Gritty and raw, this beautifully written novel is the story of Shuggie, a young boy born into poverty and destined to be different.
It’s also the story of his mother Agnes and how she struggles with alcoholism and at the mercy of men who brutalise and break her.
It’s bleak and dark but it’s also exquisite to read. Stuart doesn’t spare you the small details that bring the reality and despair to life.
Uplifting, brutal, devastating. This novel fully deserves its many plaudits.
Wholeheartedly recommended.

I wasn't convinced I would enjoy Shuggie Bain. I'm not a fan of weighty sagas about poverty and the plight of the working man. Particularly in that bleak bread, dripping and beer after a day of toiling in the mines way.

And initially I struggled a little with Shuggie. Well, not Shuggie himself but the book. There was no doubt however, it's brilliantly written. But Shuggie's story grew on me and Stuart's writing enchanted me.

This story is bookended in 1992 with a sixteen year old Shuggie. In between we meet Shuggie (first) when he's just five in 1981. I loved the seemingly resilient Shuggie we meet in 1992 and felt desperately sad for the younger Shuggie and the 'lot' he's been dealt in life.

His mother Agnes infuriated me, though that's intentional. I'm not sure Stuart wants us to feel sympathy for Agnes. We get some insight into her background - her... potential, if you like - but by the time we meet her she's basically a self-centred narcissistic alcoholic.

She left her first husband for Shug and moved (with Shug) and her oldest two children into her parent's place. Years later young Shuggie has come along and Agnes is no happier. Of course when Shug (Sr) promises her a better life (again) she burns bridges, leaving her devoted parents for a fresh start. And as expected the lives of the Agnes, Catherine, Leek and Shuggie go from bad to worse.

This unfolds from the points of view of Shuggie and Agnes. Though it's often almost as if there's an omnipresent narrator. It felt as if someone removed from it all is telling us the story rather than it being from someone's point of view. I'd suggest it breaks the famous 'show, don't tell' writing rule but Stuart's storytelling is tragic, poignant and often pragmatic.

Shuggie is sure he can change his mother and it's incredibly sad he believes he's not 'enough' to make her want to change. It's heartbreaking and heartaching. And yes I know the latter isn't a word, but it should be. It perfectly describes Shuggie's inability to give up on his mother. His determination that - no matter what - he will be there for her and he will have responsibility for her for the rest of his life.

"My mammy had a good year once. It was lovely." p 429

His older brother Leek tries to warn him not to hold out hope.

"Don't make the same mistake as me. She's never going to get better. When the time is right you have to leave. The only thing you can save is yourself." p 356

I found myself pondering the responsibility of siblings for each other. I suspect custody arrangements were a little loose at the time (and in the circumstances) and frustrated Shuggie's much-older siblings didn't try to remove him from the situation.

Scattered amongst the debris of the family's lives is the occasional glimmer of wistfulness. Agnes continues to hold out hope her life will improve, but seems intent on having someone else do that for her. And Shuggie remains determined that - no matter what - he will be there for his mother. I wanted him to escape but could understand his dilemma. 

"Now when Shuggie watched her drink he could see she had lost the taste for a good time. She was drinking to forget herself, because she didn't know how else to keep out the pain and the loneliness." pp 323-324

I liked young Shuggie and knew from the table of contents we only return to the ambitious resilient Shuggie (I'd imagined) I met in the book's opening near the end. I confess to being disappointed with the book's conclusion. I mean, I know I probably would have balked at a happily ever after or some sort of unrealistic rags-to-riches tale but I closed the book still feeling depressed rather than hopeful.

The book is very real in that sense. It's a reminder that we don't necessarily get what we wish for. That - as per Agnes - many of us live our lives in quiet desperation.

I'd most certainly recommend this read. It's not uplifting as such. But it's also not ENTIRELY depressing. We're reminded that we can have hope, but it can lead to disappointment. Importantly we're reminded to take joy in the small things. We find friends or make connections and get by as best we can.

