How Late It Was, How Late

How Late It Was, How Late: A Novel by James Kelman


My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Wham! You’re blind. Just like that; you wake up and realise that suddenly you’re totally blind. And you’re in jail, and you’ve suffered a pretty bad beating. Maybe your ribs are cracked, you can hardly breathe.

You’re craving a smoke, missing your girlfriend, and thinking about where to get your next drink. When the cops throw you out onto the pavement, you don’t know how you’re going to get home.

This is Sammy’s world. He paces the streets of Glasgow with a homemade white-tipped stick and a never-give-up attitude. Although Sammy faces just about the worst of circumstances--blind, broke, dirty, homeless, unemployed, friendless, and in trouble with the law--he doesn’t ever give up. He talks himself through the difficult situations until he can pull himself back together.

I love the language in this book. I really do, I’m not just saying that. Not just the Glasgow dialect but the swearing too: I’ve always admired people who can swear convincingly, because I could never pull it off.

I think this book could win a prize for highest ‘fuck’ count. Here we go--open to random page (51), count number of times ‘fuck’ appears (18); multiply by number of pages (373)... that gives us around 6,700. I’m sure that’s high. But still, it’s great; somehow it comes across as totally convincing.

We’re in Sammy’s head a lot of the time, and his internal monologue is colourful. But it’s poetry, I swear. Listen:

It was black, things seemed black. It was usual, it was usual; that was what he was thinking, the words in his head, it was the usual. Then they had him into the poky and it was more of the same. (6)

It’s incredibly smooth-flowing and rhythmic. When I got into it, I was immersed.

Never. Fucking never. Never as bad as this. It was alright saying ye had to relax, ye had to take it easy, it was alright saying that but ye cannay always manage. No if it was the worst ye had, if it was the worst, cause it was fucking happening and it wasnay a nightmare it was right fucking now, right fucking now so okay, okay, ye still had to relax, ye still had to take it easy, okay, ye had to get it under control, it wasnay a time for cracking up, we’ve all cracked up, we know what fucking cracking up means, this wasnay a time for it, know what I’m saying, this wasnay a time for it, so there’s nay fucking problem ye just let it go, let it go. (44)

That’s what I mean about how Sammy talks himself through the bad moments. The whole book is kind of like one long conversation Sammy has with himself, where other people occasionally get a word in.

There are beautiful moments when Sammy feels optimistic, even happy. He’s a fighter and he has his pride; you just have to admire that.

Being honest he felt quite good. When ye think about the last few days. He hadnay flung in the towel anyway man that was one thing. These bastards, they think they can just fuck ye; ye’ll go and lie down out the road. They didnay know yer man, no like they thought they did. (79)

This was a complex book that I'll admit wasn't easy to get through, but ultimately was a great experience to read. It took me about 250 pages to notice that there are NO chapters. I kept waiting for a chapter so I could go to bed, and, 250 pages later... But that's what I mean, I was immersed.

View all my reviews >>