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Stickleback
Alan Siddall, a young 68-year-old Black Sabbath fan who wears shades from dusk till dawn, has outstayed his welcome at his local Mental Health Unit. He's about to be shipped off to Willowbeck Gardens to see out the rest of his troubled days. But when he bumps into Cassandra, "the one that got away" years ago before his disastrous marriage to Babs, Alan refuses to go gently into residential care. He wants Cassandra back. At the heart of this angry, moving and often hilarious novel is the message that, however hard it is to live in this world, hope will always survive. "Connors is the P.G. Wodehouse of the working class, almost every sentence an elegant expression of comic vulgarity." John Lake (author, Amy and the Fox) "The characters written by Mark Connors never drop a note." Barrie Sherwood (author, Escape from Amsterdam) Mark Connors is an award winning writer from Horsforth, Leeds. He has won prizes and received commendations at various Literature Festivals. His poetry and short fiction has been published widely in the UK and overseas. Stickleback is his first novel. "Though far removed in tone, Stickleback has all the pathos of Emma Healey's Elizabeth is Missing in its first-person-narrative depiction of mental health issues. Alan, the protagonist, "a young 68" and institutionalised, an ardent Black Sabbath fan always clad in shades and a leather jacket, is a rebel from the same mould as McMurphy in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and his foul-mouthed, ribald protest against the system is packed with great one-liners that had me cackling. But it's his seemingly insurmountable quest to reconnect with Cassandra, "the one that got away", that gives this angry, funny and moving novel its real heart, the message that, however hard it is to live in this world, hope will always survive. Connors is the P.G. Wodehouse of the lower classes, every sentence an elegant expression of comic vulgarity." John Lake (author, Leeds 6 Trilogy, Amy and the Fox)
244 pages, Paperback
Published March 1, 2016
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
April 3, 2016
Keep tight hold of your sanity when you plunge into the maelstrom of filth that churns between the covers of this brilliant debut novel. It is a book that grabs you by the throat and shakes you.
Alan Siddall is not a nice man, not somebody you'd enjoy meeting in the corner shop, on the street, nor anywhere for that matter. If you were as short on political correctness as he is, you might describe him as "someone who needs locking up." For 30 years Siddall has lived with an undefined mental illness - "I've been called a manic depressive, a schizophrenic and a lot fuckin' worse. Now they call me a bi-polar bear" as he puts it, and half a lifetime of confinement in institutions with compulsory medication has left him angry and embittered towards the entire world.
He vents his spleen cruelly on everyone closest to him - doctors, social workers, fellow patients, the hard-working care staff who look after him, and most shockingly on his own caring and long-suffering sister, his only living relative. His language is appalling, his misogynism unendearing, his personal habits disgusting and his selfish disregard for the feelings of others is shocking. "Diminished responsibility me old China. Haven't you heard? Us bi-polar bears can get away with murder", he laughs to the care-home manager, having reduced his poor sister to tears yet again. You search for excuses for this behaviour in Siddall's harsh upbringing as the child of an abusive butcher, but Connors refuses to make it easy for you - Siddall may be mad but he knows exactly what he is doing.
That is the genius of this novel. Any writer can make the reader identify with a hero, but the craftsmanship of a great writer lies in creating somebody you don't like, then propelling you straight into his head whether you like it or not. And that is exactly what Connors does. Obnoxious though Alan Siddall is, only a few pages in to Stickleback I found myself fighting his battles, cheering him on in his twin objectives of refusing to be moved to an old people's home from the mental health unit he has regarded as home for many years, and of reconnecting with a former girlfriend he unexpectedly bumped into in the local corner shop. Indeed, my partner even complained I was swearing at double my usual rate whilst reading the book. "Blame that fuckin' Alan Siddall!" I told her.