4.5 stars

3.5* for authenticity
Booker prize 2020 winner.
We follow Shuggie Bain in this bleak coming of age drama set in the 80’s in Glasgow.
It follows his harsh life from 6 to 16
There’s a lot of Glaswegian dialect which I was ok with. Due to the era there are some non PC terms used.
I found the back stories of his parents too involved.
I found the pace too slow, and the story dismal and depressing which made for hard reading. It is also very sad and emotional. I loved that although Shuggie living on his own while trying to get schooling had so little he was willing to help out someone else with even less, that tore at my heartstrings.
It feels like a very accurate depiction.

Shuggie Bain lives with his alcoholic mother and despite his young age has to look after her as well as trying to go to school. A heart rending story of how he still loves her despite all the problems
It’s hard to imagine living like this but it was all realistically brought to life

Oh no i was too late to read this one on Netgalley but I know I would have loved it - so 5 stars in anticipation!

A hard-hitting gut punch of a book, Shuggie Bain tells the tale of a young Scottish boy's childhood, raised by an alcoholic single mother. The youngest of three children, Shuggie becomes the one left holding the fort when his older sister moves to South Africa with her boyfriend, and his older brother gets thrown out by their Mum for trying to intervene. Despite his tender years, he becomes the man of the house, trying to keep up with school, deal with his mum and also deal with the bullies and abusers who lurk ready to pounce at any available moment.
The story is rooted in reality, based on debut author Stuart's own upbringing, so the details are stark and often hard to read. As a reader I went through frustration, despair, stress, tension, exasperation and a whole rollercoaster ride of other emotions. Yet, at the center of it all is the big pulsing heart of love - the unconditional love of a son for his mother. And it's this heart that stops it from all becoming too crushing.
The gloom isn't unrelenting either, there are so many moments of light as the story unfolds - periods of sobriety, periods of relative wealth, periods of happiness, yet there's always an undercurrent of them being temporary, a flimsy house of cards waiting to topple at the opening of a can of Special Brew.
This is not an easy read but it is incredibly rewarding and beautifully written. You end up feeling like one of Shuggie's neighbours in the The Pit, twitching at your net curtains to keep an eye on the weird boy with the showy mother who thinks she's better than the rest of us. Highly recommended.

This must be one of the most powerful accounts of alcoholism that I've ever read. “Shuggie Bain” follows the early life of its eponymous hero, but really this novel and Shuggie himself are dedicated to his mother Agnes. In the early 1980s she's raising her children in a Scottish mining town whose workforce has been stripped of its livelihood because of Thatcher's policies. With a clear-eyed detail the story shows the reality of her increasing dependency on drinking: the self-deception and the faltering attempts to deceive those around her, the schemes to obtain a dozen cans of Special Brew, the blackouts and humiliation, the men who prey upon her or enable her, the women who gossip about her and join her in drinking sessions, the way drinking makes her unemployable and even more dependant on benefits, how alcohol takes priority over food when shopping at the grocery store and how her children are left with nothing to eat. All the while adolescent Shuggie maintains a steadfast belief that his mother will get better even after the rest of her family abandons her. He's a sensitive, effeminate boy labelled as “no right” by many of the locals and it's heartbreaking how Agnes' alcoholism eventually comes between them as well. But this novel also captures the warmth, humour and humanity in its characters' lives. This is an intimate, gracefully-told story about a very ugly situation which expands to say much larger things about the way social and economic issues affect the lives of working class families.

The novel also poignantly shows how Shuggie is held to stereotypical standards of masculinity. The way he talks and walks is criticised and mocked by other children and adult men in the community. Part of what makes the men so insecure and defensive about their manhood is that their livelihood has been threatened. One character observes how in Glasgow “Men were losing their very masculinity.” So I appreciate the way the story demonstrates how this intolerance isn't just a product of traditional notions about gender being rigidly perpetuated. There's also a budding awareness of Shuggie's sexuality which is delicately portrayed in the opening section which is set in the 90s. He's aware of a man gazing upon his body with desire and it's an awareness of this desire (more than an impulse for anything physical to happen) that produces an awareness that he's gay. I found it very moving how Shuggie makes some rare connections with a precious few people who also don't fit the mould and who he's also able to connect with by being the child of an alcoholic. I also appreciated how in the background of the story it’s revealed the city of Glasgow has divisions along the sectarian lines of Catholic and Protestant. I've not seen this portrayed in other novels except “The Walk Home” by Rachel Seiffert. But overall the story shows how poverty amplifies and re-enforces this division and others in the community. “Shuggie Bain” is a very special, personal story and it also gives a dignified voice to a community and people who aren't often portrayed in literature.

