From the Booker Prizewinning James Kelman, comes a road trip through the American South
'The truth is he didn't care how long he was going away. Forever would have suited him. It didn't matter it was America.'
Murdo, a teenager obsessed with music, wishes for a life beyond the constraints of his Scottish island home and dreams of becoming his own man. Tom, battered by loss, stumbles backwards towards the future, terrified of losing his dignity, his control, his son and the last of his family life. Both are in search of something new as they set out on an expedition into the American South. On the road we discover whether the hopes of youth can conquer the fears of age. Dirt Road is a major novel exploring the brevity of life, the agonising demands of love and the lure of the open road.
It is also a beautiful book about the power of music and all that it can offer. From the understated serenity of Kelman's prose emerges a devastating emotional power.
My own background is as normal or abnormal as anyone else's. Born and bred in Govan and Drumchapel, inner city tenement to the housing scheme homeland on the outer reaches of the city. Four brothers, my mother a full time parent, my father in the picture framemaking and gilding trade, trying to operate a one man business and I left school at 15 etc. etc. (...) For one reason or another, by the age of 21/22 I decided to write stories. The stories I wanted to write would derive from my own background, my own socio-cultural experience. I wanted to write as one of my own people, I wanted to write and remain a member of my own community.
During the 1970s he published a first collection of short stories. He became involved in Philip Hobsbaum's creative writing group in Glasgow along with Tom Leonard, Alasdair Gray and Liz Lochhead, and his short stories began to appear in magazines. These stories introduced a distinctive style, expressing first person internal monologues in a pared-down prose utilising Glaswegian speech patterns, though avoiding for the most part the quasi-phonetic rendition of Tom Leonard. Kelman's developing style has been influential on the succeeding generation of Scottish novelists, including Irvine Welsh, Alan Warner and Janice Galloway. In 1998, Kelman received the Stakis Prize for "Scottish Writer of the Year" for his collection of short stories 'The Good Times.' http://www.contemporarywriters.com/au...
This novel is brilliantly conceived and written. I found the story both absorbing and draining, and I enjoyed both experiences. That sounds odd, so I will explain:
Murdo (about to turn seventeen) and his Dad, Tom Macarthur, leave Scotland to visit relatives in Alabama, U.S.A. for a two week holiday. They are both stuck in their bereavement processes and maybe the hope for both is that this holiday will help them get back in touch with themselves – and maybe even each other.
They change buses in a small town and there is a fairly long wait. Murdo decides to go exploring and they miss the bus. The bus doesn’t leave until 3 p.m. they next day, so Murdo goes exploring a bit more. He comes upon what appears to be an impromptu music get-together in a backyard. Murdo plays a few different instruments but his favourite is the accordeon (as it is spelled in the novel). There is an elder woman playing the instrument in the backyard and Murdo is caught up in the sounds and rhythms of the music. The woman notices him and asks if he wants to join in. Another accordeon is brought out for him and, like magic, he is whisked away from all his grief, turmoil, and people problems. All that surrounds him and flows within him is the music.
Thus begins this story of a two week period of time that is life changing in many ways for many people. Although told in the third person, we are drawn in very close to Murdo as a great deal of this novel is honed in on his thoughts – and, as thoughts do, they wander and free-float and stall, then go on to the next thought – small birds busy flitting from branch to branch in a flurry of aimless busy-ness.
This free-flow of thoughts and feelings is uncomfortable at times. Just like our own thoughts, there are times when they are busy exploring darker corners and other times where our thoughts wing us away into the imagination - fantasy or even science fiction. And Murdo has a great deal happening in his mind with so many synapses firing at times that he forgets to do certain things he is supposed to or simply gets lost in his mental meanderings.
Appropriately, there are no quote marks signifying when people are thinking or speaking, and it adds to the almost-dreamy ambience of this story. I thoroughly enjoyed the writing, the story, and the characters in the novel. I could almost hear the music and its rhythms through Murdo’s thoughts about it.