If I had a make a criticism it would be that the book may be too specific to the city of Leeds in which it is set. This doesn't bother me personally since I've lived close to Leeds for about 25 years, so I know places like the city market hall, Vicar Lane and the Merrion Centre, and where they stand in relation to one another, and even when Connors casually names landmarks in the surrounding countryside such as the Cow and Calf and the Twelve Apostles I know exactly to where he is referring. But I'm not sure if a reader in a different part of the U.K., or even more so in another country, would be able to absorb the local geography, nor whether this assumed familiarity could be off-putting. Part of the brilliance of the writing is that place descriptions are minimalist and much of the action is carried in dialogue or through Siddall's uncompromising internal monologue, so perhaps any reader would fill in the blanks from his or her own experience and enjoy it just as much as a native born tyke.
Similarly, a vast number of Siddall's colourfully obscene expressions are unfamiliar even to myself. I suspect Connors invented a few himself but many must be Leeds working class colloquialisms and take a fair bit of interpretation. Sometimes I wished I hadn't worked out what he meant! You also might find it helpful if, like me, you already have a good knowledge of English Heavy Metal bands of the 1970s and 80s, or else lengthy discussions of even lengthier solos by hairy has-been guitar heroes will go right over your head. But there again, Connors no doubt allows his protagonist to go on in this way deliberately in order to underline the self-obsessive personality.
I hope I'll read other reviews of Stickleback by people from other backgrounds, and then I'll know whether it's only myself and my county neighbours who think this an extraordinary book. Whatever the case, I predict the name Mark Connors will become far better known in the literary world of the future.
Alan Siddall is not a nice man, not somebody you'd enjoy meeting in the corner shop, on the street, nor anywhere for that matter. If you were as short on political correctness as he is, you might describe him as "someone who needs locking up." For 30 years Siddall has lived with an undefined mental illness - "I've been called a manic depressive, a schizophrenic and a lot fuckin' worse. Now they call me a bi-polar bear" as he puts it, and half a lifetime of confinement in institutions with compulsory medication has left him angry and embittered towards the entire world.
He vents his spleen cruelly on everyone closest to him - doctors, social workers, fellow patients, the hard-working care staff who look after him, and most shockingly on his own caring and long-suffering sister, his only living relative. His language is appalling, his misogynism unendearing, his personal habits disgusting and his selfish disregard for the feelings of others is shocking. "Diminished responsibility me old China. Haven't you heard? Us bi-polar bears can get away with murder", he laughs to the care-home manager, having reduced his poor sister to tears yet again. You search for excuses for this behaviour in Siddall's harsh upbringing as the child of an abusive butcher, but Connors refuses to make it easy for you - Siddall may be mad but he knows exactly what he is doing.
That is the genius of this novel. Any writer can make the reader identify with a hero, but the craftsmanship of a great writer lies in creating somebody you don't like, then propelling you straight into his head whether you like it or not. And that is exactly what Connors does. Obnoxious though Alan Siddall is, only a few pages in to Stickleback I found myself fighting his battles, cheering him on in his twin objectives of refusing to be moved to an old people's home from the mental health unit he has regarded as home for many years, and of reconnecting with a former girlfriend he unexpectedly bumped into in the local corner shop. Indeed, my partner even complained I was swearing at double my usual rate whilst reading the book. "Blame that fuckin' Alan Siddall!" I told her.
If I had a make a criticism it would be that the book may be too specific to the city of Leeds in which it is set. This doesn't bother me personally since I've lived close to Leeds for about 25 years, so I know places like the city market hall, Vicar Lane and the Merrion Centre, and where they stand in relation to one another, and even when Connors casually names landmarks in the surrounding countryside such as the Cow and Calf and the Twelve Apostles I know exactly to where he is referring. But I'm not sure if a reader in a different part of the U.K., or even more so in another country, would be able to absorb the local geography, nor whether this assumed familiarity could be off-putting. Part of the brilliance of the writing is that place descriptions are minimalist and much of the action is carried in dialogue or through Siddall's uncompromising internal monologue, so perhaps any reader would fill in the blanks from his or her own experience and enjoy it just as much as a native born tyke.