We are introduced to Shuggie Bain in 1992, living in a grotty bedsit, while he’s working on the deli counter in a supermarket, and still attending school when he can fit it in around his shifts; he needs the money to pay his rent. Then the narrative jumps back to 1981 and we learn how he ended up in such dire circumstances.
Reader, she should never have married him. Finding her life married to the ‘good Catholic’ not exciting enough, Agnes leaves him for Shug Bain, a womanising Protestant taxi driver, who does not stay faithful or make any effort to hide his indiscretions. It is hard to see the attraction. Understandably, Agnes’s drink problem just gets worse. The Bain family have been living with her parents on the sixteenth floor of a tower block in Sighthill, but it is far from ideal. Shug promises her a house with its own front door, but when she sees the house in Pithead, a former mining community devastated by the Thatcher years, and realizes that Shug does not intend to stay with her, she understands that she has been tricked.
Although the book title is Shuggie Bain, it is really about his mother, Agnes, and her battle with alcohol addiction. Disappointed at how her life has turned out, the dreams of a better future in tatters, she relies more and more on alcohol just to get her through the day. There is no condemnation in this portrait of a woman who has reached rock bottom, but first-hand experience of the pain and degradation of loving someone whose only thought is where their next drink is coming from.
Neither Shuggie nor Agnes really fit in. Even at her worst, Agnes still liked to dress up and put on a good front. Shuggie does not conform to the normal definition of masculinity in Glasgow in the 1980s. He is described as ‘no right’, and is very much alone because of this, easy prey for bullies and predators alike.
This is not just another story of a child neglected by an alcoholic mother. It is also the portrait of a city robbed of its industry and its pride, due to the destructive policies of the heartless Thatcher government. Shuggie’s love for Agnes, and forlorn hope that she will get better, shines through, and we are left hoping that he will be able to overcome his upbringing and make a life for himself. I hope that Douglas Stuart will continue writing Shuggie’s story in the future.
Halfway through reading Shuggie Bain I learned it had been longlisted for the Booker prize; and deservedly so. I don’t know if it will win, but it stands a good chance and I will keep my fingers crossed. These characters are so well drawn they will stay with you long after you have finished reading. It paints an accurate picture of Glasgow in the late 1970s and 1980s. The dialogue is authentic (I grew up in this part of the world) but not so broad it would be a problem for non-Scots. At times it will break your heart, as it deals with some very tough subject matter, but the quality of the writing lifts it to another level. I look forward to reading Douglas Stuart’s next book.
Thanks to Picador and NetGalley for a review copy.

I will be honest - I have tended to run a mile when I see a book on the Booker prize list. For years the ones I have come across (either nominated or winners) have often felt inaccessible to me and too literary. So, whilst I have had this book on my shelf for a while, when it was announced for Booker I wondered if i had got it wrong - whether it wasn't for me after all.
I was wrong. It is a superb read. Supremely readable, accessible, and dare I say commercial!
Shuggie Bain is the youngest son of Agnes, and lives in Glasgow with his absent philandering father, his teetering on the edge mother and his two half siblings. When the relationship between his mother and father finally falls apart, so does Agnes. She finds solace in alchohol and Shuggie has to grow up fast. He isn't like other boys - he isn't into football, or girls, and finds himself in a bullying school environment. His mothers love however is totally unconditional, and the relationship between the two (or 3, if you count alchohol as a third person in this relationship) is the centre of this book.
Deeply painful representation of the devastation caused by her addiction, and the poverty that this forces the family to live in, and how they struggle to survive. But equally there is humour and warmth and oh such love. The Scottish dialect throughout is so authentic and such a joy. I alternated between sadness and joy throughout this wonderful read.
Well paced, well plotted and brilliant characters who broke my heart and put it back together several times over. I would recommend this to one and all.

