lived teenage phase - things do turn a bit darker and I did then loose sympathy for him.
I don't think either side come out it unblemished. If this is a town v. country thing, they're both tarnished, and they're both playing each other. Yes, the "towns" as Sam calls them, may be superficial, and coming to play at being in the country, tearing up communities and looking down their noses at the locals. On the other hand, the local community isn't so great for him either as it is; thinking about how he is ostracised and bullied. And the locals are as quick to take advantage of the newcomers where they can; Sam's father overpricing the sheepdog puppies for sale; farmers selling up to cash in on the potential.
It's a book set in North Yorkshire with lots of lovely Yorkshire terms and dialect - horay! It's not called God's Own Country for nothing =). It is quite cool to read something set in such a local area, so much is familiar to me here. I love the North Yorkshire Moors. This story is narrated by Sam Marsdyke, and we're in his Yorkshire head for the whole ride, with some fantastic expressions and imagery. He's 19, lives on the farm where he grew up, with his mother and grumpy farmer father. He got bullied in school, accused of rape (it was a bit grey, especially considering the ending and just how naive and immature he was, it's hard to say if he was falsely accused or not) and is basically mocked by the local community. Everybody knows everyone else's business, so there is no escape for him. So he's a lonely little soul.
The old country community is gradually being worn away - local pubs are re done out; farms sold off not as going concerns, and people from outside buy up the properties, more often than not as holiday homes - this is a genuine and depressing problem, killing off communities, making property too expensive for locals to buy and turning these places into playgrounds. I've heard of some villages in Northumberland that have turned into ghost towns because they are essentially now nothing but second homes.
Just across from Sam's home, a family from London move in - permanent residents. The 15 year old daughter is going through her rebellious phase, not getting on with mother etc, and takes to visiting Sam. He does get played by women so easily... I know she's young and confussed and when she comes to him and says "let's run away" she really doesn't understand the mess she is creating for both of them. My heart really went out to him at that point, because you knew in 24 hours she'd be over it, but he took it so seriously and as forever-and-ever. Of course after a couple of days, what with him being naive and immature - not understanding this was just a short-lived teenage phase - things do turn a bit darker and I did then loose sympathy for him.
I don't think either side come out it unblemished. If this is a town v. country thing, they're both tarnished, and they're both playing each other. Yes, the "towns" as Sam calls them, may be superficial, and coming to play at being in the country, tearing up communities and looking down their noses at the locals. On the other hand, the local community isn't so great for him either as it is; thinking about how he is ostracised and bullied. And the locals are as quick to take advantage of the newcomers where they can; Sam's father overpricing the sheepdog puppies for sale; farmers selling up to cash in on the potential.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 9, 2012
***UPDATE: I upped the number of stars I originally gave to this because, as it turns out, I've been thinking a lot about this book. And any book that I reflect on a week after finishing it deserves another star.
Original review:
I appreciated what the author was trying to do here, but I didn't necessarily enjoy reading this book. To be fair, I'm not sure how much my entertainment level should affect the amount of stars, but I felt a certain level of ambivalence while reading the story...and I kinda detected that the author either had or struggled with that ambivalence while writing this.
It's saying something that I liked reading the author’s interview and an additional essay in the back of the book more than the actual novel. And, may I add, is this a new marketing ploy by publishing houses to put somewhat attractive writers' pictures on their books? Because as much as I don't want to admit it, it is intriguing to see a good-looking author's photo, especially when it's associated with a pretty creepy story.
The book is in the voice of a pretty disturbed boy, who I actually liked, until his actions veered into criminal territory. I usually like novels that are set in "hinterland" areas, such as rural England. This book made me see that farm country in the Western world is universally similar. But I don't know if making the kid mentally ill and violent was a great representation of young farmers, a choice which the author comments on in his interview.
The writing makes you both mourn the loss of small farming as well as wish it good riddance. The story seems to suggest that this kind of life (with its unbridled exposure to death and other unsavory animalistic elements) isn't really good for anybody. I don't have that much experience with farm life—although I did spend a few years in Iowa—but I don't really buy that farm life is super brutal and emotionally unhealthy for everyone in it.
So, while I liked the author's voice and the subject of the book, I really wish different choices had been made. I think a more loving, but no less three-dimensional, approach to some of the characters would've made a more poignant novel.
Original review:
I appreciated what the author was trying to do here, but I didn't necessarily enjoy reading this book. To be fair, I'm not sure how much my entertainment level should affect the amount of stars, but I felt a certain level of ambivalence while reading the story...and I kinda detected that the author either had or struggled with that ambivalence while writing this.
It's saying something that I liked reading the author’s interview and an additional essay in the back of the book more than the actual novel. And, may I add, is this a new marketing ploy by publishing houses to put somewhat attractive writers' pictures on their books? Because as much as I don't want to admit it, it is intriguing to see a good-looking author's photo, especially when it's associated with a pretty creepy story.
The book is in the voice of a pretty disturbed boy, who I actually liked, until his actions veered into criminal territory. I usually like novels that are set in "hinterland" areas, such as rural England. This book made me see that farm country in the Western world is universally similar. But I don't know if making the kid mentally ill and violent was a great representation of young farmers, a choice which the author comments on in his interview.
The writing makes you both mourn the loss of small farming as well as wish it good riddance. The story seems to suggest that this kind of life (with its unbridled exposure to death and other unsavory animalistic elements) isn't really good for anybody. I don't have that much experience with farm life—although I did spend a few years in Iowa—but I don't really buy that farm life is super brutal and emotionally unhealthy for everyone in it.
So, while I liked the author's voice and the subject of the book, I really wish different choices had been made. I think a more loving, but no less three-dimensional, approach to some of the characters would've made a more poignant novel.
September 25, 2012
Sam Marsdyke is an outsider. An adolescent working on his parent's farm following expulsion from school due to a rape allegation, Sam struggles to interact and integrate into the community. Living largely in isolation, Sam lavished his attention on the sheep and puppies on the farm. That is, until a new family move in next door and Sam develops an obsession with the daughter - "the girl" as she is referred to. Their initial awkward friendship quickly escalates into something very dark and altogether more frightening.
The narrative of this novel is extremely powerful. More than once I found myself slowing down and re-reading passages just so I could 'hear' Sam. As the novel develops, and Sam's state of mind declines inanimate objects and animals are imbued with Sam's Yorkshire dialect and phrases. It is these 'voices' that guide Sam, advising him or berating him for his behaviour. This not only reflects his fraught mental state but re-iterates his social exclusion and lack of human friendships.
Raisin also uses this novel to comment on the take-over of rural areas by the 'towns' who merely use the country villages as "sunday gardens". An increasing influx of ramblers and new build developments concern Sam and he spends much of the novel stalking these towns.
Despite Sam's menacing thoughts and actions, as well as his alleged rape, surprisingly he is not an unlikable character. Even at the almost surreal climax of the book, his actions still seem rooted in affection and confusion rather than malice.
Raisin's novel manages to be both comical and darkly sinister all at once. I'm keen to read more of Raisin's work and have already added his second release to my to-read list; he'll have a tough job living up to the standard set by God's Own Country.
The narrative of this novel is extremely powerful. More than once I found myself slowing down and re-reading passages just so I could 'hear' Sam. As the novel develops, and Sam's state of mind declines inanimate objects and animals are imbued with Sam's Yorkshire dialect and phrases. It is these 'voices' that guide Sam, advising him or berating him for his behaviour. This not only reflects his fraught mental state but re-iterates his social exclusion and lack of human friendships.
Raisin also uses this novel to comment on the take-over of rural areas by the 'towns' who merely use the country villages as "sunday gardens". An increasing influx of ramblers and new build developments concern Sam and he spends much of the novel stalking these towns.
Despite Sam's menacing thoughts and actions, as well as his alleged rape, surprisingly he is not an unlikable character. Even at the almost surreal climax of the book, his actions still seem rooted in affection and confusion rather than malice.
Raisin's novel manages to be both comical and darkly sinister all at once. I'm keen to read more of Raisin's work and have already added his second release to my to-read list; he'll have a tough job living up to the standard set by God's Own Country.
February 26, 2015
"God's Country" or "Out Backward" is unlike any other novel I've ever read. The story is told through the eyes and mind of Sam Marsdyke, a troubled youth who, while possibly well intentioned, finds himself losing grip with reality and embracing his darker thoughts.
