That Was a Shiver, and Other Stories by James Kelman
| That Was a Shiver, and Other Stories by James Kelman | |
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| Category: Short Stories | |
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Reviewer: John Lloyd
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| Summary: Flashes of strong story do surface here now and again, but the rest is a deep, dark mixture of fiction whose literary riches may well elude the reader. | |
| Buy? Maybe | Borrow? Yes |
| Pages: 320 | Date: August 2017 |
| Publisher: Canongate Books | |
| ISBN: 9781786890900 | |
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This is the ninth book of short stories by this author, which means he's presented just as many collections of the short form as he has novels. You will find it hard to think of another author that has been so noted for longer works (what with How Late It Was, How Late winning the Booker) but who is so generous in presenting shorter pieces for the time-poor, or those like me who see the variety in a writer's short or less typical works to be the more interesting places to turn. Opening these pages, from the pen of such an esteemed pro, came with no small sense of anticipation.
The opening work here, 'Oh the Days Ahead', could have borne the same name as the title story, for the guy in it is acutely aware of the very attractive woman new to his bed, and her every move and breath. He's aware of her because he can hardly parse how they're together in bed but not for purposes of sex, just sleep – neither of which they get during their meandering conversation. But call it what you may, this seems the lynch-pin of the whole book at the start – the next work could also borrow its title, and the book seems to be opening like the Two Ronnies' Mastermind sketch, each piece having valid claim to the title of the work next to it; phrases get echoed in the works that come; a man on a bus feels the loss of body heat when a chap next to him gets up to disembark, much as our beau feels when the belle in bed shifts.
It may have been pure chance that wrote those patterns and reflections onto these pages; it may have been my mind. But there remains the chance that every such mirroring and repetition is utterly planned from the off, for this is one of those rare short story collections with no credit for prior publication. If this book is truthful in its omission, this is all brand new, and made just for this volume. And whether that is true or not, the book does have – much like any Kelman book you care to mention – one abiding Kelmanesque mood. Several pieces are the scattershot thoughts of witnesses – people watching others from within their homes, on busses – and often these characters are elderly. Well, fair enough – Kelman himself publishes this as a 71-year-old. My point is, the book is a larger form of one of these very stories, scattershot, self-interrupting, oddly linking backwards and forwards, concerning itself with the behaviours of the young with an elderly self-reflection, and so on.
Still, having said all that, it's the pieces that break out from the general melange that stand as the better entrants here. A man goes next door to see what noise is coming from the neighbours to give his toddlers nightmares – but what his response actually means, I'm not sure. A hobo-type has a fantasy about a woman he sees on a riverbank. Some guy back in town (from prison? working away?) appreciates the class divide he's seeing in clothes, homes and food like the finest Irvine Welsh character. A lad tries to fit in with people he's delivered some political propaganda to. A man finds himself learning about his failed marriage by the light of a child's picture book.
But my issue with the book is that that melange can be far too dark and peculiar, and carry on for too long. Here are several flash fiction-length works where the characters look at themselves and their narration through arguing with themselves about grammar. Works open at random moments – Then her feet. is one opening sentence in full – or end with no punctuation and certainly no real conclusion – And one wonders why one sighs, sighed, while the one in between my second child
I have no issue with the usual Kelman tropes of writing with zero speech punctuation, or in heavily-accented Glaswegian argot. I like his literary command of diverse characters and topics. But I have to note that ever since he won the Booker his books haven't received quite the same acclaim – and certainly haven't found their place with the general public. And I can't see this collection being well-thumbed on the stereotypical omnibus. As we were compelled to do with Worlds from the Word's End by Joanna Walsh we made it a 'literary book' and not a 'general read', and that distinction is a marked one. You will doubtless come away from here with some intriguing short pieces stuck in the mind – certainly the final, title work is a fine example – but also a darker gloom surrounding them, which may in fact the very reason they stand out.
I must thank the publishers for my review copy.
With Dirt Road being so against the Kelman standard, with its American setting, you may still wish to catch up with Mo said she was quirky to see what novels he's turning to these days.
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You can read more book reviews or buy That Was a Shiver, and Other Stories by James Kelman at Amazon.com.
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