Polygon, 2018, 138 p, plus iv p Foreword by Alan Taylor and viii p Introduction by Ian Rankin. First published in 1973.

(I thought I’d posted this review a few weeks ago but it seems I hadn’t. As a result of that thought I deleted my pedant’s corner notes. I kept the review’s text, though, as I also post them on a private blog I follow and contribute to. So here it is.)

Another of Spark’s enigmatic novels, unusually this time set in 1970s New York. Paul and Elsa are a relatively well off British couple living in Manhattan with a view of the East River. Elsa’s behaviour is erratic and Paul wonders if she is mad. As an emblem of this, great play is made of the appearance of Elsa’s shadow which always falls wrongly, as if she is lit from a different direction. Her analyst, Garven, spends a lot with them and later takes on the job of butler.

Elsa tells Paul she has recognised an assistant in a shoe shop as Kiel, a former German POW whom they had dealings with during the Second World War. Paul insists this man would be too young and, in any case, believes Kiel died not long after their acquaintance. Paul and Elsa had been employed in the war to try to gain as much information from the POWs as possible to which end Elsa went on long walks with Kiel (and it is likely that significantly more happened between them.)

Among the surreal events which take place is the first night of a production of Peter Pan, overseen by Paul and Elsa’s son, with only old people as the cast, brought to a halt when Elsa pelts the actors with tomatoes causing a disturbance large enough to have the police called.

These are tedious people carrying on pointless activities. That they are people who seem in fact to be dead (or in the case of Paul and Elsa’s children never to have lived at all) perhaps explains it all, but that would be little more satisfactory than stating that it was all a dream, rendering the whole enterprise a bit meaningless. If they are dead what relevance do their interactions have to everyday life or to the human condition? What lesson can be drawn from them?

Kate Atkinson dealt much better with this kind of dilemma in A God in Ruins.

Sensitivity note: mentions Negroes.

Canongate, 2024, 334 p, including 2 p Acknowledgements.

“The reception area had been designed with an eye to vomit and violence.” Thus begins this book, which if you hadn’t already known this was a crime novel would certainly have alerted you instantly.

Jim Brennan is the son of a minor criminal who managed to evade a life of petty crime and has worked himself up to the position of vice-Chancellor at the Universty. He has lived comfortably with his wife Maggie and children Eliot and Sarah till his existence is turned upside down by Eliot’s arrest for possessing drugs with the intention to deal. This drags him into the shady world he thought he had left behind as he finds himself having to dance to the tune of the gangsters to whom Eliot owes a large amount of money, all while navigating the problems of his work – a student who has committed suicide, the University’s possibly compromising connections with China, the Principal’s impending retiral, a Physics professor’s antipathy and the overseeing of granting of contracts for new buildings.

This odyssey into the darker side of life leads him into contact with Eddie Cranston, now a low-grade criminal lawyer with a sideline in helping youths to stay out of trouble, a property developer called Henders, an ex-student named Becca and – eventually – with one of his father’s old sparring partners.

In a conversation with Henders he contrasts the change in attitudes over his life by saying, “‘My dad was a low-grade hardman. An occasional enforcer with what we’d now call anger management issues. Back in the day folk just said he was mental.’”

There is, though, really only one incidence of violence in the book – which occurs offstage – and also a death in the climactic scene, but on the whole the novel doesn’t actually deliver on the threat of that opening line. Not that that’s a bad thing.

As a portrait of a man caught on the horns of a prickly dilemma it is entertaining enough with Welsh’s typical good writing and convincing characterisation.

