Mark McNayCritiques

Fresh is a quick, to-the-point read that is very easy to get sucked into.

This is a day-in-the-life account of Sean; a factory worker living from week to week in a Glasgow McNay paints in very harsh colours. It's winter, it's cold and grey, the characters are strong, brutal and looking out for themselves. But despite the poverty and grime of the setting, and the harsh practicality of everyday life here which screams at you from the very first page, there is a lot of gentleness to be found in this book. Sean's relationships with his family members are profoundly touching in their quiet passion and his unravelling feelings towards his brother, Archie, become truly upsetting and poignant.

There is also dark comedy in abundance here, particularly in the bawdy humour of the main characters. For all the tension, hatred and worry of Sean's day, we find our protagonist in a series of comic situations and engaged in a number of conversations which manage to be grossly entertaining.

The working class life Fresh describes is etched and mirrored into the small details of Sean's day; the monotony of the factory conveyor belts, his conversations with colleagues, the routine of rolling his cigarettes. Set against this though are the very powerful and wonderfully evocative descriptive passages of Sean's daydreams and flights of fancy throughout the day. From the perfection of a freshly laid out Sunday lunch with a wholesome, happy family, to the idea of himself as a bathing emperor being fed cooled grapes by a slave girl, Sean's imagination add patches of colour to his otherwise drab life and speak of a desire for change and a better life that the reader feels unable to begrudge him.

Fresh isn't in any way a perfect read though. Notwithstanding his efforts at writing the Scottish accent, McNay's writing is often clunky and stilted, and although this may be an attempt to capture the language skills at work in Sean's community, it comes off as poorly thought out and badly executed. Also, after the long build up to the inevitable confrontation between the two brothers, I felt the ending left a lot to be desired and the book jerked and stumbled its way to a very unsatisfying conclusion.

Fresh is above all a book about poverty, family and choice, and a well accomplished attempt at evoking the pain and humour of life for Glasgow's working class.½

I received this novel as part of the Early Reviewers group.

Fresh is set in a single day in Glasgow, Scotland. Sean works in a chicken factory and is informed that his brother Archie is being released from prison several months early, which is a particular problem for Sean, as he owes a large sum of money to Archie that was entrusted to him when Archie was put in prison. Unfortunately Sean has spent a large portion of this, and so he attempts to scrape together enough money to pay Archie back.

The story is written from Sean's point of view, and is told, in the main, using a Scottish dialect in a similar style to Irvine Welsh. There are also a large number of flashbacks telling the story of Sean and Archie growing up together and Archie's descent into crime, as well as several shorter fantasy elements that show Sean daydreaming.

This is Mark McNay's debut novel, and is an enjoyable read. The story is fast-paced and both gritty and funny. Even when Sean has managed to pay Archie back, we are shown he still cannot escape the presence of his brother and ultimately he has to make difficult decisions as to whether to put his own family ahead of his brother.

This is Mark McNay’s first novel and clearly draws on first hand knowledge of the day to day grind of a certain working class life where a full belly, a warm fire and a good woman is perfection. It fits within a British tradition of “kitchen sink realism” kicked of by John Osbourne’s “Look back in Anger” in the 50’s that looks at the dreams and anger of the working class man and woman. Think of Alan Sillitoe’s Saturday night and Sunday morning or the film work to the current day of Ken Loach and Mike Leigh, both of whom continue to create powerful films unafraid of tackling head on current social problems.

The story follows a day in the life of Sean working in a chicken packing factory**, who discovers that his Brother Archie has come out of jail early ( in for violence and drugs related crime). This sets up a chain of events with tragic consequences as Sean has spent most of a money clip he was banking for his brother. He desperately struggles during the course of the day to borrow the money from family and from the firm. The novel also by flashbacks reveals Sean’s and Archie’s childhood and life up to the events of the day. Sean is no angel; he gambles, takes a more or less willing part as a pick up in his brother’s drug’s network and will use his fists. But unlike his brother does with his family needs in mind- his own and that of his uncle and aunt who gave him a home when his father left and mother died. And it’s for his family that he has to fight for as the day develops.

