Hard going
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I guess James Kelman isn't everyone's cup of tea. He seems (from reading only two of his works!) to do interior monologue of down at heel, ordinary folk very well. The trouble is, the interior monologue of down at heel, ordinary folk can be quite repetitive and rather dull. And, in case anyone is wondering, nothing happens. There isn't some brilliant twist that pulls it together at the end. Wysiwyg.
Having read A Disaffection, I feel that I know Patrick Doyle pretty well.I understand his failings and inadequacies. I understand how he is envious of his brother's family, as his brother is envious of Partick's education and job. I understand how hopeless is his infatuation with Alison and his inability to deal with women. But I'm not sure it was worth investing two weeks of very slow reading to get to this point. Maybe I'm just shallow...
Don't get me wrong, I didn't hate the book. Neither do I imagine it will fade from the memory as quickly as the latest murder mystery. It is a deep study of human nature. But I'm quite glad now to have my hands on a murder mystery as an antidote.
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Kelman's Best Novel
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If there's one thing to be said about Kelman's A Disaffection, besides the fact that one wonders whether or not its detractors have actually read it, is that it is, in fact, superior to How Late It Was, How Late. Unlike that novel, it manages to be both a novel of an interior journey and to-the-point, much in the way of James Joyce or John McGahern succeed. It's unfair that there's so much mental red tape surrounding James Kelman's work. See how many otherwise intelligent newspaper reviewers rush to cite Irvine Welsh's influence upon anything realistic and featuring vernacular scots, a tradition dating centuries, (and also present in the work of Kelman's equally remakable contemporaries Janice Galloway, Agnes Owens, Alasdair Gray and Jeff Torrington). Such goons in the reviewing world mistake the Regent for the Monarch. The same could be said no less of other writers who have reaped more exposure - and more money - from Kelman's example. Roddy Doyle, for instance, or Niall Griffiths. Through Patrick Doyle's mind we witness the working-class scot/holy fool letting fly at a petty, judgemental world with everything he has, beginning his rebellion against the world. Though it was written in (and by) the 1980's, the time of greed, vastly widening inequality (Doyle works in a comprehensive, and the scenes here are absolutely true to life) and tabloid-backed Thatcherism, there are no references that date the novel. The difference between Kelman and his friend and contemporary Alasdair Gray is that the endless dialogue of self and society is not conducted through opposing characters but in the mind of one narrator. This world of interior defiant richness and oddness against the real world makes the novel not only raid but consolidate territory only Kafka and Hamsun have previously held. As a result, by the end of the novel we feel we've sat through something as purgatively exhausting as a greek tragedy. The fact that there is a rich seam of humour in Kelman's novel - like in all his work - should not be overlooked, either. It was the natural winner of the James Tait Black Memorial Prize in 1989, and held a well-deserved place on the booker list of that year. (No shame in going up agaisnt The Remains of the Day, Restoration and The Book of Evidence, though) And i don't usually care for that type of thing. Buy.
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depressing tedium
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Goes nowhere, does nothing except depress the reader (which may be the whole point of course, but who *really* wants to spend a couple of days with this guy?), "experimental" techniques with language = mostly poor writing (in my opinion of course!). A book that those who like to think they are in the know will love, but that most people will reject or give up as the hopeless tosh it is.
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The most important novel of the 1980s
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Pat Doyle is a 29-year-old teacher who hates his job, and develops a crush on a fellow colleague, Alison. The story opens when he picks up a pair of pipes from outside the art centre. Throughout the novel he treats the pipes, and Alison, as a means of escapism - to the point of obsession. Naturally, it looks as if neither of these desires will transpire to much, mainly because Pat appears to be a dreamer. Even when he seems to take positive steps, we are sceptical. Kelman uses familiar surroundings and dialect to create something entirely original. Like A Chancer, there's a sense of frustration when the main character seems so trapped - usually due to a lack of money and motivation. This could be said to mirror Kelman's own life; in an interview he's mentioned that his wife still has to work at the Social Security, despite him winning the Booker Prize for his novel How Late it was, How Late. The key to the success of this book - aside from the deep sense of character so common in Kelman's work - is in the experimental language. There are traces of Joycean stream-of-consciousness, but with none of the pretension attributed to copyists, and, most importantly, no sense of the confusion common in Ulysses or Finnegans Wake. We may not know all of the literary references, but we definitely understand. This is one of the most important novels of the 80s - if not ever. It's certainly one of Kelman's best.
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