A review by kirstypotter
How Late It Was, How Late by James Kelman

3.0

This is really not my type of book but I ended up enjoying it a lot - although this was largely down to my Scottish identity. I'll admit that I felt a certain sense of familiarity whilst reading this - Sammy's narration seemed like an elongated version of a facebook status from one of my mutual friends-who-are-not-really-my-friends. The stream of consciousness style was taken to the extreme, with a lack of punctuation, capital letters and lots and lots of swearing. It was a challenge having no chapters in a novel of almost 400 pages, and I think that if I didn't understand the dialogue I wouldn't have liked this at all. Recommend to anyone who likes Trainspotting and wants to know more about how shite it is to be Scottish.