Very hard to read and I tried many times. Was not my cup of tea. Thanks to Netgalley, the author and the publisher for the arc of this book in return for my review. Receiving the book in this manner had no bearing on this review.

A challenging collection of short fiction. Since reading and being impressed by Kelman's "Mo That was Quirky," I've bee drawn to this author's fiction. It's often rewarding, sometimes disorienting, but always offering a chance to encounter a unique voice. Recommended to readers seeking a fresh, challenging voice.

I was excited for this collection, but had to put it down as unreadable and drab within the first 20 pages. Dreary, colorless, and unfinishable.

I received and advanced copy from #netgalley in exchange for a review.
First, I found the language very confusing. It was set in Scotland, so some of the slang and terms I just didn’t get. And lots of ye and nay uses. I found the writing style very confusing and disjointed. I read 1 and 1/2 stories and then gave up. I kept hoping it would get better or that I would understand more, but I couldn’t justify wasting time when I have other books waiting to be read.

Scottish collection of ethereal short stories, unburdened by plot devices. I've not read much Scottish writing so the lack of consistency with contractions was jarring at first (didnt, wasnt, couldnt in one story followed by didnay, wasnay, couldnay in the next) but I think lack of consistency is kind of Kelman's schtick, and I appreciated that. I also liked the unironic inclusion of a guy doing a wee jig, and an astoundingly creative lexicon: "somebody described your books as fuction," "internetual information,""what is a male damsel?" These stories are varied but vaguely reminiscent, including a range of drunken pick-ups and takes on the working class experience, a lot about erections and writers, and repetition-bordering-on-rumination about the difference between and importance of mates and friends and butties and pals.

I’ve scored some great anthology finds off of Netgalley, so statistically this was due, but still…. James Kelman is a Man Booker nominee too, this was a major draw, but the book was barely readable. It’s Scottish, very Scottish, phonetically so, and between all the nays and maists and c*nt for every other word…I didn’t get the appeal at all. Oddly enough I enjoy Scotland set movies and tv shows, but it’s possible (and this may be the only positive takeaway here) their literature just isn’t my bag. Exhaustive colloquialisms aside, context wise this was a total wasteland. Presumably aimed to be slices of life, these stories were really more like snippets at best, first one read like a one act two actors play, the rest were strictly stream of consciousness, dense, rambling and utterly drab. There is a certain style to Kelman’s writing, one he rigorously maintains throughout, maybe that’s what the attraction is, but if so this is definitely style over substance situation. Whatever substance there might have been got buried under the longwinded tedium of its execution. In Kelman’s own vernacular…I cannay tolerate a bunch of right bastard c*nts. Bleak, dreary, colorless...this was just a complete waste of time. I didn’t even have any expectations going in, really, and it still managed to disappoint completely. There’s a kilt wearing, bagpipe playing audience for this somewhere, maybe, but the rest ought to be spared. Thanks Netgalley.