π Finished re-reading Saturday Night and Sunday Morning by Alan Sillitoe. I was given this copy in 2009 by someone I met on Twitter, swapping it for The Vodi by John Braine. The novel is a slice of working-class life in 1950s Nottingham, filled with heavy drinking, fighting and affairs with married women. The opening scene sees the lead character fall down some stairs in a pub before vomiting all over two other customers, setting the tone for whatβs to come. Although itβs of its time and is an enjoyable book, itβs still shocking to me when casual racism gets dropped into the narrative.
A Kind of Loving Stan Barstow better gritty upp north novel -same era
Ah yes, I enjoyed that one.