Pedant’s corner:- “on the brew” (usually rendered as ‘on the broo’; from burroo, a west of Scotland corruption of bureau, itself short for Employment Bureau, the precursor of Job Centres,) “breath smelt of fruit pastels” (fruit pastilles,) “an urge to hoick and spit” (to hawk and spit,) “wedding band” (is a USianism, the British is always wedding ring, which was used five lines later, so maybe this was to avoid quick repetition,) Henders’ (several times; Henders’s,) “hung themselves in despair” (hanged themselves.) “He got to his feet, ending indicating the meeting was over” (either ‘He got to his feet, ending the meeting’, or, He got to his feet, indicating the meeting was over’,) “made it barely seemed to matter” (made it barely seem to matter,) “before he hung himself” (hanged himself,) “Rowan was on her knees in the kitchen, cleaning the oven, when Jim entered the kitchen” (doesn’t need two mentions of the kitchen.) “A barbers manned by …” (A barber’s,) “that another pair of eyes were observing him” (another pair … was observing him.) “A crowd of students were streaming down the hill” (a crowd  … was streaming.) In the acknowledgements; “Writing a books is nice work if you can get it” (either ‘Writing a book’ or, ‘Writing books’.)

Pushkin Vertigo, 2024, 405 p.

Alison McCoist has been all but shunned in Glasgow’s police after she made a mistake in believing the confession of a man called Knightley to the murder of a young pregnant woman. The real culprit remains at large and DI McCoist – who has enough on her plate already what with her name being similar to a well-known former footballer (‘I’ve heard all the jokes already’) and only seeing her twin children under access conditions at weekends – is as a result widely thought to be on the take.

In parental terms Davey Burnet is in the same boat as Alison. His estranged wife Sarah is seeking an order to prevent him seeing his four-year-old daughter Annalee. His job at Sean’s carwash does not pay well and he has problems with booze.

When Paul McGuinn turns up in an expensive car asking for it to be cleaned – of evidence of his extra-marital exploits – Davey and would-be law student Tim do too good a job. McGuinn keeps returning.

Meanwhile DI McCoist is working away in the background trying to redeem her reputation. Her attention is drawn to the carwash by a complaint from a female customer who left her child in the back seat to go shopping while her car was being cleaned and was subjected to abuse and threats by Sean when she came back.

One day Davey mistakes the date of his child access hearing and when reminded of it by his mother panics into taking McGuinn’s car to try to make it on time. He is blocked in on the way, and kidnapped. People out to get McGuinn – a local crime boss into trafficking, prostitution, and with a yen for violence – have made a mistake. As a harmless innocent they let Davey go and burn the car. But Davey’s error has delivered both himself and the carwash business as a whole into McGuinn’s hands. Soon all sorts of clean-up jobs, most of them grisly, fall Davey’s way.

There is a sticker on the front cover saying this won the McIlvanney Prize for Scottish Crime Novel of the Year. I thought it was all right, diverting enough but not especially notable in terms of crime fiction. It did have a strong sprinkling of Glaswegian dialect. For my taste there was too much violence but I suspect crime readers would not be displeased by that.

Oh, and despite the foregrounding of the detective in most of the commentary/reviews of Squeaky Clean I have seen this is actually Davey Burnet’s story not Alison McCoist’s.

Pedant’s corner:- on the back cover “half the Glasgow copshop think DI Alison McCoist is bent” (half the Glasgow copshop thinks ….,) bicky/bickies (biccy/biccies,) gyprock (several times. That building material’s proprietary name is Gyproc,) “next him” (next to him.) “Dannie’s Gibb’s body” (Dannie Gibbs’s,) sprung (sprang,) “dove in” (dived in,) “a twitching bag of ticks” (of tics,) epicentres (centres,) “pouring out a gash on her forehead” (pouring out of a gash,) staunch (stanch.)

The Women’s Press, 1991, 267 p.

This is a collection of Elphinstone’s short prose works. As usual with Elphinstone the writing is accomplished.

The Green Man. An Art teacher with some romantic disappointments and reasonably unsuccessful exhibitions behind her is walking the disused Dumfries to Stranraer railway line when she comes across an unusual dome-shaped green tent at the lochside near Lochskerrow Halt. Its occupant is a green man, possibly from an alien planet (his tent is not a spaceship, but his culture is other-worldly) who seems able to read her thoughts. Nevertheless their conversation is at cross purposes and frustrating. However, she does not feel threatened by him and agrees to return the next day. She finds herself attracted to him and the inevitable happens. Yet she doesn’t go back again. Her experience feeds into her artwork and her paintings become desirable. When the Loch Skerrow location is identified by one viewer she realises she has put the green man in danger.

