I was judging the L.A. Times 2020 and 2021 fiction contest. It’d be generous to call what I’d been doing upon my first cursory glance—reading. I also don’t take this task lightly. As a fellow writer and lover of words and books, I took this position—in hopes of being a good literary citizen. My heart aches for all the writers who have a debut at this time. What I can share now is the thing that held my attention and got me to read on even though it was among 296 other books I’m charged to read.

poignant passages like this tip the reader off this is not your ordinary thug:
And the man drags his wife into the house and as he does this he’s pulling the door shut and I cna see their entrance hall is carpeted beige all thick and soft like the kind of carpet that holds the heat of a resting sunbeam so you actually wanna lie down and fall asleep on it and mad quick I reach through the door as it’s closing and manage to grab the woman by her wrist and I pull her arm out just as the door is slamming shut and the man slams the front door hard on his wife’s arm and I hear her scream.

Thanks to Bloomsbury for a free advance copy of this title, which was published on June 29, 2021. I'm writing this review voluntarily.

Gabriel Krauze's explosive Booker Prize long-listed debut is an autofiction novel? fictionalized memoir? semi-autobiographical true crime?--let's just say it defies traditional expectations, as does its narrator and author. The real author Gabriel is a former-London-gang-member-turned-writer, which is a similar trajectory to Gabriel the narrator of "Who They Was," also known as Snoopz. While he's Gabriel to his caring family and Gabriel at the college where he's studying for an English Lit degree, he's Snoopz on the streets--a hardscrabble robber living in the crime-ridden South Kilburn housing estate in Brent. This dichotomy--reading Nietzsche by day, snatching purses and watches by night (or early morning)--foments much of the novel's tension, although it soon becomes clear that Gabriel understands the literature he's consuming differently from his peers: the regret and revenge in "Hamlet," for example, resonates in another way with someone who's engaged in turf wars.

Gabriel moves through a world of horrific violence, rotating women, drug deals, toxic masculinity, and eventual incarceration (including some of the best prison writing I've read since Jean Genet), but the real knockout gut punch of this text is the language itself. Krauze's poetic, lyrical, rhythmic slang (think the speech of a film like "Attack the Block") nails the tension and stress of the streets down to the page--an essential documentary project, as housing blocks get demolished and entire histories of working class people are erased. In other words, "Who They Was" is a tremendous example of the kind of outsider lit we need more of.

Published in Great Britain in 2020; published by Bloomsbury Publishing on June 29, 2021

Gabriel Krauze tells the story of Gabriel Krauze using the language of the street. Specifically, the language of South Kilburn, a large London housing development that is largely demolished by the time the novel ends. I don’t know how much of Who They Was is autobiography and how much is fiction, but from the standpoint of reading pleasure, the distinction doesn’t matter. Krauze’s voice rings true and his story is unvarnished. Even if some details have been fabricated or changed, the story’s raw power, together with Krauze’s street eloquence, makes Who They Was a compelling read.

The first-person story follows Krauze from the age of 17 through his early adulthood. It is the story of a complicated man, a thug with artistic talent, brains and ambition, who excels both in school and in street crime (incidents to which he refers as “madnesses”). Students and professors who share an academic life with Krauze appear to admire his intelligence and analytical ability. He has an unhealthy passion for Nietzsche, but he reads widely, understands what he reads, and brings insight to his studies. Yet those who admire Krauze at “uni” would likely be appalled by his off-campus life.

On the other hand, Krauze has a plentiful supply of admirers in the neighborhoods where he hangs. He is respected for his audacity and fearlessness. He robs the helpless, stabs his adversaries, and beats people with little provocation. He accepts short stints of incarceration as the price of living his own life. He has no interest in being supervised by the authorities and blows off his community service, leading to more time behind bars. He loves his parents, Polish immigrants who don’t understand Krauze’s failure to conform, but he has no interest in following their rules. He stays in their home on occasion but he’s usually in South Kilburn. He sees his nagging mother as “covered in spikes. Maybe that’s how she survives the world. Maybe that’s how she survives me.”