Shuggie Bain may not be the ideal read during lockdown but it is a good read. We are talking grim, 1980’s grim, mine closures, high unemployment, poverty, trying to live on meagre benefits, the only escape from depression is at the bottom of a bottle (or can).
Agnes Bains husband Shuggie is a taxi driver who abandons her to bring up her three children on her own. As she struggles to provide for her children she turns to drink to escape her depression. Her son Shuggie is different from the other children, his ‘posh’ way of talking, his dislike of physical sports, results in him being picked on and bullied. Shuggie is empathetic and at an early age becomes his mothers carer. Whilst caring for his mother Shuggie is growing up and coming to terms with his sexuality.
The novel highlights a family trying to cope with poverty and alcoholism. At times the behaviour of Agnes is deplorable but you always feel for her because of the hardships she suffers. Agnes and Shuggie are characters that feel real and therefore stay with you after you’ve put the book down.

This book feels all the more important because following the pandemic Britain is heading for a worst recession than the 1980’s with the possibility of mass unemployment.

The world that Shuggie Bain inhabits is grim and chaotic, where 'normal' is everywhere else. His mother Agnes is cursed by an unnatural beauty and unquenchable thirst for alcohol - the wrong men queue up to abuse her weakness for drink to satisfy their animalistic lust - her beauty is a magnet for physical and psychological assaults. Her fleeting moments of escape into domestic normality are brief but doomed. The 'normality' that Shuggie craves is further estranged by his increasing awareness of his own sexuality which sets him apart from the macho world of the neighbouring children, his father, and almost every other male in the novel. One exception, Eugene, the gunslinging sheriff of the the Southside steers her into months of sobriety yet ends up shooting himself in the foot in a misplaced understanding of 'normality'.
Shuggie's devotion to his mother and his growing understanding of her problems is skilfully drawn. His family are almost Dickensian creations, particular his brother Leek whose ability to disappear make him a ghostly presence throughout the book - his character like his sketches, unfinished and barely able to communicate. Likewise Shuggie's father, the taxi-driving lecher, Big Shug whose fading glamour matches his receding hairline - his lothario lifestyle as insecure as his comb-over.
But this is a novel of sparse humour, disturbing violence and drunken degeneracy and it is convincing real. Douglas Stuart is relentless and uncompromising in his depiction of what I suspect is his own experience. Yet throughout the book Shuggie's love for his mother, and family, is unstinting, even when he knows that it is inevitably hopeless. Agnes herself somehow manages to remain 'beautiful', at least to Shuggie, while everything around her crumbles into ruin. Shuggie's late friendship with Leanne, whose mother is also lost in alcoholism, is a final reminder that Shuggie's story is only one of many family tragedies.