This is a tender and touching novel of a young man’s coming-of-age during a time of loss and grief in a strange country surrounded by people who care about him and want the best for him, but question many of his choices – as he does himself. I recommend this most for those who enjoy family sagas: especially one that is different and a unique reading experience that is both fascinating and relatable.
I have loved the work of the under appreciated James Kelman, and I felt no different towards The Dirt Road. Those familiar with his work will feel at home with his use of the vernacular, the disregard for grammatical conventions and the stream of consciousness approach that makes us vividly realise Murdo. Its appeal revolves around the engaging Murdo and the universal themes of love, loss, grief, and finding your place in the world. Murdo's soul driven passion for music lends him the capacity to see the world and analyse it through the framework of music. Kelman's language and iteration aptly mirrors the rhythms of music. Of course, the American South is rich in its traditions of differing music styles some of which find themselves showcased in this novel.
A lonely 16 year old Murdo and his father are leaving their Scottish Island home for a holiday in Alabama with relatives. Both are burdened with grief and loss, Murdo has lost his mother and his older sister, Eilidh. There is a clear lack of communication between them, silence is the norm. A missed bus due to Murdo getting distracted leads to Murdo meeting and making music with the astonishing black grandmother and musician that is Queen Moonzee-ay. Murdo plays the accordeon, is enraptured with Zydeco music, has feelings for Sarah and is over the moon to be invited to join them at a musical event in Lafayette, Louisiana. Despite the obstacles, Murdo finds his way there, although it is achieved covertly. Getting there exposes Murdo to a series of adventures which solidifies his belief in himself. His fearful father has to find the inner resources to come to grips with this picture of the gifted musical son in a place and with people he had never associated him with. Murdo will brook no alternative to his future other than the one he wants and his dad is terrified of letting him go on the dirt road of music and life.
The trip gives Murdo the possibility of seeing who he is and what he could be. He and his father see each other in a different light amidst relatives and music. Murdo is shocked by some of the racist history of the American South and his intense animosity towards the casual racism of Conor gives us an insight into the strength of his feelings. He does not identify with the strong Church connections of his relatives and refuses to go despite the pleas of his father. He has always felt his sister is always with him giving him strength. Music is his religion, nothing else comes close. Murdo's rich introspective interior life and music allows him to work things out in a way that works for him. It is what lends the picture of Murdo the authenticity that makes you believe in him. He is so real and it is music that keeps him safe and sane.
The Dirt Road is outstanding in both its simplicity and complexity, a remarkable feat in itself. It feels plotless which underlines the quality of Kelman's writing and storytelling. He allows Murdo to evolve and cope effortlessly and without manipulation. Amidst the background of the American South, a young boy learns to cope with grief, explore his identity, make connections in the new world and learn more about his father. He manages to avoid the pitfalls that could have led to a future that was safe but would have been soul destroying for him. A book to treasure! Thanks to Canongate for giving me an early ARC of the book.
3.5 stars A Father and son share the loss of wife and mother, daughter and sister yet seemingly bear their grief alone . There's a strain in the relationship of 17 year old Murdo and his father Tom and they don't talk very much . They set out on a trip from Scotland to visit relatives in Alabama . They miss a bus and end up in Mississippi, where Murdo meets a beautiful young girl in a convenience store and connects with her musician grandmother Queen Monzee -ay, and we discover his passion for music and that he plays the accordion. Zydeco music, touches something in Murdo that makes him want to play again, which he hasn't since his mother died.
Murdo seems lost until he connects with these people and sets out on a mission to meet them again at a music festival in Louisiana. His father also seems lost, burying himself in books , always reading and appearing to be oblivious to his son's struggling with his grief and attempt to find a place for himself. I was moved by the story and loved how Murdo seemed to find healing in his music.
It's an introspective book , and Kelman allows us to feel Murdo's grief and then the passion he feels for his music and his inner thoughts are wonderfully told. We get a glimpse of the south from the eyes of a young man who is new to this country . My criticism of the book is that it is just too long and takes way too long for this father and son to understand each other. Kelman is a Booker Prize winner and I'll look into some of his other works ( preferably shorter ones).
1/10 Reeling from a family bereavement, young musician Murdo and his father prepare to leave Scotland for a road trip to the Southern States of America.
2/10 Murdo's American road trip gets off to the worst possible start as he and his dad find themselves stranded in Allentown, Mississippi...
3/10 Stranded overnight in Allentown, Mississippi, Murdo stumbles across a rehearsal by a group of Zydeco musicians. Read by Finn den Hertog
4/10 After more uncomfortable bus journeys and an unplanned overnight stay in Allentown, Murdo and his dad...
5/10 As the days settle into a routine in Alabama, Murdo is beginning to feel trapped at Uncle John and Aunt Maureen's house.
6/10 As his family look forward to the Alabama Highland Gathering, Murdo starts to worry about the practicalities of joining Queen Monzee-ay for the Lafayette gig.
7/10 Murdo is feeling out of place amongst the kilts and Saltires of the Alabama Highland Gathering - until the live music session begins.
8/10 As excitement mounts for the Tennessee camping trip, will Murdo find the courage to travel to the music festival in Lafayette instead?
9/10 Murdo has run away to the festival in Lafayette but after buying the accordion and bus tickets, his savings don't run to somewhere to stay.
10/10 Murdo is on stage with Queen Monzee-ay and feels at home for the first time since the death of his mum.
The prose is a stream of consciousness; uncensored thoughts which splurge from the protagonist's mind, taking the form of a monologue written by a young, aspiring musician who visits America with his father after the death of his mother.
For me the text was tedious ...and despite all efforts to finish, I only managed to reach the half way mark. I hate giving up on any book but for me I was wasting precious time when the next book, Paul Auster's latest tome is crying out to be read.
I enjoyed this book so much, it is the slowest I've ever read a book because I didn't want it to end. It's about travel, love, loss, music and a son's relationship with his Dad.
Dirt Road is the first book I’ve read by Scottish writer James Kelman. It may not be representative of his usual work as I believe he has a reputation for writing novels that invoke Glaswegian patterns of speech which make it difficult for people unfamiliar with this dialect to understand. His Booker Prize winning novel “How Late It Was, How Late” was surrounded by controversy for its frequent use of bad language, but Kelman responded to these objections saying he was honouring and representing how working class people in Glasgow actually speak. “Dirt Road” features both Scottish and American Southern dialect because the story is about a US road trip, but it’s very readable and easy to understand. This emotionally affecting story closely follows the experiences of Scottish teenager Murdo as he and his father visit relatives in Alabama shortly after his mother died of cancer.
A beautiful book. It's been a few years since I'd read any Kelman, and at first I had my doubts - the voice seemed somewhat repetitive and I worried that he was going to stray into full-on working-class polemic. But a little of the way in Murdo stumbles across musicians near a convenience store and the whole novel roars to life. It is overlong in places (much like Kelman's other Scot-in-America novel "You have to be careful in the land of the free" a tougher edit would have made the novel more slick) but overall it is a deeply affecting story about a young man coming to terms with grief thanks to his love of music. Highly recommended.
The first thing to happen to Murdo, the star of James Kelman's intimate first-person narrative, is that he realises that he's gone on holiday without his phone. As he and his dad catch the ferry to take them from their Scottish island home, Murdo checks his pockets and discovers that he's left his mobile back at the kitchen.
This may be Kelman dealing with the contemporary dramatic problem of mobile communication (how can you have mystery when characters are constantly calling and texting each other?) But it also sets up Murdo as a particular kind of teenager. He does have a phone, and he's part of the same world as the other 16-year olds on the island, but he's also not part of that world, not really. He's annoyed at himself for forgetting the phone, but if he could bring anything on this holiday, it would be his accordion.
Murdo and his father, Tom, are on their way to stay with relatives in Alabama for a fortnight, following the death in quick succession of Murdo's sister and mother. In their taciturn, Scottish way, these deaths are rarely discussed between the two men, and the missing women only break into Murdo's stream of conciousness when he's angry or depressed.
Most of Murdo's thoughts are about music and his desire to play. This is exacerbated by a chance encounter with a family of Zydeco musicians (one of whom is an attractive young girl) who like his accordion licks and want him to come play with them at a festival in Louisiana. Tom is against this, and against any kind of activity in general, and would rather spend the entire fortnight reading in the garden.
Dirt Road is, it must be said, something of a masterpiece in first-person narration. The novel genuinely feels like the transcript of a real teenager's inner monologue, rendered without any literary artifice or writerly tricks. He's a strange kid, Murdo, being basically kind, compassionate and decent, appalled at some of the racist chat he overhears, and willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, especially his dad. He's not a typical teenager, but he is a real, living teenager, described with photorealistic brilliance.
Is Murdo's story interesting though? Well, that's a whole other question.
The book I kept finding myself thinking of was David Peace's Red or Dead, a fictionalised account of the life of Bill Shankly. Red or Dead is comparable in terms of craft, a magnificent and bewildering tone poem. It's also boring as hell. But it really is brilliantly crafted. But it's also incredibly long. And it's boring as hell.
Dirt Road is not boring as hell, or at least most of it isn't. It's arranged in five novella-length chapters, and the first and fifth, which harmonise with each other on themes of music and family and travel, are both really engaging. The middle, however, is quite a slog. As Murdo spends two weeks in a basement in a house in the middle of nowhere in Alabama, wondering if he's going to get to the music festival, I found myself wondering if I'd actually make it to the last page.
I did, and had the same feeling I had at the end of Red or Dead: extremely glad to have read it, awed by the craft, and relived that it was finally finished.
James Kelman is really on top form here. A recently bereaved father and son travel to America to have a break with émigré relatives there. Viewed from the perspective of the son they both deal with the situation in their own way. All the characters, their thoughts and dialogue ring so true that I was laughing and sobbing my way through the book with them. With tangential comment on racism, religion, life and death there is so much to think about in this book. The idea the son has, that he can be creative and work at being a musician is so beyond the ken of his father that, like many things, they cannot talk about it. You can imagine Kelman in the shoes of the son. As an older man can he now imagine himself in the shoes of the father? Fantastic, fantastic book.
A young boy and his father, grieving for the recent loss of the boy's mother and the longer ago loss of his sister, go on a trip to visit relatives in America. While there, Murdo meets up with a family of musicians, who invite him to play his accordion (annoyingly spelled accordeon throughout in my advance reading copy, whether intentionally or accidentally I know not) at a gig in a couple of weeks time. Murdo assumes his father won't want him to go. In fact, his father wants nothing more than to sit around the relatives' house and read, while Murdo lies on his bed in the basement, bored out of his head, listening to one of the two CDs he has. At the point where I finally threw in the towel (33%) they had only left the house once, and that was to go to the mall for a couple of hours.
The writing is undoubtedly excellent. Although written in the third person, the reader is entirely inside Murdo's head, listening to his thoughts. It's not stream of consciousness in the sense of long complicated sentences. Quite the reverse in fact - the sentences tend to be short and plain. But we do see Murdo's thoughts drift and circle. On a technical level, it's beautifully sustained and the voice and emotions ring true. My only criticism of the style is that, for some obscure reason, Kelman, having decided not to "do" Scottish dialect, still substitutes the word "ye" for "you" all the way through. This drove me mad. Either do a Scottish accent or don't!
But the real issue is that there is no discernible plot or story. I realise that's all the rage these days in some quarters of the lit-fic world and that many readers enjoy lengthy studies of emotions we have surely all felt, but it bores me rigid. The book is purely character study and stylish prose, and that's not enough to make a novel. The blurb describes it as a road trip, but to be a road trip surely involves going out of the house occasionally. While the journey to America is moderately interesting, once they reach their destination it becomes entirely static. There is no sense of place, other than that I could describe Murdo's basement and the shopping mall in detail. But happily for you, I won't.
The only questions are, will Murdo go to the gig or not and will he and his father learn to communicate with each other? After what felt like hours of nothing happening, I found I couldn't care less, and certainly not enough to stay with him in his basement for another couple of hundred pages, listening to him go round in endless circles about what it's like to be a bored, isolated and grieving teenager. So I abandoned it and feel much better now, ye know. Perhaps it becomes more interesting later – perhaps there even is the promised road trip. But I'm afraid I'd had enough. This trend for books which do nothing but wallow in descriptions of fictional grief is not for me. The quality of the prose makes my 1-star harsh, but if I find a book so tedious that I can't face reading on, then it seems ridiculous to rate it any higher.
NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Canongate.
An uncompromising read, written ostensibly in the third person. The book reads like a stream of consciousness. Whilst unlikely to be autobiographical, one is conscious that it may be the author's voice which is channelled through Murdo, a naive and diffident adolescent.
It paints a vision of a small, introspective world on the vast stage of the American South, mirroring Murdo's own claustrophobic Scottish existence.
The Dirt Road of the title felt like a simile for a road movie. Father and son get lost en route, perhaps as much a metaphor for their emotional states as their physical predicament. They have little sense of direction and find themselves on the wrong road, in every sense. Yet it is to prove a serendipity for Murdo who discovers his destiny first in a pawn shop window, then with a Creole community who accept him simply for his musical talent.
Murdo's strained relationship with his mourning father is teasingly played out through snippets of dialogue and fragments of thought. In fact the whole book is composed of fragments of coincidental lives which barely seem to intrude into Murdo's consciousness. On one level this is a book of quiet obsessions being allowed to play themselves out as a route towards destiny and self-fulfilment. On another it paints a portrait of the conflict between shared grief and private emotions.
This was not an easy read at first, until the plot began to unfold. Then I was hooked, anxious to know whether Murdo would achieve his modest aspirations.
Thanks to Canongate for introducing me to this book.
I burst into tears as I read the last few sentences of this book. That's Kelman for you. I don't know of any other author who can write with such emotional force and intensity about ordinary people in (mostly) ordinary situations. This book felt different to other Kelman works because of the setting (set almost entirely in the US) but the central themes of love, loss, family, duty, the powerlessness of children and good old gut-wrenching sadness are all there and pack just as strong a punch as they have in other great works by this great author.
My book club selected this for December. In the discussion last night, it was clear that we were all glad to have read it and that - except for the member who had recommended it - we might not have come to it on our own. For me, "getting into" the work was a bit of a challenge, like the dawning understanding that can happen during the first scene or two of the performance of a Shakespearean play if you haven't been to one in a year or two: a need to begin grasping the meaning behind the unfamiliar language. In this case, the language is working-class Glaswegian Scots, from a 16-year-old boy. The novel is expressed in the first person thinking of this young man as he travels with his father to visit an uncle who has emigrated to Alabama. The trip follows their recent bereavement: Murdo's mother has died, as has his older sister, both from cancer. The stream-of-conciousness flow of Murdo's thoughts as he travels to and beyond his uncle's home also reflects his identity as a musician, in that the narrative has musical elements. Themes include the difficulties of communication among the men in the family, the silence that can follow bereavement, father-son relationships as the boy becomes a man reaching for his own life, and the strange ugliness of American racial prejudice. It's a rewarding journey but not an easy one either for Murdo or for this reader. The author, James Kelman, is a prior recipient of the Man Booker prize for an earlier work and I am glad to have become aware of his work.
The taciturn, sensitive teenage protagonist of this book, Murdo, negotiates his role through the world. More appealing than Holden Caulfield, he appreciates and comes to understand his nurturing but conventional family from Scotland, now in the south Midwest. One thing I love about this novel is that, unlike so much fiction today, it contains no horrid, demented relatives or dysfunctional families, just a lot of kind and optimistic people with limitations. In particular, Murdo's Dad remonstrates with him over how it looks to their relatives when Murdo won't accede to their request to play accordion, but gives him little actual encouragement for his fine musical talent. I must warn readers that the book moves slowly for the first 250 pages, but you get a chance to see everyday life through the eyes of an attentive youth. Then the strands come together in a very satisfying way. Best of all is the book's descriptions of musical performance: what it's like to jam with other people, to submerge oneself in playing, to think about the creative work, to respond to music's deep feelings. It's a joy to read by anyone who has played music seriously.
“It’s this quality of deeply imagined human life, with all its variance and inconsistencies, that so many of Kelman’s imitators lack. There is never anything glib about the outcome of his fiction. His stories are without the accessorising of class markers that you see in so many books of this type – where lack of money means drink, say, or domestic violence. Those easy trades of reality for caricature have damaged a great number of other novels that may have had Kelman’s ambition, but not his literary fineness. In Dirt Road we see him continuing to show how human experience can be energised and renewed by its modest scale, not flattened by it into a stereotype. It is another masterpiece from one of our best writers.” Kirsty Gunn writing in the Guardian
Another portrait of a manchild in bleak, claustrophobic, post-industrial Scotland and/or Ireland, with a setting and atmosphere reminiscent of Shuggie Bain, Young Skins and others. This time we're inside the head of 16-year-old Murdo. His sister and mother have recently died, and his father is usually hiding behind a book. The difference in this story is that it describes a trip they take to the American South, a place that's weird but less dismal.
Murdo is forever trying to make sense of things: not just the family tragedies, but also this country's racism, religiosity and close-to-the-surface violence. He takes things in as they come, without judgement. He knowing that he doesn't always get it. There's a wonderful loose sentence structure, with fragments and repetitions, throughout the book that conveys his bemusement about the things he encounters.
He's also trying to figure out what he might do with his life. He's passionate about music, and a brilliant player on guitar and accordion. He meets a family of Zydeco musicians who invite him to join them on stage at a festival. His father is adamantly oblivious to this stroke of fortune. And thus begins Murdo's quest. No spoiler, but the boy achieves, if not a happy ending, a happy chance at a life he's sure he wants. (Even Shuggie Bain, whose family is much poorer and far more dysfunctional, and whose story is horrifying, gets a promising ending, after all.)
One of my absolute fave books for this year. How Murdo's absorption in his music and accordion playing connected him to a life he didn't know about and to those things that kept him going after the death of, first his sister and then his mother. His father's disconnection from him because of his overwhelming grief had Murdo second guessing what was expected of him. His stepping out of this and going on an incredible adventure following his heart and love of music makes this story zing. Highly believable and wonderful writing. A tender and touching story. Highly recommended.
Murdo, a bashful accordeon (sic—a preferred Scots spelling) virtuoso, takes a trip to Arizona with his father for a languorous fortnight with his uncle and aunt, where an unlikely encounter with a zydeco legend induces moderate teenage rebellion. An immersive, generous-hearted novel, one of Kelman’s strongest recentish works, and his second set in America after the terrific You Have to Be Careful in the Land of the Free.
It is a struggle for me to rate this book. On the one hand, I think the writing is a wonderful accomplishment: it employs stream of consciousness to cover a two-week visit to Alabama by a 16-year-old Scottish boy with his father, both dealing with grief over the death of their mother and wife. The boy, Murdo, is frustrated by the limitations placed on him while staying with his great uncle and aunt, and longs to get out and explore, and above all, to join in and play music with people he met in the middle of the bus ride to Alabama. On the other hand, his boredom and frustration encompass two-thirds of the book, and I found myself also frustrated and longing for some action. I felt that it was too long in coming.
From BBC Radio 4 - Book at Bedtime: Booker prize-winner James Kelman's new novel is a potent exploration of love, grief and the power of music.
1/10: Reeling from a family bereavement, young musician Murdo and his father prepare to leave Scotland for a road trip to the Southern States of America.
2/10: Murdo's American road trip gets off to the worst possible start as he and his dad find themselves stranded in Allentown, Mississippi.
3/10: Stranded overnight in Allentown, Mississippi, Murdo stumbles across a rehearsal by a group of Zydeco musicians.
4/10: After more uncomfortable bus journeys and an unplanned overnight stay in Allentown, Murdo and his dad finally meet up with Uncle John in Alabama.
5/10: As the days settle into a routine in Alabama, Murdo is beginning to feel trapped at Uncle John and Aunt Maureen's house.
6/10: As his family look forward to the Alabama Highland Gathering, Murdo starts to worry about the practicalities of joining Queen Monzee-ay for the Lafayette gig.