Islands of Sheep. A middle-aged academic who has seemingly been unable to sustain relationships with the various women in his life has moved into a bungalow on the Cambridgeshire fens with an ancient mulberry tree in the garden and a view towards a low ridge that was once an island. He takes in as a tenant a young attractive woman psychologist, whom he has difficulty in understanding. As the tale comes towards its end he experiences hallucinations, symptoms of a nervous breakdown.

Conditions of Employment delves into the Matter of Britain. A relatively young jobless woman despairing at her lot in life throws rocks into a stream in her anguish. A few days later she sees a post as a Well Guardian advertised at her local Job Centre. She goes along to the unusual location for the interview. As Well Guardian she finds herself giving advice to people with minor skin complaints or other medical requirements. She also encounters the Watcher of the Sleepers who wants to know if it is the time of danger enough to wake those asleep under Cairnsmore Hill.

The Cold Well features the permanent Guardian of the Well, Oddny, who, at her antlered folkloric counterpart’s request, travels across a stretch of sea to try to undo the source of the sickness affecting the local deer. Reading between the lines, that source is Sellafield.

An Apple From a Tree. The events of this are narrated by a woman to her lover some months after they supposedly took place.  She was in a stand of beech trees in the Botanic Gardens in Edinburgh when an apple fell on her. Biting into it she was suddenly transported to a grassy plain where stood a naked woman, who (later) gives her name as Nisola. Shortly her male companion arrived. Nisola was as discomfited by our narrator – especially her clothes – as she was herself. After some confused discussion Nisola bit the apple and they were transported to Edinburgh. Cue toing and froing trying to ameliorate Nisola’s nakedness, before they work out a solution that will serve both. There are irresistible echoes here of the tale of Adam and Eve.

A Life of Glory is narrated by a disembodied consciousness roaming the universe and looking down on the affair of a couple – one from Edinburgh the other from Colorado – with whom the narrator eventually becomes intimately entangled.

Pedant’s corner:- “Aren’t I allowed to have any secrets?” (She’s Scottish; she would say ‘Amn’t I?’) “would have been mowed smooth” (would have been mown smooth,) “with him arm around (with his arm around,) an unindented new paragraph, “supplicants” (previously the spelling suppliant had been used,) almanack (usually spelled ‘almanac’,) seelings (context suggests ‘seedlings’.) Plus points for die as the singular of dice.

Cassell, 1966, 513 p.

Being the continuing adventures of Francis Crawford of Lymond, Comte de Sévigny, following on from The Game of Kings and Queen’s Play. We start here with a small incident in the ongoing border skirmishes with English forces before Lymond sets out for Malta, the seat of the Order of the Knights of St John, currently under the corrupt leadership of Grand Master Juan de Homedès. A Turkish fleet is bearing down on the island and Lymond is accompanying a mission to warn of its approach. It is there he meets the fair and pious Sir Graham Reid Malett (known as Gabriel.)

After witnessing the fall of Gozo they engineer a message giving false information to the Turks so that their fleet sets out for Tripoli instead of attacking Malta. A small group of Knights travels there to help its defence. Lymond’s former lover Oonagh O’Dwyer, whom he previously persuaded away from would-be Irish King Cormac O’Connor, has taken up with Galatian de Césel, Governor of Gozo, but when the island is lost she falls into the hands of the Turks. It turns out she is pregnant with Lymond’s son, eventually named Khaireddin, but for most of the book he is unaware of this.

The attempts to prevent the Turks capturing Tripoli eventually failing Lymond is joined by Malett in his efforts to form and train a private army partly to police the perennial feuds in the Scottish Borders but also to make money as mercenaries.