Shuggie Bain – Douglas Stuart
Compellingly dark, honest and powerful are just some of the words I would use to describe Shuggie Bain. It’s not a light read by any stretch of the imagination but what it is, is a stripped bare story of a family blighted by alcohol addiction, neglect and poverty living in social care housing in Glasgow during the 1980s.
Many of us who lived the East End of Glasgow or in the other nearby schemes knew a family like the Bains, I know I did. Alcohol addiction killed members of my family and lost me others making certain parts of this incredibly difficult to read. On the plus side memories came flooding back, getting in the car going to the seaside usually Ayr or Largs, falling asleep in the back seat hands sticky with candyfloss covered in sand. As going to the post office with my mums Monday and Tuesday books, going for messages dark rolls, lorne sausage and tattie scones not forgetting a small pouch of Old Holborn tobacco and 20 John Player Superkings Black cigarettes.
Shuggie, Leek and Catherine (Caff) are the long suffering children of Agnes, ‘that Catholic’ and Shug a dysfunctional family if ever there was one. Each time they moved for a fresh start or to be new again it seemed like one more leaf fell from the family tree. Shug was the first to go until finally there is only an incredibly young Shuggie left to keep himself and his mother fed, watered not to mention safe.
Agnes was a gorgeous woman who took pride in her appearance, making sure her hair was perfect and no holes in her tights but she needed/wanted a man to look after her because it’s as Shug always said, ‘she was too beautiful to work’ what she didn’t seem to realise was that the drink took over pushing everyone away and gave her a tongue like a viper alongside a massive self-destruct streak. I hoped with all my heart that her relationship with Eugene would continue, then I wanted to throttle him for persuading her to fall having no plan on how to catch her.
Growing up his style of different in the schemes of the South Side in the 1980s must have been hard. The wee soul had no friends to speak of, he was bullied both in and out of school making him a solitary and rather lonely child who saw and heard much more than he should have had to. I was so sad reading about how he tried to learn to walk properly, more like a real boy to get the others off his back can’t have been easy for him to do some of the more personal things for his mum almost as a matter of course.
Reading this, I experienced a myriad of emotions love, hate, despair and compassion. I likened it to a day of typical Scottish weather where you can have all four seasons in the same day, in the same hour in some instances. I cried, I laughed, and I despaired in equal measures as I turned these pages. It has been a long time since a book has touched me quite so deeply and I think it will stay with me for a long time to come. I have talked about this nonstop and recommended this to almost everyone I know, my non bookworm friends even a lady in the queue at Morrisons the other day (I’ll talk to anyone).
Novels which are written in the dialect with which they are spoken are one of my favourite things. Although in this case I do feel that a glossary of some shape or form could be handy as the strong Glaswegian dialect may be challenging for some.
Whilst I absolutely loved this book, I do feel it’s worth mentioning that this novel has a degree of brutal and somewhat graphic content which may not be suitable for some younger readers

Read for an honest review. Thank you to Mr Stuart, Netgalley and Pan McMillan

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for this ARC.

I was excited to read this after seeing it nominated for the Booker Prize a couple of weeks ago, and after reading it I completely understand why. This is a sprawling novel exploring 1980s Glasgow primarily from the perspective of Agnes Bain and her son Shuggie, and it doesn't flinch away from the hard parts. Agnes isn't exactly a likeable character but Stuart does an excellent job of putting her alcoholism and subsequent failings into perspective in a way where the outcome seems inevitable and unavoidable. Shuggie himself is a tragic character, shaped by both his mother's and father's actions and yet not defeated by them. I understand that the story is in some way inspired by Stuart's own childhood and this perhaps explains why we don't get to see how Shuggie grows up, which is my one regret. I hope this book gets the readership it deserves.

This Booker longlisted novel is not an easy read. It's gripping, gritty and I was totally thrown into the world of Shuggie Bain and his family. The story is set in 80s and 90s Glasgow, a world of poverty, unemployment, low paid jobs, alcoholism, abuse and addictions.

Shuggie's mother longs for one thing - her own front door. She find living with her parents and her three kids hard. She escapes it all by drinking, smoking and loving Big Shug Bain, her taxi driver husband although she knows he's never faithful and doesn't treat her well.

They move to a mining town on the outskirts of the city and while having her own front door life is hard. Big Shug leaves her, returning to goad her or for sexual favours and so, gentle Shuggie becomes his mother's carer making sure she's okay after a heavy session. Agnes always likes to look good - well dressed with her face made up and a tidy house.

Catherine, their sister married young and moved away. Leek, Shuggie's brother tries to keep it all on the straight and narrow, saving money from his mother's benefits to feed them and teaching Shuggie how to be a man. Shuggie doesn't like football or playing with the boys, he'd rather dream about being a hairdresser or playing with his doll. He's fussy about things, knows he's different but most importantly of all wants to keep his beloved mother safe from harm.

I found the book a difficult read which took me into an unknown world. I loved the characters of Shuggie and Agnes and can only highly recommend the book as a must read.

