Name: How Late it Was, how Late
Rating: 4.5 (4 reviews)
ISBN: 9780393327991

James Kelman

Waking up after a two-day drinking binge, ex-convict and shoplifter Sammy gets in a fight, lands in jail, goes blind, loses his girlfriend, and becomes embroiled in the Glasgow welfare system. Reprint. Winner of the 1994 Booker Prize.

How Late it Was, how Late

In Scotland, the portrait of a petty crook who had one run-in with police too many. It is a series of reflections as he sits in jail, contemplating his fate. He had been in trouble before, but this time it's different, the latest brawl with police cost him his eyesight. Now in addition to all his other troubles he is blind.

How late it was, how late

Cams Campbell

I just read this novel for the second time and enjoyed it a lot. The first Kelman book I read was A Dissafection, back when I was on my year abroad in Odessa in 1995. Upon my return I got How Late it Was, How Late and liked it a little better.

The novel is written in the Glasgow dialect, which is very close to the Ayrshire dialect that I grew up with. It's partly the poetry of that language that really appeals to me. Having studied linguistics and socio-linguistics probably makes the book more appealing to me than it might to others, as well as the fact that I do not have any trouble with comprehension (as when I read A Clockwork Orange because I speak Russian - not sure if that spoiled that for me but that's another story for another time). 

The story is a slice of life, social realism in great form. It doesn't have a traditional beginning, middle and end, rather it portrays the events that surround the main character, the bold Sammy, over a period of a few days. He gets into a scrape with the sodjers (the police) early on and winds up blind. We then follow his journey through the police cells, the benefits offices, medical assessors and such like. 

I would certainly class this novel as literature rather than throwaway. I'm not sure how enjoyable it would be for anyone that struggled with the dialect but I'd be interested to know.

Giovanni Garcia-Fenech 

This is an excellent novel (don’t take it from me – it won the Booker Prize) about a lowlife drunk and the indignities he suffers trying to get welfare. That it’s written in an accent would usually get on my nerves fast, but Kelman is simply too good. Here’s how it starts: “Ye wake in a corner and stay there hoping yer body will disappear, the thoughts smothering ye; these thoughts; but ye want to remember and face up to things, just something keeps ye from doing it, why can ye no do it; the words filling yer head: then the other words; there’s something wrong; there’s something far far wrong; ye’re no a good man, ye’re just no a good man.”

I.m. ruzz

normally i would have lots to say about an interesting book like this, but for now--having been offline for three weeks--i will just say read it. enjoy it. love it. feel it. 

this is the experience.

How Late it Was, how Late

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