The story unfolds through a lot of dialogue and switches between first and third person perspectives rather then description although we get’s Sean’s flights of imagination for colour. The dialogue is written in Glaswegian but it doesn’t jar and often it’s in the silences between characters that speak more. The speech patterns (expect sentences where F**k can be a noun, verb, adjective and have several meanings from love to hate! and the mundane events of the day convey tenderness, violence and humour in scene after scene with warm believable characters.

It’s remarkable that the author started a creative writing course in his late forties in 1999 which lead to this award winning (Arts Foundation New Fiction 2007) novel. Hope for all us yet! It is by no means perfect, as the ending is a little flat and the characterisation of Archie teeters on the edge of caricature but it’s an easy page turner and I can’t wait for the Ken Loach channel four adaptation that surely must be in pre production talks as you read this!

** and you may want to rethink eating cheap value chicken after reading the book!

Fresh by Mark McNay, its about two brothers from Glasgow, how they have grown apart and the lead up to the inevitable conclusion. Its written in a sort of pigeon Glaswegian in a similar stylised fashion as Irvine Welsh (complete with optional punctuation), which made my head hurt, but still its well written and you'll want to read to the end despite the writing style, the fact that it takes its own sweet time to get there, and the ending is a little predictable. I guess that doesn't make it sound attractive prospect but its good entertainment.

Read for Early Reviewers, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. A day in the life of the main character, Sean, is laid before us against the bleak, snowy background of a tough working day in a chicken factory in Glasgow. Sean's love for his family shines through the tough talk and tough laughs of the excellent dialogue. I have to disagree with some previous reviews - rather than stilted and clunky, I found the dialogue realistic and I really felt a great sympathy with the protagonist as he tried to break away from his relationship with his dysfunctinal brother and live a simple, happy life with his family.

I particularly enjoyed Sean's daydreams in which he was always a heroic figure, champion fighter, always in control and quietly adored by those around him. Set this against his life spiraling out of control when his brother is released early from prison. Even when Sean believes his debts to be paid it is clear that he cannot escape the menacing clutch of his brother.

This is gritty reading, darkly humerous and grossly violent by turns. Highly recommended - just don't read it over a plate of chicken portions!½

Time to pay my dues for this Early Reviewer book. I read this is just over a couple of hours or two days worth of train journeys. I'm going to start with some criticisms of the book.

Fortunately, my complaints all fall under "typographical" issues really. The lack of the quotation marks threw me. And would it have killed them to have some distinction between real world and the internal fantasy monologues?

Having said that, I liked the use of internal fantasy monologues. I think it built up Sean's character in a way I don't see often in the books I generally read.

Overall though it was an alright book, perhaps not one I would pick up normally (actiony/drama stuff isn't really my thing), but I'm glad I read it.½

Tough, rough, simple, imaginative and excellent.

This book is a page turning gem that I finished after two days reading. Mark McNay manages to conjure up a realistically frighteningly funny tale of Scottish working class reality. It is rare that I am so engrossed in pulp fiction but McNay manages to consume with his wit and consummate writing. His diversions into the characters pasts and the main protagonists imagination are effortless and timed to perfection.

This front line fictional writing is of a stature not to be missed. My only complaint would be about a slightly predictable ending. But, it is a small price to pay for a highly entertaining read.

My first book as part of the Early Reviewer's Project and what a great start for me. A quick read? Sure. An easy read? That too. Simplistic? Not so sure about that, lots of well observed detail about Scottish working class life, about growing up as a man, about work and love and fear and family. Lost of depth there, explored in lots of levels.

I had one heartsink moment when I thought the author was going to take a well-trodden route, put the book down, but steeled myself, and was delighted that he'd found another way. I don't know whether you'd have to be a Scot to really get the book. Certainly there's a lot of Glesga patter, and the distinctive humour is both cruel and affectionate.

