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Kelman does not write books that can be read quickly. This monologue is presented as the interior thoughts of a young boy growing up in poverty in Glasgow. Nothing is immediately impressive in the writing; it is "just" a steady flow of dialect - no arc or defining moment. I suspect it is extremely well-done and maybe too authentic. I loved the passages about climbing walls/drainpipes/trees, but there is also a lot of boring boy-child thoughts.
Liz_M 3.5 🌟 #1001books, #reading1001 6y
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