Ever since Christmas, my mood has been somewhat black. Life hasn’t held a great deal of spark since then — too many weighty things on my mind. One too many worried nights…too much high emotion from people close to me, bombarding my defences from all sides…
I’ve been wallowing on the fringes of darkness…which probably explains why I was attracted to deadkidsongs, written by up-and-coming British author Toby Litt.
This is the story about four boys who live in the small town of Amplewick. It’s the story of their growth, both physical and pshychological. It’s the story of the obsession with war, fighting, games…but most of all, it’s the story of broken ideals, of friendship raised in unnatural circumstances. It’s the story of lack of communication, and of the effects that it can have on unprepared minds (and who could ever be prepared for such thing).
Written in monologues, it’s a powerful, razor-sharp look at children trying to cope with what they believe to be an adult world — but one that is twisted by their upbringing. In the summery, golden setting of a 1970s English town, we have child and wife abuse, murder plots, sexual awakening, and the testing of how far friendship can stretch. By turns, it’s bleak, funny, terrifying, and contemplative. Somehow, I find this attitude typically British.
It’s a stunning piece of work — the best work of fictional psychology I’ve ever read. There are moments that are truly horrifying, compounded by the reality that everything that occurs in this book is not beyond the capability of any nine year old boy. And for a reader like myself, who has been swimming in a kiddie-pool of dark thoughts, it makes for both a critical examination of human cruelty AND a stunning black comedy.
My only concern is with the final chapter. It’s written in the manner of a war-time pseudo-communique, and while it’s stylistically brilliant, I think it pulls the reader out of the compelling reality nurtured by the previous 90% of the book. But it’s a small price to pay for the overall sumptuousness that Toby Litt delivers up to this point.
By far the best book I’ve read in some considerable time, deadkidsongs isn’t for the timid. It’s raw, it’s poignant, it’s unnerving, it’s provocative. It’s a work of genius, and it fell into my hands at just the right moment in my life.
I should have switched to something happy for my next read. Something that would have taken my mind off the less savoury aspects of life.
Instead, I’ve plunged into a Doctor Who novel with the light and airy title of Fear of the Dark….
It never rains…but it pours.