I found myself caring a lot about Sean and getting caught up in his situation, wondering how, if, he was going to resolve it. Only afterwards did I catch on to the tension between the different solutions on offer: The nice, official, civilised, legal or the scarier, rougher, more macho...

Let's hope the other Early Reviewer books are as good as this one.

I received this book as part of the Early Reviewers programme, but having read it (which doesn't take very long, mind) I am in something of a quandary. I am very keen to give it a positive rating if I can, but I find myself completely unable to do so.

Let me say at once in its defence that the book has been praised by several newspapers and has won an award. None of that changes my opinion that this is a very bad novel. The writing style is simplistic in the extreme, almost as though the author makes it a principle never to use any word of more than two syllables. Sentences are short and consequently the text feels very disjointed. Description and characterisation are kept to a minimum.

Why does somebody bother to write a book like this, and why should anyone bother to read it? One feels no sense of identification or sympathy with any of the characters. It is like watching (with a strong sense of detachment) a brief film of revolting people doing and saying mundane and revolting things.

Perhaps I am just deeply out of tune with the "modern novel", if that hasn't become an oxymoron in itself. Have we really become so culturally bankrupt that something like this should be praised as good writing? See someone like Frank McGillion or Christopher Brookmyre (or even, for heaven's sake, Irvine Walsh) for very much better examples of comtemporary Scottish literarture.

Incidentally, I have never read a Canongate book before, and will not be encouraged to do so in the future.

Fresh, not Foul

Mark McNay's debut novel Fresh, set in Glasgow's industrial district, comes to us packed with smells.

Open to any page and you'll be overwhelmed by the stale stink of cigarettes which are consumed by nearly all characters at the rate of about one every five paragraphs. Fresh should come with a warning from the surgeon general.

Then there's the musky lust of men and women engaged in down-n-dirty lovemaking, grabbing their passion whenever and wherever they can.

Also sticking to the little hairs in your nostrils is the rotten-meat stench of a million dead chickens at the processing plant where the main character, Sean O'Grady, works double shifts in the Fresh section, pulling dead chickens off the conveyor belt and hanging them on the hooks which criss-cross a room the size of an aircraft hanger.

But mostly there's the smell of sweaty fear and desperation which clings to every page of the novel. Fresh takes place entirely on one Friday in Sean's life, with intermittent flashbacks telling us how Sean ended up in his current predicament. What begins as just another soul-grinding day at the chicken factory quickly takes a turn for the nervous when Sean hears his violent older brother Archie has just got out of prison. Sean knows he'll be one of the first people Archie looks up when he gets to town because he's holding a thousand pounds in safekeeping for Archie.

Except there's just one problem. Sean has spent most of the money. He gambled it away and used it for family vacations, thinking he'd have plenty of time to earn it back before Archie got out of prison. When Sean learns that Archie has been unexpectedly released early, his stomach falls through the floor and the rest of the book details his clammy-palmed efforts to scrape together enough cash to appease his older brother, a career criminal and drug addict who has a temper the length of a gnat's leg.

The deeper Sean gets stuck in the mire of his own bad choices and bad luck, the more you root for him to triumph (or at least survive this bloody Friday). McNay never lets the pace sag as Sean careens through his day. Fresh gathers momentum as complication builds upon complication, like a bowling ball bouncing down a stairwell, all the way to its inevitable conclusion.

We all know how noir-hued plots like this turn out. It's not a pretty sight. But McNay manages to pull off several surprises along the way to the point where brother collides with brother. More than just a white-knuckled ride, however, Fresh is a detailed portrait of Glasgow's modern urban jungle; the book will cling to you like cold, clammy fog. The thugs, the unrelenting Scottish slang, the pitiless violence, and the ugly side of chicken processing make this hard to swallow at times. But I can't think of a more rewarding book I've read this year. Fresh goes down bitter but has a pleasant aftertaste.

And yet, it's not all dark skies and nicotine. Every so often, in the midst of crude brutality, McNay slips in a moment of unexpected tenderness—especially in the scenes between Sean and his uncle, a fellow worker at the chicken factory. This book has as much heart as it does knuckle punches to the gut.