"Her body hung off the side of the bed, and by the odd angle Shuggie could tell the drink had spun her all night like a Catherine wheel. He turned her head to the side to stop her choking on her rising boak. Then he placed the mop bucket near the bed and gently unzipped the back of her cream dress and loosened the clasp on her bra. He would have taken off her shoes, but she wasn’t wearing any, and her legs were white and stark-looking without the usual black stockings. There were new bruises on her pale thighs. Shuggie arranged three tea mugs: one with tap water to dry the cracks in her throat, one with milk to line her sour stomach, and the third with a mixture of the flat leftovers of Special Brew and stout that he had gathered from around the house and frothed together with a fork. He knew this was the one she would reach for first, the one that would stop the crying in her bones."

This book is a remarkable well executed debut by a Scottish born author, now living in New York where he works as a fashion designer.

Douglas Stuart grew up in a Glasgow housing estate (losing his mother to alcoholism at 16, and never meeting his father). In a Lit Hub article (recommending other books set in Glasgow) he effectively sets the scene for this book:

"I grew up in a house without books, which was not unusual for the time or the place. The working men who surrounded me bent steel for a living, they built fine ships, or traveled miles into the earth to hack away at coalfaces. We sons took after our fathers. We kicked things—first it was footballs, then it was each other—and as we grew, we had little time for books. We sought apprenticeships or we learned trades. We were proud, we were useful.

But the ruling conservative government cared nothing for the honest, working poor. They set about privatizing most manufacturing, removing all support for nationalized labor. In doing so Margaret Thatcher decimated the working man. Her policies swept all heavy industry from the west coast of Scotland in the span of a single generation and did it with all the disregard of a government separated by distance and several social classes. Steel, ships, coal, all gone. The men had nowhere to turn and they became chronically unemployed. They were emasculated and sent by a woman (no less) to rot away their lives into rented settees."

A theme also taken up in a recent New Yorker interview discussing a short story published there (as well as this book)

"The Glasgow I grew up in was rife with drink, drugs, and gang violence. Margaret Thatcher and her remote Tory government closed all the heavy industry in the city within a generation; ships, steel, coal—all gone. This had a terrible knock-on effect on all employment, and working families had nowhere to turn; fathers and sons were all put out of work, with no hope, and it ushered in some of the worst addiction and health crises in western Europe,"

The book is effectively two intertwined stories – an autobiographically inspired story of the Bain family (particularly the mother Agnes and her youngest son – Doug or Shuggie) over the period 1981-1992 (with Shuggie between 5 and 15); and a portrait of what was working class Glasgow in the early aftermath of what I can only really describe as the evils of Thatcherism – with (as the quotes above imply) its heavy industry male workforce becoming unemployed en masse (as collateral – possibly even deliberate - damage in Thatcher’s attempts to modernise Britain and break the power of the Unions) with poverty and addiction taking over.

Agnes (as she confesses at the rare AA meetings she manages to attend) is an alcoholic – but also a strikingly beautiful woman and a proud one (both in her speech – when she is not slurring – and her appearance – when not dishevelled by drink). When her first two children Catherine and Leck were still toddlers, she left their father and her first husband – a solid Catholic – for a reprobate (an appropriate term for a non-believing Scottish Protestant), charming, womanising taxi-driver Douglas (Shug) Bain.

For years they live with Agnes’s parents – until Shug (by now father to Shuggie) persuades Agnes they should move to a new development in the outskirts of the town – more it seems as a test of her loyalty as by now he claims to be tired of her drinking (or at least sufficiently bored with it to no longer even pretend to be conducting a serious affair with one of the dispatchers) – and he abandons her and the children there, to what turns out to be a devastated community, built near to a now almost closed mine.

Agnes is both desperately dependent on others, but also fiercely independent and the resulting combination of neediness and aggression causes all those around her to plot to escape her – over time Shug, Catherine (who escapes first to marriage to a step-cousin and then to emigration), the one true boyfriend she has (her sex life otherwise being either assaults on her when she is under the influence, or quick fumbles exchanged for drink or money to buy drink) and Leckie (who retreats first into himself and his drawing and then to a job and flat as soon as he is off age).

The only one who remains loyal to her – convinced, against not only all the odds but all the evidence, that there is some hope for her, is the growing Shuggie – who (as the opening quote shows) has to take on tasks and responsibilities well beyond his age.

