Kieran.Stories

I feel like my reading has been disorganised in February. I started a new job. There’s a lot to process but I feel happy there. As my dad said on the phone the other week, it’s been a whirlpool. I thought I would finish the first volume of Peter Guralnick’s Elvis biography Last Train to Memphis this month, but I didn’t. I have read the first two stages of Pip’s expectations in Great Expectations. The start of March might feel like a bit of a hangover. But, bottom line, I read some amazing stuff this month, and I would like to enthuse about it in my slapdash way.

Ghost Signs: Poverty and the Pandemic by Stu Hennigan (2022)

A few days before my flight to China, we were in lockdown for the first time. I was going to teach English as a foreign language in Nanjing. In the weeks leading up to my leaving, I was dismissive towards my girlfriend. Her argument was that my being on a different continent would change our relationship. I was too busy biting my nails. It was such a relief to stay. I was lucky during the lockdowns. I lived with my parents. I did a bit of online teaching, the sort of teaching I might have done in Nanjing, but the lessons were so infrequent. After the last lockdown, I didn’t think about it at all, and the more I think about it now, the more I realise that this forgetting about COVID was a decision. Ghost Signs by Stu Hennigan is a vital reminder. It is Stu’s true account of his time delivering food parcels for Leeds City Council. Before each section, there is a summary of the week in news. And it just makes you remember how insidious Boris Johnson and his cronies were (are). Ghost Signs reminds us how the political is always personal. Stu’s descriptions of the VE Celebrations during the pandemic are particularly good. It reminded me of one of the early chapters from Rule, Nostalgia: A Backwards History of Britain by Hannah Rose. But Stu’s insight, while as sharp, is laced with brilliant invective. From p.98 of Ghost Signs: “It’s supremely ironic that the generation we are told we’re meant to be celebrating are now either isolated at home or stuck in care homes, and until about a week ago the Government weren’t even counting their deaths. It’s ironic that the zealots who are enthusing about VE Day are oblivious to the fact that their own views are heading well in the direction of fascism.” Ghost Signs also reminded me of Ashes to Admin: Tales from the Caseload of a Council Funeral Officer by Evie King, another brilliant account of council work. In March, I’m hoping to read Stu’s new novel Keshed, which has been getting knockout reviews.

The Weird and the Eerie by Mark Fisher (2016)

In a weird (not by Fisher’s definition but still) coincidence, Stu quotes from Capitalist Realism: Is There No Alternative? by Mark Fisher in Ghost Signs. I read Capitalist Realism last year and found it informative and instructive. I have been listening to Mark Fisher for years now: there is a wealth of lectures on YouTube. His thinking seems to have permeated the work of people I really admire, like Stu Hennigan and also Robin Allender, who brought up Fisher’s definition of the weird and the eerie on a recent episode of The Allender Calendar with Ben Pester. I really enjoyed this book, particularly the chapters on The Fall and Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar. Fisher remains influential and his writing continues to capture the current mood. This book (along with To Rise in the Dark by Nick J Brown) was my proper introduction to Mark E Smith: no bad thing.

Experience by Martin Amis (2000)

I found Experience completely overwhelming. On p.317, I broke into tears and dropped the book onto the floor. It landed with a definitive thud. It was a strange, singular moment. I haven’t been moved like that for a long time. “And I hugged him again.” That’s what did it for me. I hugged him again. Fucking good book, as young Martin Amis might have said.

Helen of Nowhere by Makenna Goodman (2025)

I bought this novel in a spur of the moment after seeing Jonathan Gibbs’ mini-review on Bluesky. His currently reading thread is excellent, if you’re not already following him. I read Helen of Nowhere over one evening, home alone. By the end of the book I felt sort of spaced out, and I look forward to approaching it again at a slower pace. I liked the boldness of its middle section, as Goodman takes us deeper into the witching hour. It’s barking mad.

Strong Female Character by Fern Brady (2023)

I would love to read a novel by Fern Brady. Her writing is so rich, and her characters are right there in the room. But this is her life, not a novel. It’s her account of being diagnosed with autism as an adult with a focus on what it means to be diagnosed as a woman with autism. She is told early in the book that she can’t be autistic because she has a boyfriend and is able to hold eye contact. We then go back to the beginning, as it were, and follow Fern from childhood to starting stand up in her twenties. It’s such a strong piece of work. It’s particularly powerful on parents. I felt a strange echo after just finishing Experience by Martin Amis. If Amis’ book is about his dad, Brady’s book is about her mum – that’s how she finds her ending. It’s a brilliantly told story and I really hope there’s another Fern Brady book in the works.

Watchmen by Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons (1987)

I read Watchmen when I was in college and hated it. I hated its ending – stupid – and I, in my infinite wisdom, labelled it too pretentious, nay portentous, for its own good. But really, despite all its splatter and skimp, this is not a book for teenagers. And in a way, it’s probably easier to sniff at Watchmen than appreciate it for what it is. Like From Hell, Watchmen is a meditation on the 20th Century. From Hell is a more sophisticated and in my opinion better overall book, but there is a certain verve to Watchmen that makes it irresistible. I am so pleased I decided to go back to it. When I first read it, I doubt I even knew America lost in Vietnam, that Nixon was not in fact president in 1985, or the significance of the nomenclature Dr Manhattan. And the ending is fantastic, and like From Hell and V For Vendetta at once apocalyptic and feverishly optimistic.

She’s Always Hungry by Eliza Clark (2024)

I love Eliza Clark’s work for lots of reasons, but the main reason is my partner (the girlfriend mentioned above – now fiancée) loves her work too. This was our book club book. That’s something to cherish. If you haven’t read Eliza Clark’s novel Penance, read it. Despite the occasional clumsiness of its framing device, Penance has something to say about how young people live now, and it says it in a thoroughly entertaining way. She’s Always Hungry is a collection of short stories released in 2024, after Penance. My favourite stories are ‘Goth GF’ (particularly funny line about the narrator wanking himself to death), ‘The Shadow Over Little Chitaly’, and ‘The King’. I have read the collection twice through now. I don’t think I’ll come back to it again. I am excited to read Clark’s new novel. My hunch is it’ll be SF (I have always said sci-fi, but I read somewhere recently that the correct term is SF). I think Eliza Clark’s next novel will take us into the future.

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens (1861)

I haven’t finished Great Expectations yet, I am two thirds of the way through. I might finish it before the end of this month, but maybe not. There is no rush. Dickens isn’t going anywhere. Great Expectations is my current bus book. I.e. the bus I’m reading on the book. Wait, other way round. I’m enjoying making my way through the book in small chunks like this. And I’m sure you don’t need me telling you, but it’s fucking great, man. We’re adopting two cats soon and I’m erring on the side of Estella. What always knocks me out about Dickens is the surprising slow burn. I have just reached the moment when Pip receives a missive telling him that his sister, who brought him up by hand, has died. It was an absolute gut punch. How does Dickens achieve this? Or is it the reader – do we not give ourselves enough credit? What I know now is, I could spend another month in Pip’s world. I could spend the rest of 2026 waiting outside Miss Havisham’s room. I’m in no rush.