A review by macloo
Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart

4.0

This is at least a 4.5-star book, a gut-wrenching story of a little boy whose mother suffers from alcoholism that becomes increasingly worse, as he eventually becomes her sole caregiver before he's even in his teens. The writing is sublime, with Shuggie's observations believable and sweet and heartbreaking. His miserable Glasgow neighborhood on the edge of a barren coalfield, populated by mean children and deadened adults, offers no comfort at all. No one looks out for him. No one befriends him. Eventually, he is utterly alone.

Given all this, why should the reader subject herself to this awful sadness? For Shuggie's sake. He's not hardened. He remains as soft and tender as a baby bunny. He's gay ("He was gay in the womb," as some say) and doesn't realize it himself, but everyone around him seems completely certain of the fact almost the instant they lay eyes on him, and in 1980s Glasgow that brands him, makes him outcast. His speech, his sensibilities, his fashion sense, all give him away like a turtle with no protective shell. (His older brother tries to teach him to walk in a manly way, and Shuggie tries, but with limited success.) The story is about survival and the miraculous fact of that survival — that the boy remains himself, and lives.

This novel won the Booker Prize in 2020.

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