At the same time he is struggling with his own burgeoning sexual identity. The affected mannerisms and snobbery he adopts from his mother (and which are also mixed up with his almost superstitious as well as guilt-ridden beliefs about how he has to avoid any behaviour which might worsen her chances of recovery) – only make him stand out more from the determinedly masculine culture around him, and lead to bullying, ostracism from his peers and incidents of sexual exploitation from older boys and possibly adults (which Shuggie himself largely tries to suppress from himself and so from the reader).

Shuggie’s main struggle though remains with his mother

"“Ah just feel angry for the bad things they say about her. You should fight for her.”
“I do fight for her!” he said. “Mostly with herself, but it’s still a fight.”"

And weaved around the tale of the Bain’s (as I said above) is a remarkable portrait of Glasgow – one senses that Shuggie’s troubled but loving relationship with his mother is an echo of the author’s relationship with the City of his birth.

As I remarked above this book is very impressive for a debut – showing huge writing maturity.

The dialogue is often rendered in dialect – it would be imprecise to say the book is written in a Scottish dialect, instead it is in a variety of Scottish (mainly Glaswegian) dialects – and for a closely observing reader, the gradations of accent and dialect are key signifiers of class/status/religion and also, importantly, aspiration. The narrative though is not in dialogue (this is not say a James Kelman “How late it was, How Late” despite clear commonalities) albeit slang terms are scattered throughout it. For any British reader I would say the book was entirely comprehensible without any need to check terms – and for anyone of a British working class background of the right age, while much of the book may go way beyond poverty they experienced, there will I think be many familiar elements.

The writing itself is on one level straightforward, this is no stream of consciousness or different style of writing (like say “Milkman” – another book with strong commonalities) but it is extremely well rendered.

One overwhelming impression I had of the book was of time and space – the time it must have taken to write and to craft, and the space it gives the reader to really get to know the characters and to experience the life they lead.

This is a desperately moving, heartbreaking book – one which places hope and despair, love and brokenness on the same page, treating both with the same weight and empathy.

I would be disappointed if this does not make the Booker longlist and far from surprised if it progressed further.

Shuggie Bain is - for me - the first essential book of the year. What could be a grim read - a young lad who doesn’t fit in grows up in poverty, dealing with, and at times caring for, his alcoholic mother - finds the glimmers of light in the darkness. At times the unrelenting misery makes it a challenging read, but, aside from the depth of the characters and their relationships, there’s a vivid descriptiveness to the language - whether the narrative that brings the squalor alive through the colour of a best coat against the dust of a slag heap, or the vernacular of Glasgow patter. Agnes is particularly well drawn, and in a sense more present than Shuggie, with her descent forming the backbone of the novel. Glasgow - or the predominantly restricted view of it Shuggie gets - is a critical character in itself,

Well worth the investment of time - it’s a rewarding read.

Remember David Cameron's 'we're all in it together'? Well, this book demonstrates how that's never been true. A contemporary addition to working class lit, it follows sweet Shuggie growing up poor in Glasgow where men are out of work, where single mothers are trying to hold their families together with no money and with alcohol as a prop, and where a boy like Shuggie has to choose between going to school and working in a shop just to bring in some money for his mother and siblings to eat.

Stuart tempers the bleak vision with tenderness between people and never makes it saccharine. The language is robust and there are moment of humour that light the overriding bleakness. But make no mistake, this is a grim book as a community struggles with poverty and its knock-on effects. Powerful without being dogmatic or polemical.

The scenario for 'Shuggie Bain' is harrowing - poverty, alcoholism and the disaster of Thatcherism, unemployment and pit closures, with a gritty Glasgow setting.

