This wasn’t quite the book I was expecting to read (which is not quite the author’s fault). Being from a ex-mining family in a similar part of the country, I had hoped for a further exploration of the feelings surrounding the strikes and dismantling of an industry and shared history. This is hinted at in the small “essays” the university academics share, but the story largely focuses on Simon, who negotiates life between a dead-end call centre, being a drag artist, posting Only Fans videos, and negotiating a new relationship. It’s unclear if Simon is old enough to remember the struggles his dad and uncle (both ex-miners) went though but his Margaret Thatcher drag act shows he is aware of the depth of feelings surrounding this history.

There are buried feelings and stories here; some are uncovered but I felt there was more to explore here. It is a short novel that, I feel, would have benefited from more pages to round out all the characters and stories. That said, there is some beautiful writing here; it feels quite poetical at times with the repeated “leaving for work” sections. Hearing the “coal laughing” at first seems comical then sinister.

Thanks to #NetGalley for sharing this copy with me for an honest review.

A short novel, set in Barnsley a mining town, during the Thatcher years of the 70's and 80's. It tells the story of three generations, covering the topics of masculinity, class and homosexuality. The writing is clever, told from different points of view, and although it is a short read, it leaves an impact. Thanks to Net Galley for my ARC.

As a queer working class person from a northern ex-mining community, this book felt like it was practically written for me. I loved it. This is a slim novel but it’s jam packed with ideas and different storytelling techniques - if anything, I felt it could have been longer, just to give a some of these wonderful scenes and characters a bit more space to breathe, as we sometimes whizz through chapters that could have slowed down, occasionally almost glancing over the meat of the scene. I could have read a whole novel just about Simon and his drag! It’s incredibly refreshing to read a novel about the north, and particularly the Thatcher effected mining communities, that doesn’t feel weighted down with the need to push a grim and gritty narrative - there’s lightness here too, and beauty. I adored the exploration of the different generations and how attitudes changed, the exploration of memory and place. Brian indulging the well-meaning but somewhat stuffy academics, but finding something of worth in their study despite himself was wonderful. I would have liked a little more of Alex’s story - both father and son being gay is such an interesting topic to explore and, again, I felt we skimmed this a touch.

I loved the different ways McMillan told this story - more conventional 3rd person narrative, the almost lyrical repetition of the coal mining scene (you can tell McMillan is a poet too), the outsider perspective told through gossip or cctv, the academic study - again perhaps this could be a few too many for such a short piece, but each section was engaging, and the novel is just brimming with excellent points and ideas. I did occasionally find the coal-mining scenes a tad repetitive - this was rather the point, but it did feel like it took up a little unnecessary space in such a short piece, and the same effect could have been achieved with a slightly lighter touch - every other chapter, perhaps. That being said, this was still an incredibly strong debut. McMillan is a skilled writer and I look forward to reading more of his work in future.

'Pity' is a masterful first novel by poet Andrew McMillan which deftly explores the lives of three generations in a Northern mining town.

In this short but polyphonic novel, we move frequently between different times and perspectives: we meet brothers Brian and Alex as teenagers who plan to follow their father into the mines, but also as adults in the present day looking back on their lives after the closure of the mines: Brian meets with some visiting academics exploring the psychogeography of Barnsley, while Alex broods on a secret in his personal life that led to the breakdown of his marriage. In the present, we also meet Alex's adult son, Simon, a call-centre operative and part-time drag performer and online sex worker, and Alex's partner, security guard Ryan.

McMillan weaves these threads together to offer a powerful account of Barnsley's past and present alongside the intertwined lives and relationships of the central family. By allowing the different voices to rub alongside each other, the novel resists both sentimentality and tragedy, and rejects any attempt to reduce Barnsley to one defining story: at one point, Brian asks the visiting academics, 'You keep using the word narrative, [...] you keep saying truth, you keep asking us the same things in different ways. What is it that you want from us?' Later, when discussing an explosion in the mine, Brian again rejects their take on it: 'I don't want new ways to talk about what happened, I don't want to talk about it.' Because of the way these contrasting perspectives are held in tension with each other, what emerges feels like a particularly truthful representation of people and place. This is likewise reflected in McMillan's depiction of LGBTQIA+ experience through the differing viewpoints of Simon, Ryan and Alex.

As one would expect from a poet like McMillan, this is an exquisitely written novel which will reward multiple re-readings. Many thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for sending me an ARC to review.

