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

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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