How Late It Was, How Late by James Kelman

I feel quite a sense of achievement and relief in finishing my most recent read; the 1994 winner.  Partly because it was a slog reading the infamous Glaswegian vernacular (although not wholly consistent!) in its unbroken form and partly due to the grim reality that it was describing.  It wasn’t enjoyable but still worthwhile as the constant stream of consciousness meant that I was fully immersed in the mind and inner monologue of a blind, Glaswegian, ex-convict whether I wanted to or not.  It wasn’t pleasant to spend time with one’s senses so curtailed by the protagonist, Sammy’s, blindness caused by an injury sustained while in custody and also the sense of him seemingly being incapable of improving his situation.  The absence of description of visual stimuli and hence the introspection, was echoed by Sammy’s sense of isolation from having to defend himself from the hardness of his life, which was brilliantly conveyed by Kelman. 

I found the lack of kindness and compassion in his existence which had lead to mistrust of others particularly affecting, especially in his vulnerable state.  When he is approached by the character Ally, who offers to represent him in compiling a compensation claim, my first reaction was one of suspicion as I adopted Sammy’s own sense of paranoia about what is going to befall him.

The lack of chapters, paragraphs and punctuation was an interesting concept, and has made me ponder the reliance on these conventions.  In particular the lack of chapters was perhaps the most disturbing, as I realised how I depended on the chunks to form convenient breaks in proceedings to signal a return to my own narrative reality.  Conversely, I am not a fan of the overuse of the chapter either, where writers use a cliff-hanger at the end of every chapter to propel the story forward at a hectic pace.  Therefore I guess for me the best option is the judicial use of the chapter which deserves due consideration and enhances the nature of the narrative as opposed to being conspicuous in its presence (or absence).  Overall, this book, despite its tough and repulsive exterior, had a great deal to offer and was challenging in many different ways and worth persevering with (although I’m sure many people would and have debated this!).

Onwards I go with the challenge and I anticipate the 2012 winner shortly with the revealing of the shortlist earlier this month.  I can’t say I was overly excited about seeing Hilary Mantel’s sequel to Wolf Hall on the list…but otherwise I am open and interested to discover which book will be joining my list of Bookers still to read!

The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes

It has been quite an absence I am sorry to say, as I haven’t been doing much reading lately.  I confess to having been distracted by Wimbledon, the Olympic and Paralympic games, moving house and general summer activities.  Also, my reading quest hasn’t been aided by my reluctance to pick up ‘How Late It Was, How Late’, the Booker I was reading, and am still in the process of reading.  I decided to take a quick interlude in the form of the most recent prize-winning novel by Julian Barnes.  And I must say it was an engaging interlude as I read it in one sitting soaking up some late summer sunshine.

I liked the structure of the novel being in two parts (with no chapters; something I will discuss further in my next review of the aforementioned ‘How Late It Was, How Late’).  The first part recounts the protagonist’s past focusing particularly on his latter school years and a relationship while studying at university.  The second part is many years later as a will bequest throws past events into the present for the protagonist.  He is forced to re-examine past relationships to unravel the mysterious bequest and the reasons behind it. 

I found it a thought-provoking novel enhanced by its discussion of the subjective nature of memory, how the significance of particular recollections of people or events can be influenced by life as it unfolds.  Also I thought Barnes’ reflections about growing up were especially pertinent; how somebody young is waiting for life to start, to unfold as though in literature and how this outlook evolves as time passes.

‘The Sense of an Ending’ was a pleasant and intriguing read and I enjoyed its approach to the story, however, I found the ending rather underwhelming.  Although not as short as ‘Offshore’, this slight volume may be difficult to make a lasting impression amongst some of the other heavyweight prize-winners.