I liked this book . It is very short, 99 pages and tells the story of an ex coalmining town in South Yorkshire and the experience of gay men within the town. I thought the different viewpoints gave a fragmented picture at first, but as the book progresses, the different pieces come together to give a rounded picture of the town which is more insightful because of the different ways of looking at the themes. Theory is provided by the social scientists who are looking for meaning behind the townspeoples reactions to events such as the explosion.
The language used in the book is carefully chosen, definately no excessive description here and yet you do get a good image of the place both now and in the past . All in all a thought provoking and thoughtful read
Thanks to Net Galley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review

A sparse, effective debut novel, Pity looks at a town in South Yorkshire through the eyes of several generations of local men. The a recurring motifs include masculinity, northern working-class queerness, and the mining history of the region, which were often overlapping and thought-provoking.
McMillan creates several different narrative viewpoints, including ‘field notes’ from a group of visiting anthropologists in the town, and surveillance footage from varying CCTV cameras, all of which are woven together to create a rich and satisfying tapestry. A particular highlight was the rhythmic and poetic segments from the perspective of the father/grandfather, a miner, and his experiences tramping down towards the mine of a morning, the town ‘on his shoulder’.
Pity is a great debut that is well worth reading, my main criticism is that it could’ve with being longer to spend more time sitting with the main themes.

Pity by Andrew McMillan is a debut novel, fairly short at just under 200 pages. Still it manages to say a lot; joining several viewpoints to tell a story about small-town life.

Once depending on the labour heavy mining industry, the town itself is now questioning its purpose and identity.
We get an insight into three generations of men from the same family and how time has shaped their very different lives.
The narrative style feels painfully mundane. But it’s also the everyday lives of people, their jobs and relationships.
What is it like to be queer in Barnsley today? We get an insight into a younger generation embracing gayness and OnlyFans through Simon and his boyfriend, Ryan. But there is still the fear of being judged, not visibly being ‘too gay in public.’
The middle-aged generation; through the eyes of Alex - has a failed marriage behind him, grappling with his ‘closeted’ existence and coming to terms with his sexuality.
The grandfather is represented through extracts from the mine; the strike and the darkness below ground.

Andrew McMillan is a poet and this comes across in his writing - his voice is very unique.
‘Pity’ is multilayered and speaks of family, love and loneliness. It feels bleak but also hopeful. All universally relatable topics which are interesting; still I found this particular story wasn’t speaking to me. We get a brief insight but perhaps not enough to get to know the characters.
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3/5 stars
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Advance copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

amazingly relatable characters with a story split across decades of time and generations of voice.
The sections set in or describing the mining and the journey of the men to the pit head were poetic and moving and the delicate way in which the characters sexuality is introduced and described was masterful.

Wonderful characterisation, great atmosphere and touching on the very real social history of mining communities ion a way that makes you want to read on beyond the end of the story.

A wonderful book looking at the impact of the Thatcher years on a mining community, focusing on pit closures and Section 28 through the eyes of Brian and Alex (brothers), Simon, Alex's son and Ryan, Simon's not-completely-out partner. McMillan's skills a poet are evident in the clarity of the exquisite prose as he unearths the centre of these men and a South Yorkshire past that still defines so much of their lives.

The structure is very clever with the alternating points of view between the different generations. The addition of the researchers' interviews as they attempt to dissect and interpret this past is genius, perfectly juxtaposing academic distance with personal, lived experience, exposing both how limited and how insightful this sort of work can be. The repetition of the morning routine of the miners is increasingly powerful, setting up a rhythm and a reminder for the rest of the work.

It's flawless, melding all of the qualities of poetry and prose. Pared back but hugely powerful.

A beautifully written short novel about three generations of men based in a South Yorkshire mining community. This is a tale that explores community, sexuality and masculinity and is sharply observed, witty and satirical, especially the scenes of the workshops organised by academics and the “field notes” which feel like they have been written as travel guides to a foreign country.

Reviewed as an advance copy, with thanks to the author, publisher and NetGalley.

Pity by Andrew McMillan

There are some occurrences which befall a town or city, which are so traumatic, that the psychological scars are far deeper and last far longer than the physical ones. The events leading up to, and the eventual closure of Yorkshire’s coal mines has left such a legacy.

This short novel, set in post coal mine Yorkshire considers its deep felt mining history and the challenge of how research into such communities can truly understand the impact; both objective as outsiders and subjective from those living there.

Against this backdrop is a rites of passage tale of growing adolescent maturity and sexuality - something repeated through all generations.At times, quite explicit writing,creates an immediacy and rawness; a feeling of honesty and bravery, which stays lingering in the memory.

A novella set in Yorkshire about a drag Queen who plays Margaret Thatcher. (this turn is not a lady)

Different POVs in the book which I usually dislike but here worked for me. A short book but packed a punch. had ai lived in the UK through the Tatcher years it might have struck more of a cord.

Thanks to NetGalley for the ARC

A debut novel based on the history of the mining town of Barnsley as told through three generations of the same family. Grandfather Brian a miner, whose narration was easily my favourite part of the book. Lyrical and powerful they set a scene for an imperfect past. Further views come from his sons, and grandson. This is a story of masculinity, sexuality and the plight of a town robbed of its industry, (with strong references to Thatcher) and its impact on future generations.