In the meantime Malett’s young and visually captivating sister, Joleta, has been sent by him to Lymond’s mother for safe keeping. Her attitude to men, who have always it seems deferred to her beauty, is summed up her reaction to Lymond’s articulation of his feelings for her, “‘But you can’t dislike me!’” In this scene Lymond seems to act at odds with the gentlemanly demeanour we might expect of a novel’s hero. But we later find his reasons are sound.

Notably (to me anyway) the pivotal moment in the book takes place in a hostelry in Dumbarton.

Twists and turns, betrayals and unfortunate choices abound and there are several loose ends (presumably to be taken up in the three later instalments of the Lymond Chronicles.)

It all jogs along eventfully enough but there is something about Dunnett’s writing here that jars with me. Too many viewpoint jumps perhaps, too little transparency.

Pedant’s corner:- helments (helmets,) unhung (unhanged,) “nursed rom” (nursed from.) “‘Unless your  fortify’”  (‘Unless you fortify’,) pomegranite (pomegranate,) “which soaked hides at might need protect” (context suggests ‘hides it might need’,) “the knights vulnerability” (the knights’ vulnerability,) disks (discs,) demonaic (demoniac,) hiccoughing (hiccupping,) cameraderie (camaraderie,) “a oecumenical” (‘an oecumenical’, and the latter is usually, now, spelled ‘ecumenical’,) Sandilands’ (Sandilands’s,) “every man, woman and child for which the company were responsible” (for which the company was responsible,) connexion (connection,) “had reached a screaming crescendo” (had crescendoed to a screaming climax,) pollarchy (first known use of this word was in the 1850s, not in mediæval Scotland.)

Polygon, 2006, 458 p, plus iv p Introduction by David Pratt. First published in 1961.

The novels by Jenkins I have read so far have always been situated in Scotland so this one, set among the British diplomatic community in Kabul in the late 50s, marks a digression. (Jenkins did spend some in Afghanistan himself in the mid to late 50s and on the evidence here had a good insight into the country as he displays some sympathy for Afghans and their customs.)

The meat of the story is in the flurry caused by the intended marriage between local Abdul Wahab and Briton Laura Johnstone who met while he was studying in Manchester and apparently fell in love. The British set in Kabul is disturbed since the precedents for such marriages have not been happy ones. (They do mostly though seem to have been between relatively naïve young Englishwomen and Afghans who have misrepresented themselves as rich before the marriage.) One such, Mrs Mohebzada, is in despair due to her husband’s family’s insistence on her conforming to Afghan customs. She is trapped as she loves her children but they are deemed by Afghan law to be Afghani citizens and so not allowed to exit the country. Laura however is over thirty and a teacher so liable to be more level headed than most. And perhaps more strong-willed.

The universal consensus among the ex-pats is that the marriage must be prevented and steps are taken to dissuade Laura and also to lean on the headteacher of the school where she has applied to teach to turn her down and on the Afghan authorities not to give her a visa. Nevertheless, Laura persists and embarks on her visit (at first intended to be only for six months to see if she takes to the place.)

On the Aghan side Prince Naim sees the marriage as a way to symbolise a union between East and West as a step to modernising Afghanistan. All this has the potential to feed into debate about whether the women’s full body covering, here called a shaddry, enforced for locals but not for Westerners, ought to be abolished. An Islamic cleric, Mojedaji, at one point voices the opinion that, if it is, there will as a consequence be an increase in rape. (Aside. Surely this attitude speaks more about men’s behaviour than of women.) A shadowy but potentially menacing organisation called the Brotherhood attempts to recruit Wahab to its ranks – an opportunity for advancement he grabs eagerly.

Meanwhile in the background, and by no means the novel’s focus, the influence on the country of the Soviet Union is growing. A diplomatic visit by Minister Voroshilov is intermittently referenced through the book.

Racism explicit and implicit runs through the tale. Englishwoman Mrs Massaour is married to a Lebanese man and feels betrayed by the fact that both her children are deeper black than her husband. The loving marriage of journalist and poet Harold Moffatt and Lan, a woman of Chinese origin, is threatened by his reluctance to have children because of the prejudice they will suffer as ‘half-castes’.