Similarly, a vast number of Siddall's colourfully obscene expressions are unfamiliar even to myself. I suspect Connors invented a few himself but many must be Leeds working class colloquialisms and take a fair bit of interpretation. Sometimes I wished I hadn't worked out what he meant! You also might find it helpful if, like me, you already have a good knowledge of English Heavy Metal bands of the 1970s and 80s, or else lengthy discussions of even lengthier solos by hairy has-been guitar heroes will go right over your head. But there again, Connors no doubt allows his protagonist to go on in this way deliberately in order to underline the self-obsessive personality.
I hope I'll read other reviews of Stickleback by people from other backgrounds, and then I'll know whether it's only myself and my county neighbours who think this an extraordinary book. Whatever the case, I predict the name Mark Connors will become far better known in the literary world of the future.
January 7, 2019
When I discovered that this was the selection at our Book Group, I was slightly dismayed. It's not the sort of novel that I normally read. Moreover, the blurb made it sound, well, grim. Add in that it is written entirely from the perspective of Alan Siddall - aggressive, irrational, almost entirely unsympathetic (he even has dodgy taste in music) and, well, this was clearly going to be a struggle to get through.
How wrong could I be? This is a wonderful novel. Alan Siddall does not present himself as a pleasant individual, yet for all his faults he is surrounded by people who care about him. And this is totally believable, because very quickly I found myself rooting for him in his struggles with the mental health care regime. Mark Connors has achieved this by creating a series of characters who are completely believable - they at all times behave in character - there is no odd behaviour to advance the plot. And when the time comes when Alan has to act without thinking, he instinctively does the right thing.
I'll also add that the book is just the right length - another 100 pages of Alan might have been too much. This is not P. G. Wodehouse for the "lower classes", Alan Siddall will live with you in a way that Lord Emsworth never could.
This is the best novel that I read in 2018 and I'm aware that I've not done it justice in this review. So buy it, and welcome Alan into your life.
How wrong could I be? This is a wonderful novel. Alan Siddall does not present himself as a pleasant individual, yet for all his faults he is surrounded by people who care about him. And this is totally believable, because very quickly I found myself rooting for him in his struggles with the mental health care regime. Mark Connors has achieved this by creating a series of characters who are completely believable - they at all times behave in character - there is no odd behaviour to advance the plot. And when the time comes when Alan has to act without thinking, he instinctively does the right thing.
I'll also add that the book is just the right length - another 100 pages of Alan might have been too much. This is not P. G. Wodehouse for the "lower classes", Alan Siddall will live with you in a way that Lord Emsworth never could.
This is the best novel that I read in 2018 and I'm aware that I've not done it justice in this review. So buy it, and welcome Alan into your life.
June 1, 2021
The voice driving this novel is stunningly good, and wholly believable! The tale is told in the voice of Alan Siddell a Black Sabbath fan with severe mental health problems. It is dreadful, wonderful, laugh out loud funny, wholly inappropriate, and tremendously sad to be inside Alan's head as he searches for his lost love and attempts to play the system. It is also a highly thought provoking novel. It made me think....a lot....about institutionalisation. It also made me think a lot about the effect of mental health problems upon family and community. I loved this book....I read it quickly but have been left thinking about it. Recommended.
May 10, 2016
Mark Connors sets himself a difficult challenge, taking on Alan Siddall as protagonist of his debut novel. To make it even more difficult he declines to let himself off the authorial hook by allowing other narrative viewpoints - Alan is the only teller of his story, and you won't find a more foul-mouthed, cantankerous, purblind (for emphasis he constantly wears sunglasses even in the bath) or egoistic narrator in much of English literature. And crazy to boot. There's a reason you won't find many Alans in the literary annals; sensible authors don't take on a challenge like this - it's too bloody hard to pull off. Connors may be as mad as his creation - how can we read comfortably with a dirty obsessive in our ear like the fellow-passenger from hell and maybe to it? - but his genius is he makes it, and he makes us do it, and we're glad of it. For anyone tempted to get off the bus (and yes, it's a temptation when Alan is in full rant) I urge you to ride the whole way. The last fifty pages sees the writing - which is note-perfect throughout - rise to a different level.