A study of masculinity through a members of a single Barnsley family, mixing styles and perspectives to create layers that build in effect through the novel. The sense of repetition and small changes is most explicit in the miners story, but arguably the same impact is felt in all of the sections - the many tiny changes that ultimately lead to a fresh sense of perspective. Least successful for me is the academic outsiders perspective, although I assume this is deliberate in its alienation.
Pity is a short, powerful read that uses language and structure carefully to reach both an intellectual and emotional ending. I hope McMillan continues to write novels in the future.

Pity follows three generations of men in an old mining town, outlining their identities and mapping their pasts. The academic additions work because they are neither presented as omniscient and worldly nor as supercilious and unnecessary. The novel shows interaction and dialogue between past and present, academia and blue collar life, father and son, partners. It is experimental and it works.

There seems to be a small literary movement that mixes scientific language, memories, art and poetry with classical narrative, often focusing on gay experiences. And I seem to like these books. Pity is different in many ways from Justin Torres's Blackouts, but the mixture of distinctly different perspectives and tones connects both in my mind. In Pity, there is a group of social scientists who visit a town where a mining disaster happened decades earlier and try to find a new language to talk about these things. They ask what it means for a town to be known only for its disasters. But their field notes are only one strand of the narrative.

There is also Brian, whose father died in the disaster and who takes part in a number of interviews. A father and a miner himself, he goes to the 'interactive sessions' that the academics hold to interact with the locals. He remembers the town of his past, remembers language and meaning, and serves as a resistance to the outsiders' interpretations, while also learning from them.

A third voice is that of Brian's brother, Alex, who struggles with his own identity as he comes to accept his son Simon's way of life - a gay man with an only-fans account and a regular drag queen gig that he wants to make more political.

As well as his plans for a Maggie Thatcher parody, Simon is also struggling with his relationship with his boyfriend Ryan, who participates in the only-fans aspect of his life but seems unsure of his drag persona.

Ryan - the fifth voice in the novel - works in a shopping centre and dreams of a career as a policeman. His chapters are in the sections entitled Surveillance: CCTV, because he spends most of his time in the office looking at security cameras.

And throughout, in a different font, are memories from across time, of the older Brian, the father who died in the mine accident, and also the voice of a seventh person watching these other people in the club ("gossip").

All of this can be confusing - different fonts and styles overlapping, the narrative mostly speaking for itself rather than explaining its own form or logic - but it is also fascinating. I kept wondering if it was all working, without being able to put it down. The prose is precise, sometimes poetic, always to the point. Some of the descriptions - especially of the only-fans aspect of Simon's life - are perhaps too explicit, but I found that it worked for me as part of the watching, the observing that the novel incorporates into its narrative.

I found this a fascinating approach to the continuing fallout from a mining disaster, the mining strikes and pit closure, the lives of ex-miners and the burgeoning visibility of LGBTQ+ lives against this community of traditional masculinity. Set in South Yorkshire.

I loved the adopted style of interleaving lives with social documentary, much like Middlemarch and other Victorian novels. An academic group has come to the town to interview its residents about their perspectives on memory of the town. We see the declining town through lived experience, the academics refer to a "post industrial space" and bring a poet as an aid to dredging memory for what is a study (which presented as having been dreamed up in ivory towers) rather than an interest in change. It is also an incisive take on "a stranger comes to town" plotline.

Whilst this is so much a story of place, conjured brilliantly through the overlapping strands, it is also the social history which the researchers are failing to capture. Three generations of men conveying their lives which seep into each other despite their different outlooks. The art of the writing is that the reader is shown not told what is important. The accident, the friendships, the society....so we move between the daily grind of the pit to video surveillance in a shopping centre to drag queens without missing a beat.

I found it a captivating narrative once I had the voices in my head and achieved full immersion!

With thanks to #NetGalley and #Canongate Books for allowing me to read for review

3.5 stars!

I was super excited by this queer little book set in a mining town in the north of England, and in many ways it did deliver but I was also left wanting a bit more from it. I read it during a mega busy period at work, so it took me about 3 days to read the first half. The second half which I read in one sitting landed much better, so perhaps it’s one of those books best devoured all in one go.

Pity explores (however briefly) the lives of a few men, queer and straight (and some not as straight as they appear) in a mining town in Barnsley, Yorkshire. I live in an old mining town myself, and I really enjoyed the exploration of the effect Thatcher had on the industry, as well as the expectations on men to perform a certain type of masculinity.

The star of the book is Simon, a drag performer with a few side hustles (including his OnlyFans account and betting shop gig) to make ends meet. He wants to take his drag to the next level, make it art instead of some quirky entertainment for pissed punters. The book explores his relationship with his father, often walking on eggshells around his som, as well as his blossoming relationship with Ryan, a gay man who doesn’t seem fully comfortable accepting Simon’s feminine side when he’s in drag.