The draw for me was how I never felt Sam was dangerous until he had clearly crossed the line. I cared about him and hoped his relationship with the girl from down the hill would provide balance in his life. I always had this perception of sociopaths as recognizing how their actions would affect others and knowingly acting out despite the consequences. Sam just seemed lonely and misunderstood, even when he's having conversations with others in his own mind or being physically violent with his thoughts towards people he wasn't keen on.
What started as an adventure with the runaway girl from down the hill quickly escalated into a terrifying abduction - all the while Sam felt they were falling in love and planning on a life together. When she mentions going back home, Sam starts to unravel and ends up spending years in prison for his actions. Upon his release, it's clear that no rehabilitation was able to help him.
This was a fairly quick read, despite the Yorkish dialect and slang throughout. Raisin writes from Marsdyke's point of view so beautifully that you want to root for him and hate him all the same.
The draw for me was how I never felt Sam was dangerous until he had clearly crossed the line. I cared about him and hoped his relationship with the girl from down the hill would provide balance in his life. I always had this perception of sociopaths as recognizing how their actions would affect others and knowingly acting out despite the consequences. Sam just seemed lonely and misunderstood, even when he's having conversations with others in his own mind or being physically violent with his thoughts towards people he wasn't keen on.
What started as an adventure with the runaway girl from down the hill quickly escalated into a terrifying abduction - all the while Sam felt they were falling in love and planning on a life together. When she mentions going back home, Sam starts to unravel and ends up spending years in prison for his actions. Upon his release, it's clear that no rehabilitation was able to help him.
This was a fairly quick read, despite the Yorkish dialect and slang throughout. Raisin writes from Marsdyke's point of view so beautifully that you want to root for him and hate him all the same.
Read
March 16, 2013My book has the American title, Out Backward (which I like better) and the cover art is different, green with a picture of some wild mushrooms. I don't remember where I got this book but it's an autographed copy.
This book had the largest amount of British slang I have ever encountered which I found rather fascinating, sometimes puzzling and ultimately made for slow-going reading-wise in some respects. Most of the time I can figure it out from the context but I did occasionally have to look-up a definition. This aspect got a little better as I made my way through the book and got use to the pattern of speech and words.
I thought it was an interesting story and it held my attention. The main character Sam's thoughts are "spoken" to us along with what's happening since he's telling the events. I like a first-person narrative but there were a couple times where I wasn't sure at first if he was dreaming or telling it as it occurred because often his thoughts were as he wished things to be or imagined how they could be. I liked the realism of the plot though and thought the ending was well done.
This book had the largest amount of British slang I have ever encountered which I found rather fascinating, sometimes puzzling and ultimately made for slow-going reading-wise in some respects. Most of the time I can figure it out from the context but I did occasionally have to look-up a definition. This aspect got a little better as I made my way through the book and got use to the pattern of speech and words.
I thought it was an interesting story and it held my attention. The main character Sam's thoughts are "spoken" to us along with what's happening since he's telling the events. I like a first-person narrative but there were a couple times where I wasn't sure at first if he was dreaming or telling it as it occurred because often his thoughts were as he wished things to be or imagined how they could be. I liked the realism of the plot though and thought the ending was well done.
January 9, 2018
This book goes from 0 - 100 exceptionally quickly.
I won't let slip any spoilers because there are people I'm friends with who are wanting to read this, but right from the get-go, there's a feeling of foreboding that sits on your shoulder, casting dark glances at the begrudging like you've taken to Sam, that begrudging like sitting on your other shoulder.
Even when things go from 'not great' to 'Oh fucking hell Sam!' you still find yourself waiting and hoping for some sort of divine intervention because 'He's not bad, honestly, he's just... Oh shit, what am I even saying?!!'
Written in a Northern Yorkshire accent, this is an absorbing, dark, hilarious book. I loved it.
I won't let slip any spoilers because there are people I'm friends with who are wanting to read this, but right from the get-go, there's a feeling of foreboding that sits on your shoulder, casting dark glances at the begrudging like you've taken to Sam, that begrudging like sitting on your other shoulder.
Even when things go from 'not great' to 'Oh fucking hell Sam!' you still find yourself waiting and hoping for some sort of divine intervention because 'He's not bad, honestly, he's just... Oh shit, what am I even saying?!!'
Written in a Northern Yorkshire accent, this is an absorbing, dark, hilarious book. I loved it.
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