Krauze narrates a series of incidents, some violent, some sexual, some involving bonding with friends, some involving his studies. Krauze robs innocent people, sells drugs, smokes an impressive amount of weed, and maintains his street cred by punishing anyone who gives him a screwface (dirty look). To many readers, this will seem like the astonishing waste of a life, but Krauze earns his degree so his time is not entirely wasted. As Krauze explains, his lifestyle is “totally accepted” by his peers, “if anything it sets a standard for the young g’s to live up to and you can see it in how the violence becomes the inspiration for everyone’s lyrics when they spit rap and grime bars about bussin guns and murking man.” Who They Was does not come with a glossary, but a few trips to the Urban Dictionary will bring the reader up to speed.

In Krauze’s world, “only money and status matters” and “any act of violence, exploitation, whatever, can’t be unfair because that’s how life works.” At the same time, he feels compelled to attend the university “for the sake of my brain. I knew I’d go mad if I couldn’t read books.” The two halves of Krauze seem inconsistent, not because educated people don’t commit crime — an education doesn’t prevent the educated from preying upon the vulnerable — but because they don’t usually commit violent street crimes.

Despite the insights that education has given him, Krauze shows little interest in living a different life. His girlfriend wants him to get a nine-to-five but he’s “not gonna become a version of me that doesn’t exist.” He explains, “I don’t want to run from the law and feel my heartbeat making me sick. … I want to see fear in people’s eyes and eat my own fear. I want to live dangerously, on the edge of existence.” He justifies his lifestyle by reference to Nietzche’s belief that “morality is just a rule of behaviour relative to the level of danger in which individals live. If you’re living in dangerous times, you can’t afford to live according to moral structures the way that someone who lives in safety and peace can.” Of course, Krauze could make an effort to live in safety and peace, and with a degree he probably could, but he’s convinced that his former life would come back to haunt him, that if he tries to live differently he’ll be dead in a year. That seems unlikely, particularly if he moves away from London, but it’s also pretty clear that he’s an adrenalin junky who doesn’t want a conventional life. “Better to take risks, better to plunge into the fire and feel alive, if only for a moment, than not have really lived at all.” He understands the risk of “living with demons until you become one yourself” but doesn’t seem to fear the possibility that he might cross that line. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

Krauze might be a sociopath, but he is not without emotion. He makes a point of shutting down his emotions, but he seems to feel genuine love for his parents and friends. He appreciates beauty. He learned to play the piano and enjoys Chopin. His cellmates praise his drawings. He looks at the moon and marvels that everyone on the planet throughout human history has seen the same moon and that all humans are connected by it. He sees life as performative, as not quite real, which might simply be a sign of immaturity.

Who They Was is a fascinating narrative of a complex life. They rhythms of Krause’s language, the creative juxtaposition of slang and academic argot, set the book apart from less inspired stories of hard lives. There is nothing sentimental, nothing artificial, nothing contrived about the way Krause tells his story. A reader can like him or hate him and he just doesn’t care. From a literary standpoint, how the reader feels about Krause is unimportant. His passion, the intensity of his story, and his brutal honesty provide a convincing window into a life that most readers can barely imagine.

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Wow this book is so powerful and Gabriel's story is, unfortunately, not unique but he is the one who is deciding to share his story. Excellent debut and I would love more from him. Possibly a podcast series or documentary.

Brutal, beautiful writing. This one takes a strong constitution to get through. It does seem like Booker finalists are often so me of the hardest to read.

A difficult, but important read. The vocabulary and grammar of the street are front and center in this autobiographical novel in which Krauze provides an inside look at a world rarely seen but often judged. His narrator maintains an emotional distance from horrific crimes and desperate situations. As a result, the reader is more horrified and sympathetic. The dialect is difficult to navigate. Perhaps it would be less so for a British reader, but an American will struggle in places to understand the jargon. Nevertheless, the plot unfolds effectively.

Thank you to Gabriel Krauze, Bloomsbury Publishing, and NetGalley for an Advance Reader Copy in exchange for an honest review.

I kept hearing about it everywhere - which is hardly surprising for a Booker Prize Nominee - so I had to pick it up. Unsurprisingly, it was stunning.

This is autobiographical literary fiction of Gabriel "Snoopz" Krauze who reflects on growing up in London, poverty and the gang culture. As someone who is only familiar with the impressive, historical and ultra-modern aspects of the city, I was immediately pulled into this stunningly written narrative. The characters and the city come to life across the pages, something truly rare for me.

This book explores difficult subject manners, class, poverty and injustice, so it is definitely not the easiest piece of literature to pick up. However, it is truly an unforgettable, emotional tale which sparked my curiosity on every page.

*Thank you to the Publisher for a free advance copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.