There are also several little asides told in a chorus-like manner - gossip from locals, CCTV footage. These parts felt like they had potential, but I’m not sure, something felt not quite developed. I did love the cutaways to the miners, it is a brutal industry and it’s a little mind-boggling how much a town can be built around coal and the men who dig it out of the ground.

Overall, I enjoyed it but wanted more from it. Would definitely pick up the author’s future works!

This is a lovely book, exploring so many areas surrounding the male experience in small towns that had the heart ripped out of them when the industries and the work that they felt defined them were snatched away. That McMIllan has primarily been known as a poet is clear; while his writing is direct, it has a beautiful sense of rhythm and tone.

Having lived in the area where Pity is set and worked in further education, I can say that McMillan has nailed it perfectly. I could point to so many aspects that he reflects on, but for me the stand=outs are the pride in the pits - despite them being despised as nowhere anyone would want their sons to follow them - that offered not only a living, but community and fraternity, and the suspicion of the new, whether that be "incomers" or educators. Centring the novel on same-sex relationships in a place that's always been a little behind the times gives potential for a lot of material.

I was disappointed to get to the end as I wanted to know more about the journeys of the central characters, but I take that as a mark of respect to McMillan for creating people I cared about. My only criticism is the lack of female characters; Barnsley and its environs - especially the mining villages in the times of the strike - had a lot of strong women holding the fort and going on to be the main breadwinners of the family when times got tough. Perhaps that's fuel for another book another day.

Not sure that the title is apt - and might possibly put people off, thinking it is a kind of pity memoir. I guess there's a play on words with reference to the area's mining history, but I kept feeling Pity just wasn't a title to attract on the shelf. There's little to pity in here, although plenty with which to empathise and sympathise.

A warm and thought-provoking book. Recommended.

Brian and Alex are brothers from an ex-mining town.
Alex has a son, Simon, who is gay and fully embraces his sexuality with a OnlyFans site where he uploads videos, involving his boyfriend Ryan. He also does drag, which Ryan isn’t so keen on as he feels it effeminate.
Simon develops an act playing Margaret Thatcher and making fun of the Iron Lady.
At the same time a group of academics and artists are working with local people to create a shared community history of the ex-mining town.
This was the interesting aspect for me: the parachuting in of a group, probably paid for by the Arts Council or a University, who aim to make people feel more in touch with their history. It is clear that Simon’s own art, developed as a person who grew up there and in touch with the community, gets a better reaction and appreciation than the outsiders.
There is also an interwoven story about Alex and his repressed homosexuality.
The writing is broken up into strata like the coal, with small chunks of field reports from the Community History project and CCTV footage from the local shopping centre.
I enjoyed the story and the style, reminiscent of Sillitoe or Hines, but that also made it feel slightly out of time. Although the author acknowledges history crushing down on the past, in an age where many authors are writing about climate change, I wonder what ex-miners feel about the part the coal industry played. That’s me putting my politics on to my review, however.

Andrew McMillan’s first novel Pity is subtitled ‘notes from a town’ and in many ways that’s a rather accurate summary of what this short literary work offers. I’d seen somewhere prior to reading that McMillan is a poet, but I like to imagine this possibility would have crossed my mind anyway; staccato prose, echoes and repetitions ricocheting across the pages, a measured sense of rhythm and the feeling at certain points that very particular words had been selected. (Yes, yes, of course this should really be a given for all published works, but we know it doesn’t always quite turn out like that) Plus Denise Riley is quoted at both the start and end, enshrouding the tale (these tales?) in elliptical, weighty imagery. But maybe I’m being too generous to myself and the poetry connection wouldn’t have occurred to me.

There is a narrative (to use one of the words most favoured by the sociological researchers who form part of this story) which emerges over the course of the book, and the strands entwine together neatly. Different fonts indicate switches between generations or settings, layers atop layers, observations about men, and kinship and back-breaking toil, about what lies beneath both literally and figuratively. It’s a modest piece in some ways, ambitious in parts but one that still keeps its feet close to - and at times, below - the ground; the reader perhaps invited to fill in gaps, to stretch this tale of closed-down mines and a post-industrial South Yorkshire town onto a wider canvas and draw links to lives and communities elsewhere, both past and present. People aren’t so very different wherever you go, and certainly I can’t imagine coal mining being a much easier job in any other part of the globe. Similar sentiments and modern-day issues will likely arise elsewhere as a result.

I read it in a few sittings in the course of one day, it doesn’t take more than a couple of hours, and overall I enjoyed it, not least its brevity. Characters deftly sketched, atmosphere and different shades of mood confidently evoked. I’ll be curious to see how it is received upon publication.

With thanks to NetGalley for an ARC in exchange for an unbiased review.