Jenkins has Mrs Massaour venture the thought of the characteristic British failing – obtuseness, the centuries-old irremovable unawareness that other people in other countries ordered some things better. (In some British people the obtuseness was aggravated by conceit.) This is an attitude that still prevails in certain quarters.

Moffat says to his wife in relation to racism, “birds and animals join together to mob to death one that’s different from the rest. Human beings are civilized; their killing’s more subtly done, and it takes longer. It may take a lifetime, but, Christ, how much crueller it is”

The complicated relation between the British in Kabul and the local population is illustrated by the extravagant celebration of the anniversary (complete with captured guns) of an Afghan victory over the British. Such entanglements are hard to shake off especially if they keep recurring. The seeds of Afghanistan’s current situation are already present in the book.

Dust on the Paw (the title is a quote which means small people are of no significance to the wielders of power) is a book of its time – for example it employs the words Negroes, Dagos and wog along with the racist attitudes of some of its characters – but still of interest.

Pedant’s corner:- In the Introduction – “wracked by the war” (racked,) Jenkins’ (x 4, Jenkins’s,) “ex-patriot community” (ex-patriate, an ex-patriot would have foresworn their country, not clung to its ways,) iIt (It.) In the text itself: Mossaour (the spelling seems to be interchangeable with Massaour.) “‘Didn’t you use to have contempt for’” (Didn’t you used to have,) repuslive (repulsive,) “the lioness’ instinct” (x 2, lioness instinct, it doesn’t need the apostrophe – which would require an s after it in any case,) woe-begone (woebegone,) sanitorium (sanatorium; sanatoria was on the next page,) a missing quotation mark at the end of a piece of direct speech,) “stanchly borne loneliness” (staunchly borne,) Moffett (elsewhere Moffatt,) insect (it was a scorpion, they are arachnids,) solider (soldier.)

Polygon, 2018, 93 p, plus iv p General Foreword to this reprinting of Spark’s works and xii p Introduction by Dan Gunn. First published in 1971.

The events of this novella all take place over one night in the villa by Lake Leman in Switzerland owned by Baron and Baroness Klopstock.

Well, I say events, but the most significant happens off-stage, in the room where the Baron, the Baroness and their visitor, Victor Passerat, are closeted, with strict instructions not to be disturbed.

The butler, Lister, and all the servants seem to know what that event will be and act as if it is by force majeure, that there is nothing they can do to prevent it. Lister indeed insists that they must follow the script, as if they are acting in a film. In the meantime they are recording (onto a reel-to-reel tape recorder) their stories of the night.

Dan Gunn in his introduction says that the normal fear of the author of such things in including spoilers is vitiated in this case by Spark herself having Lister tell his below stairs audience what will happen. “‘Let us not split hairs’” he says, “‘between the past, present and future tenses.’” Gunn goes on to ruminate on the difference between literature in French and English in this regard. The former has more or less dropped the preterite (the passé simple) in favour of the present perfect tense, whereas in English that can quickly become stilted and unsustainable. It is, he says, merely a heightened example of Spark’s eschewing of plain foreshadowing in favour of outright prolepsis, (see my comments on possible prolepsis in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie) the novel an example of meta-fiction before that term was coined.

Be that as it may, the result here, along with the distancing effect of the present tense narration, is to make the reader simply not care what happens. If there is no jeopardy, or the jeopardy cannot be combatted, why should we carry on reading? I would go so far as to say that adopting such an approach is a dereliction of duty on the part of the author.

This novel encapsulates my reservations about Spark’s writing, which I once described as reading through a layer of glass.  Make that opaque glass.

With the possible exception of the mad man in the attic the characters are fairly unconvincing and their manners of speech indistinguishable. No one in this book behaves in any rational way. It is simply unbelievable.

Spark does, though, does essay the punning observation “Klopstock and barrel.”

I had thought to read all of Spark’s fiction in time. The more I do the less I feel like doing so.