[SPOILER ALERT]
There is a real emotional charge to Alan's health crisis (how can I be in tears for this bastard?) while the emergence of and final meeting with Cassandra is poignant, delicate and simultaneously affirmative and heart-achingly sad. One more thing: The last section, 'Me Mam's Magic Vase', provides the reason for the novel's title, and it is, honestly, one of the finest, most illuminating metaphors you will read in contemporary fiction.
[SPOILER ALERT]
There is a real emotional charge to Alan's health crisis (how can I be in tears for this bastard?) while the emergence of and final meeting with Cassandra is poignant, delicate and simultaneously affirmative and heart-achingly sad. One more thing: The last section, 'Me Mam's Magic Vase', provides the reason for the novel's title, and it is, honestly, one of the finest, most illuminating metaphors you will read in contemporary fiction.
June 2, 2016
First, in the interests of disclosure, I should say I'm with the same publishers as Mark.
Stickleback is one of the funniest novels I've read for a long while. There must have been at least one laugh per page. But it is also a very moving and insightful dissection of the mental health system, and how it is failing people like protagonist Alan Siddal. Conners has a superb way with witty and profane dialogue, and all his characters feel very real. Highly recommend
Stickleback is one of the funniest novels I've read for a long while. There must have been at least one laugh per page. But it is also a very moving and insightful dissection of the mental health system, and how it is failing people like protagonist Alan Siddal. Conners has a superb way with witty and profane dialogue, and all his characters feel very real. Highly recommend
June 2, 2023
'The mad are rarely celebrated. And we have better stories to tell than most.'
This is a cracking book which marks a refreshing departure from so many of the trends in contemporary British literature. The narrator, Alan Siddall, a 68-year old Black Sabbath fan confined to a Leeds Mental Health Unit does his best to provoke and rile the reader at every turn. Yet the result is hilarious, moving, and tragic in equal parts. Connors has perfectly captured Siddal's Leeds dialect, coupled with his utterly unique take on the world around him. It is refreshing to read a narrator who is willing to offend and to stick up a middle finger to so many and so much! Connors' protagonist is abrasive, un-PC, and provocative, and all the more believable for it. But what stands out the most is the sensitivity with which Connors captures the characters of Siddall and those around him. A wonderful and original debut.
Further kudos to Armley Press for publishing this. A reminder of the value of northern writers and publishers and of voices which don't conform to the London literary establishment view of what literature should be. Highly recommended!
This is a cracking book which marks a refreshing departure from so many of the trends in contemporary British literature. The narrator, Alan Siddall, a 68-year old Black Sabbath fan confined to a Leeds Mental Health Unit does his best to provoke and rile the reader at every turn. Yet the result is hilarious, moving, and tragic in equal parts. Connors has perfectly captured Siddal's Leeds dialect, coupled with his utterly unique take on the world around him. It is refreshing to read a narrator who is willing to offend and to stick up a middle finger to so many and so much! Connors' protagonist is abrasive, un-PC, and provocative, and all the more believable for it. But what stands out the most is the sensitivity with which Connors captures the characters of Siddall and those around him. A wonderful and original debut.
Further kudos to Armley Press for publishing this. A reminder of the value of northern writers and publishers and of voices which don't conform to the London literary establishment view of what literature should be. Highly recommended!
March 15, 2023
Alan Siddall is a monster, except for all the times when he isn't. A moving and powerful story of mental illness, friendship, family and the condition of healthcare services in a vibrantly described West Yorkshire.
I found Alan Siddall's universe and voice completely immersive. All the characters were incredibly real and it's one of those books that I know is going to have a lasting impact on me for a good long while.
Mark's ability to get you horrified by Alan and in the next paragraph, loving him again is an incredible talent. Highly recommend.
I found Alan Siddall's universe and voice completely immersive. All the characters were incredibly real and it's one of those books that I know is going to have a lasting impact on me for a good long while.
Mark's ability to get you horrified by Alan and in the next paragraph, loving him again is an incredible talent. Highly recommend.
May 5, 2022
Looking for something different to read. This is it, funny, sad, honest. Tackling mental health is always difficult. This is a good honest read. Swearing and vulgar but this is a huge part of the character.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews