Smithy is takes us on a vividly unsentimental trip around Leeds and the education system. The journey is often bleak, sometimes funny, as it makes intricate connections between the colourful lives of its inhabitants whilst it delivers deeply serious messages about education and our relationships with other people. It is a novel of many parts, weaving sardonic observations of people’s everyday lives around a heartfelt politics of responsibility and inclusion Dr Alison Wilde, Education and Childhood, Leeds Beckett University
A rollercoaster ride through one man’s encounter with disability, education, sexual abuse and romance; a cracking good read. Professor Colin Barnes, Disability studies, University of Leeds
John Swain’s gritty novel SMITHY IS..., is not only brutally insightful and hard hitting, but also crucial to the issues that young people have faced and continue to face. Set in the northern town of Leeds, we see a young boy progressing to adulthood, who experiences and is privy to several disturbing issues such mental abuse, sexual abuse, bullying, racism and an overall tumultuous number of years growing up. What is especially appealing is the narrative, which will certainly resonate with a young adult audience. A must read for both young people and any professional carer or educator of today.
Helen Mason, Co-Chief Executive, Child Helpline International
Swain, John. Smithy Is … Like his earlier novel, Digging Up the Pitmen, John Swain’s story has a strong biographical basis, but here the central consciousness speaks directly from personal experience rather than from recorded history or interviews with survivors. For me, it is more of a novel and much less of an exposure of a national crime. While both books are clearly what one might call ‘socially concerned,’ Smithy Is … is lighter, funnier and closer to the status quo of public education as we know it. It is also less didactic, more sparky and broader in scope; the characters are richer and more varied. The reader is invited into the mental worlds of the major figures, especially that of the troubled world of the teller, Jack Smith, a terminal loser who becomes socially active, and from what some might call the underclass.
Jack suffers from lack of a father and hereditary diabetes, both disabilities hanging from his neck like badges of shame. His dad’s absence is never discussed, so he assumes that his mother was deserted, leaving him a virtual orphan with type A diabetes. His grandparents give him no comfort or explanation. He has to inject himself several times daily and retreats into copious reading. He is a sitting target for mockers and bullies, especially as he is no sportsman and a recluse. By chance he meets Ron, a Jewish gay, and likewise an outlaw. They become friends until Ron wins a scholarship to Cambridge. Enter ‘Big E’ and the chaos of amalgamation where Jack is transformed from being a ‘user’ into becoming a ‘member.’ In plain speech this means moving from being pupil to teacher.
The joy of the story lies in the fact that in maturity the ‘members’ game of one-upmanship is taken a bit further, where adult insults prove even more hurtful than mere name-calling, and that the despised Smithy – ex-wanker, ex-perv and ex-poofter - is now the respectable teacher, Mr Smith.