Pedant’s corner:- “routing among the vegetables” (rooting among,) a missing comma before a piece of direct speech, scyth (scythe.)

Warner Books, 1975, 140 p.

In this sometime future, humankind has suffered many emergencies – among them a population crisis. Eventually, due to contributions from two people now known only as Him and Her, it settled on what is called Solution Three. To filter out aggression, heterosexual reproduction has been replaced – at least in the mega-cities – by clones of Him and Her. Clone Mums look after these children until they are old enough for strengthening, a process intended to replicate the stresses and strains of the lives of Him and Her and meant to lead the children to wisdom but about which they afterwards do not speak.

In this society, overseen by The Council, heterosexual sex is regarded as an obscenity except for within a group known as the Professorials and for those living in remote communities.

As one character explains, before Solution Three “Inter-sexual love, resulting in the birth of children, had been necessary. When it not only ceased to be necessary, but was seen as a menace, then the logic of history made itself felt. That age-old sexual aggression changed to non-aggressive love of man for man and woman for woman, overt aggression dropped” in the same curve as population did.

Further science-fictional gloss is provided by references to spray-on clothes but for trips outwith the mega-cities fabric ones are to be preferred.

What plot there is centres around a problem with cereal crops in Asia. Use of particular strains to the exclusion of others means that the food production system may not be robust. This leads to some of the characters beginning to question whether relying on the clones for the future of humanity may not be altogether wise.

As in Mitchison’s only other foray into SF which I have read, Memoirs of a Spacewoman, (and in contrast to her historical and Scottish fiction) there is again too much telling and not enough showing. Another of her SF works, Not by Bread Alone, is on my tbr pile. Will it suffer similarly?

Pedant’s corner:- “certain funguses” (fungi,) “Monte Video” (is this an old spelling of Montevideo?) “koala bears” (now called koalas, since they’re not bears,) “bath rooms” (bathrooms?) a missing end quote mark. chupatties (now spelled chapattis.) “Jean murmured, You’re forgetting’.” (Jean murmured, ‘You’re forgetting.’) “For a minute of two” (a minute or two,) elment (element,) “been dealth with” (dealt with.)

Harvill Secker, 2019, 234 p, including 2p Contents and 2 p Acknowledgements.

This is Logan’s latest solo collection of stories, her first, The Rental Heart and other fairytales, I reviewed here. I have also read her novels The Gracekeepers and The Gloaming.

The stories here are chiefly burdened with overly long titles eg Birds Fell From the Sky and Each One Spoke in Your Voice or We Can Make Something Between the Mushrooms and the Snow. As the title implies the subject matter tends to be dark. On the whole the collection is tinged with magic realism or outright fantasy and often tips over into horror.

The stories are prefaced and interspersed with what at first appear to be authorial interjections about the circumstances of writing the book and the author’s private life but these short passages soon evolve into what is obviously as much of a fiction as the stories which surround and envelop them.

The book is divided into three sections: The House, The Child and The Past. The first story in each is composed of four short pieces labelled respectively First Fear, Second Fear, Third Fear, and Fourth Fear but most of the stories deal with fear of one sort or another. These fears tend to be female concerns: childbirth and the things attendant on it (apprehensions about what is gestating, what has appeared, is the child safe and well? Am I a good enough mother?) abduction, rape, domestic restriction. One, about seeing a Punch and Judy Show and recognising its hideousness, is told almost entirely by way of footnotes. Another takes the form of a questionnaire – including its rubric. Another alludes to the story of Snow White but takes it in an even darker direction.

From my experience of her writing so far (see links above) Logan presents herself best, as here, at short story length.

Pedant’s corner:- “and fold it on itself” (‘fold in on itself’ makes more sense,) “for heaven’s sakes” (is USian. Britons say ‘for heaven’s sake’,) “into his screeching maw” (stomachs don’t shriek,) “aren’t I?” (Scots say ‘amn’t I?)

Picador, 2022, 397 p.

