Monday, April 30, 2012

The most hutious novel you'll read this year

I point at Ahmad's squirt gun, shaped like a Star Wars laser pistol, "Wow, what are you going to do with that?"
"Oh, you know, sometimes I just have to shoot the junkies. It's protection."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah.  Or sometimes I can sneak past the junkies and just get them with Legolas' bow and arrow from my window.  I have keep my mom and sisters safe.  But my brother, he's annoying and he can just get through by himself!  Did I tell you he farts too much like the Pinky Ponk?"

Refugee children in Glasgow often live on rough estates.  I find it amazing how they cope with the difficulties of living in a deprived neighbourhood; particularly their resilience and optimism.  My little buddy "Ahmad" is clearly aware of the threat of addicts who live near their flat, but this danger is incorporated into a childlike narrative that includes Lord of the Rings and In the Night Garden.  He's partially aware of issues and often acts older than his years, but an innocence remains.

 


I just finished reading Stephen Kelman's Pigeon English which captures this and other aspects of life in urban Britain so well.  It was shortlisted for the Booker Prize last year.  It's hilarious in a laugh-out-loud way that books usually are not (note: it's not the thing to read in bed when your wife has to get up early next morning), while simultaneously disturbing and tragic.
The book is written from an eleven-year-old Ghanaian immigrant's point of view as he tries to "solve" the murder of a teenage boy in his London estate.   The story is disconcerting in this way: our protagonist Harri, is only half-conscious of the deadly threat gangs and dealers pose on his estate.  All the while, the adult reader becomes increasingly aware that Harri's putting himself in harm's way.  As refreshing as it is to see life from Harri's point of view, it's impossible to ignore the darker elements of the story with adult cynicism.  Harri sees Julius as the family friend who can gets him a remote control car, but it's clear he's abusive to his girlfriend, a loan shark, and involved in trafficking.
The benefit of reading from Harri's perspective, however, is that his story of living on the estate is not all about knife crime, gangs, and drugs.  His council estate is full of beauty, adventure, and humour.  While not shying away from the brutal realities, it's a more rounded and accurate picture.

 
I think it's an excellent novel, immersive and believable.  The tone and heavy use of slang may not appeal to all, but it's worth the effort.  Pigeon English reminded me of a lot of the refugee kids I work with, the main difference in the book being the London accent.



Posted by Paul and Emma at 9:21 am |  

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