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A review by jessdekkerreads
Young Mungo by Douglas Stuart
5.0
Stuart’s sophomore novel has become a favorite of 2022 for me, so far. I was entranced by this story. I found myself savoring every bit of it, stretching the story, making it last as long as I possibly could.
This story follows Mungo Hamilton, a young queer boy living amongst the working class in Glasgow in the 1980s, where many are divided by religion. And while that presents its own set of problems, his home life isn’t short of its own troubles: a mother who loses herself in alcohol, so much so she becomes an entirely different person, often abandoning her family for weeks at a time; a violent older brother, who happens to be a local Protestant gang leader; and a sister, who assumes the role of mother, yet dreams of escape. Told in alternating timelines, in the first, we follow Mungo as he finds love with a young, Catholic, soft spoken boy named James, and how that love is shrouded in danger; and a timeline set in the not so distant future, where Mungo is forced by his mother on a fishing trip with two strange men, under the guise of showing him how “to be a man.”
I felt so strongly for Mungo, struggling with identity, surrounded by toxic masculinity, “I wish I wasn’t like this, James. I wish I was all right but I’m not” – and also so desperately craving love and safety. Always being told who he should be, how he should act, what he needed…until he found James, and as much as that love felt dangerous, the danger became worth it in the end, to feel safe amongst that relationship, to feel, finally, like he was who he was meant to be all along, with someone who accepted him for all he was, who didn’t ask him to be anyone but himself. Yes, the novel is dark and bleak and at times incredibly heartbreaking to read, but I lost myself in the love they shared and the character of Mungo himself.
What struck me most as I turned the last page, was the final scene, which I won’t give away here, but how cinematic it felt. I reread that last page over and over, it gave me goosebumps, it felt ambiguous but in the best possible way, and overall hopeful, and it made me realize that those are the types of endings I love most.
Rich and tender, vivid and gripping with much more suspense than I was anticipating, I just couldn’t put this one down.
Many trigger warnings with this one, it’s bleak, it’s dark and deals with some heavy subject matter, including violence, homophobia, rape, and sexual assault.
This story follows Mungo Hamilton, a young queer boy living amongst the working class in Glasgow in the 1980s, where many are divided by religion. And while that presents its own set of problems, his home life isn’t short of its own troubles: a mother who loses herself in alcohol, so much so she becomes an entirely different person, often abandoning her family for weeks at a time; a violent older brother, who happens to be a local Protestant gang leader; and a sister, who assumes the role of mother, yet dreams of escape. Told in alternating timelines, in the first, we follow Mungo as he finds love with a young, Catholic, soft spoken boy named James, and how that love is shrouded in danger; and a timeline set in the not so distant future, where Mungo is forced by his mother on a fishing trip with two strange men, under the guise of showing him how “to be a man.”
I felt so strongly for Mungo, struggling with identity, surrounded by toxic masculinity, “I wish I wasn’t like this, James. I wish I was all right but I’m not” – and also so desperately craving love and safety. Always being told who he should be, how he should act, what he needed…until he found James, and as much as that love felt dangerous, the danger became worth it in the end, to feel safe amongst that relationship, to feel, finally, like he was who he was meant to be all along, with someone who accepted him for all he was, who didn’t ask him to be anyone but himself. Yes, the novel is dark and bleak and at times incredibly heartbreaking to read, but I lost myself in the love they shared and the character of Mungo himself.
What struck me most as I turned the last page, was the final scene, which I won’t give away here, but how cinematic it felt. I reread that last page over and over, it gave me goosebumps, it felt ambiguous but in the best possible way, and overall hopeful, and it made me realize that those are the types of endings I love most.
Rich and tender, vivid and gripping with much more suspense than I was anticipating, I just couldn’t put this one down.
Many trigger warnings with this one, it’s bleak, it’s dark and deals with some heavy subject matter, including violence, homophobia, rape, and sexual assault.