This, Stuart’s second novel, is running over much of the same ground as his first, Shuggie Bain. Again we have a mother who is neglectful due to being an alcoholic, and her three children, of whom, here, like Shuggie, Mungo is the youngest. As Shuggie did Mungo has an older brother and sister, in Mungo’s case Hamish (Ha-Ha) and Jodie respectively. Unlike in that first novel the narrative of Young Mungo does not focus on the mother, here Maureen Hamilton, who, because she wants to feel she is still young herself, that she still has a chance in life, insists on being called Mo-Maw rather than Maw, but is mostly seen from Mungo’s viewpoint. The only exceptions to this are passages relating to Jodie’s brief hours of escape from feeling responsible for Mungo – with a married man, one of her teachers no less, not much of an escape – and a brief relation of a telephone call by one of Mungo’s tormentors to his own estranged family.

Mungo is devoted to his mother a fact which Jodie in particular finds irritating. He is also unsure of how to be a man. Perhaps as an indicator of Mungo’s uncertainty Stuart has given him a nervous itch on his face, an itch he keeps scratching.

The novel as a whole is composed of two intermittently interweaved strands which recount events in “The May After” and “The December Before.” The setting is Glasgow sometime in the mid-1980s – Jodie mentions the AIDS epidemic.

In “The May After” Mungo has gone on a fishing trip up north with two men known as Gallowgate and St John. Mo-Maw consented to this as an attempt to toughen Mungo up, to make a man of him. The fact that she knew little of these two, having only met them at Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, does not bother her until too late. They take the bus north, soon coming upon “the green hills of Dumbarton.” Well, yes. Compared to Glasgow Dumbarton is green – or the green around it is more easily perceived.

“The December Before” is more the core of the book, describing Mungo’s daily life, tholing Mo-Maw’s prolonged absences from their house, making do as best he can with the help of Jodie’s administrations, his meeting with James Jamieson, who has a doocot on a scrap of waste ground backing onto a motorway, the constant chiding by Hamish (who is the local young hardman) to be more like him. Ironically it is the trip north which does that.

The inhabitants of the close where the Hamiltons live, put-upon Mrs Campbell in the flat below and Poor-Wee-Chickie on the ground floor, the latter the subject of suspicion as being thought to be gay and likely a child molester but who doesn’t care about that, are both kind souls, looking out for Mungo and Jodie. It was in December that Mungo met James and the pair began their friendship which soon grows into something deeper and to which Hamish takes great exception. For two reasons, James is Catholic and Hamish hates them (though he can’t articulate why, only that meting out violence in their direction is fun) but more importantly any hint of Mungo liking boys will reflect badly on Hamish’s standing.

A sentence describes those from more fortunate areas of Glasgow, “Middle-class Glaswegians had no loyalty, when it suited them they draped the city about themselves like a trendy jacket but they knew none of its chill, none of its need. These Glaswegians were acceptably foreign and endlessly entertaining to the English.”

Stuart writes well, his prose is well above serviceable, but I was less enamoured with the violence portrayed. Moreover, the similarities between Young Mungo and Shuggie Bain tend to detract from the impact of either book. In his next book Stuart really needs to break free from the template he has used in his first two.

The cover actually does this book a disservice. The two youngsters kissing have too much facial hair to match the description of Mungo in the novel and the kiss is more passionate, much more uninhibited, than anything that occurs between Mungo and James in the text.

Sensitivity note. Refers to “the Paki shop,” but people did in the 1980s.

Pedant’s corner:- “inside of” (just inside, no ‘of’,) skillful (USian, the British spelling is skilful,) ball-peen hammer (more often spelled ball-pein.) “Other’s didn’t like the way” (Others didn’t like..,) snuck (sneaked,) “by her stocking feet” (stockinged feet,) fit (fitted,) “as his eyes slid towards to the soundless television” (either ‘towards’ or ‘to’; not ‘towards to’,) sprung (sprang,) “Stanley knifes” (Stanley knives,) a missing comma before a piece of direct speech, “had to tilt his head backwards to breath” (to breathe,) “trying to make a man of out you” (a man out of you.)