7/10: Murdo is feeling out of place amongst the kilts and Saltires of the Alabama Highland Gathering - until the live music session begins.
8/10: As excitement mounts for the Tennessee camping trip, will Murdo find the courage to travel to the music festival in Lafayette instead?
9/10: Murdo has run away to the festival in Lafayette but after buying the accordion and bus tickets, his savings don't run to somewhere to stay.
10/10: Murdo is on stage with Queen Monzee-ay and feels at home for the first time since the death of his mum.
Reader Finn den Hertog Abridged by David Jackson Young Produced Eilidh McCreadie.
3.5/4? There is much to like and admire (admittedly I'm already a fan), but the book didn't move me as much as some of his earlier work. As an American living in Scotland, Kelman's tale of a recently bereaved Scottish father and son's trip to visit relatives in the Southland was always likely to appeal to me. In previous work I've admired his interest in life as lived in parts of America that generally aren't portrayed in fiction (or nonfiction for that matter), as well as his skill in portraying its characters and values sensitively and unsentimentally - mirroring his efforts in Scotland. That is present here too, along with his interest in the power and value of music, chronicling challenging family relationships among people desperate to but unable to communicate. As a Northerner with little experience of the South, I wouldn't attempt to evaluate how accurate or real his portrayal of the South is, but I certainly recognise how brilliantly he has captured American working class life in general, and that he never dodges the racism, isolationism, materialism just under the surface of all American life. He created a very credible world, interesting characters and situations to explore - perhaps it was that it seemed too long to me? The final part is very emotionally charged and brings together the multiple themes Kelman has been exploring, but it does all this concisely and without answering a lot of questions (which I like but appreciate it's a matter of taste). Perhaps if the earlier parts of the narrative were as taut as the final part, the book would rank higher with me. But certainly worth reading and thinking about.
After the death of his mother, 16 year old Murdo and his father leave Scotland to go visit relatives in Alabama. Along the way, Murdo meets a family of musicians who invite him to go play a show with them before he goes back to Scotland. As Murdo spends time with his relatives, he realizes that he and his father have different ways of coping with the death of a loved one.
Sometimes a book just does not click with you and you aren't even sure why. This is one of those times. I liked the concept of the book but I was bored most of the time. Maybe some of the problem is I found it hard to care much about Murdo even though the poor kid had just lost his mother and his sister years before that. He just came across as lacking common sense and I don't think the issue was only because he was in a different country. While the book does have some moments where I could sympathize with him, unfortunately they were few and far between. I'm sure others will like this book, but it just didn't do much for me.
I received a free digital copy of this book but was under no obligation to post a review. All views expressed are my honest opinions.
Tom and his son Murdo are traveling to America to stay for a couple of weeks with relatives. They miss their connection and end up in Mississippi overnight where Murdo meets Sarah and her grandmother a musician Queen Monzee-ay. Murdo plays accordion with them and they ask him to come to a concert in Lafayette in two weeks time. Murdo and Tom are still coming to terms with the death of Murdo's mother and earlier death of his sister from a hereditary condition affecting the female line of the family. Music helps Murdo escape but Tom is over protective. This is a wonderful story mixing my two great interests of reading and music, it makes me want to play more.
I enjoyed this book and was keen to get to the end in the hope that some comfort was found for both grieving father and son. I think it was but as in life, in this book, the important things that need to be said are too often not said and perhaps especially between fathers and sons. I particularly liked Murdo's awkward attempts at conveying his feelings and what he really meant and wanted, which seemed very realistic.
This another of those books - told from a single point of view - that requires a change of mindset, of mental pace, to read but it was so very worthwhile for the thought-provoking depths of it. Murdo's struggling to cope with grief and the adolescent bursting for independence, in America rather than Scotland (so all the more dislocating) - plus the insight into experiencing the joys of playing music were impressively told and made for a very satisfying read.
Murdo, a Scottish teenager, jets off to America with his dad to visit relatives in Alabama. This is a novel about loss and grief and how a teenage boy copes by immersing himself in music. I won this in a giveaway in exchange for an honest review and I found it a good introduction to an author I've not read before.