This isn't a cheerful read, and I wasn't initially sure that I'd stick with something so potentially depressing, and yet I was absolutely gripped by the story of Shuggie, his brother Leek, and their alcoholic mother, Agnes. From the beginning, the reader knows that the odds are stacked against the family: both Agnes and Shuggie want to 'get better' and make a fresh start - she wants to stop drinking, and he wants to be 'normal.' There can be no happy endings in this story - Agnes's brief period of sobriety is sabotaged by the potential partner who want her to show she is 'better' by taking a glass of wine. But what makes the book so compelling is the characters' refusal to succumb to self-pity and the 'poor mes.' Agnes's defiance and ability to put on her best clothes and hold her head high, despite the degradation her drinking brings, and Shuggie's (and Leek's ) love for her.

The book is beautifully written - the author knows just how much to tell, and how much to withold as we watch Agnes's steady decline. There's a real sense of time and place, too. Although I'm not usually a fan of sequels, I'd love to know what happens to Shuggie next, and am very much looking foward to reading more by Douglas Stuart.

Without doubt, Douglas Stuart has written one of the books of the year, a coming of age story, an unflinching, bleak and emotionally heartbreaking portrayal of a beaten dysfunctional family and Glasgow community, suffering the agonising pains and despair of the Thatcher era in the 1980s. To this day, despite Margaret Thatcher's death, I have yet to forgive her for her divisive ideological policies and her all out war against Britain's poor and working classes, highlighted by her notorious claim that there was no such thing as society, as she laid waste to large sections of society with the huge rise in unemployment and poverty, devastating communities and lives. She is the precursor to what followed in the UK, right through to the recent times with the Bullingdon boys, David Cameron and George Osborne, making the poor, disabled and vulnerable pay for the 2008 crisis through the disaster that was austerity, laying the ground for what is happening in the UK today.

With illusions of a better life, the beautiful Agnes Bain leaves her husband for a taxi driver, a poor excuse of a philandering human being who fails and abandons her. A firm believer the importance of how things look as opposed to how they are, a proud Agnes puts up a good front with her false teeth as her world falls apart, and she begins to drink as a coping mechanism for the failures in her life, becoming a slave to her addictions. In this movingly profound story of the young Hugh 'Shuggie' Bain from the age of 6 to 17, Shuggie is neglected and abandoned, even by his siblings, Leek and Catherine, entrusted with the duties and responsibilities of caring for Agnes, believing and hoping that his love for Agnes will be enough. His life is further plagued by not fitting in the ideals of masculinity, a misfit viewed as not quite right, bullied, in a relentlessly dark narrative of violence and abuse.

This is powerful, desperate, tragic and harrowing storytelling, taking its tolls on the reader, there is nevertheless, amongst the grim realities of life, slight slivers of light and hope. Stuart is with his characters, so compassionate, and understanding of the all too important context, for example, as Agnes is failed, so like the domino effect, she in turn goes on to fail others. Even as my heart broke for Shuggie and the life and world that is his fate, I cannot regret read this superb debut, it is remarkable, so beautifully written with its terrific dialogue, and absolutely unforgettable. A novel that captures a forgotten history and impoverished Glasgow that captures the price paid with the horrors experienced by people and communities for policies designed by politicians to promote the inequalities that blight our country. Highly recommended. Many thanks to Pan Macmillan for an ARC.

This book takes us through 1980’s Glasgow which has been hit by poverty and unemployment.

Shuggie Bain is just a young boy, when his father walks out, leaving him and his siblings with their mother, Agnes. Agnes always tries to maintain her glamorous appearance and rarely leaves the house without looking her best, but some bad choices and life's ups and downs sees her frequently reaching for a drink.

Shuggie deeply loves his mother and more often than not is the one that ends up looking after her, defending her to everyone and watches her slip further and further to alcoholism.
Agnes is the one who also understands what people mean when they say Shuggie is "no right". He's not like other boys and as we go through the book, Shuggie starts to realise his sexuality.
This book deals with harrowing themes such as alcoholism, rape, abuse and poverty and Douglas Stuart manages to deal with beautiful way.

Being from the same part of the world, I felt I knew the characters or could relate to some of the situations. This is by far a heartwarming book but there were parts of it that I found comforting and thoroughly enjoyed.

This is an amazing debut novel from Douglas Stuart and I would like to thank NetGalley, Pan MacMillan and Picador for the opportunity to read an advance copy.