Raveheart review by Graeme Armstrong – Rebellion of the Angry in Scottish Political Satire | imaginary

MIn his firecracker debut, 2020’s The Young Team, Graeme Armstrong throws the reader into a vivid narrative, from protagonist Azzy’s pre-party pharmaceutical preparation, to the mysterious abandonment and resulting euphoria, to the inevitable collapse back to Earth. The description of the haunting tragedy is a welcome 2000s update to Kingsley Amis’s beer-soaked angst in Lucky Jim. All of this, set against the terrified backdrop of the Juvenile Wars in the working-class area of ​​Airdrie, near Glasgow, has earned Armstrong a place in Granta’s list of Best Young British Novelists of 2023.

You might think there’s not much to be said on the subject of illegal raves, but in his second novel he redoubles his efforts, while abandoning social grit for cartoonish political satire. Narrator William Patterson, also known as DJ Turbo, has regular turntables for the kids at the ice rink, until a new political party sweeps Britain, demanding a return to civilized values ​​and promising to eradicate moral decadence. At the top of the agenda is a complete ban on electronic music and youth gatherings associated with it. Freedom, fun and independent thinking are unacceptable. Suddenly out of work, Turbo becomes Scotland’s least enthusiastic data entry clerk, while secretly plotting rebellion.

While the young team favored linear prose delivered in a strong Scottish accent, here verbal dexterity takes precedence over plot, with digressions, rants, helpful clues to street drugs, and pages of dialogue spelled out like scripts. The cast of characters is presented in list form, with nicknames, lengthy descriptions, and favorite soundtracks. Turbo’s voluptuous classmate, Jessica, is cast in Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush, Strawberry Switchblade from Yesterday, and Spellbound by Siouxsie and the Banshees; Key scenes come with a suggested techno anthem for fans. Real and fictional DJs pepper the story.

Inspired by Scottish hero William Wallace, Turbo organizes his crew—Fish, Orbit, Section B, and, reluctantly, his “little brother” Rapp—to form the Scottish Techno Pirates, with wild plans for a campaign of civil disobedience. Other groups soon form around them, with expected disagreements over methods, specifically the use of violence. The Milkshake Marauders who ditch the dairy are generally useless, while the Scottish Hardcore Coven that revere Plath can only be relied on sporadically for backup. Meanwhile, Raab criticizes his brother’s driving ability: “His appearance is rough, rough as toast, living in faded glory, his stories of the young, veteran team… You need to look after yourself, William.”

Although its patchwork and cumulative structure is very different, there are many references in common with the previous book; Clearly we’re in the same world of JPS gays, ‘Tonic’ (buckfast tonic wine) bottles and Tennent’s cans, and very subtle style notes. The revolution will be modern. The ubiquitous Rangers and Celtic ‘taps’, Berghaus’s shells against the perpetual Glasgow drizzle, were added to the ‘vintage Stone Island khaki jacket, baggy trousers, big fluorescent Hoka boots’ (for Lacey) and the ‘2004-5 pink and black Juventus shirt’.

There is a sad sense of the passage of time as Turbo reluctantly realizes that he is now at the end of his enthusiastic run. Like Azzy in The Young Team, he realizes that it’s not that the drugs don’t work anymore; In your 30s, you become more aware of mortality and physical damage. Also, “The freeze in taste is real. Your finger slides over the pulse and new names and faces appear, while you cling to the familiar and past things that have already been done.” (This track, for example.) “We spent time in the sun, and once it magically appeared, the ascent ended over a year heading toward Earth, losing altitude, disintegrating the fuselage, and hitting the prop fur.”

There are funny bits of invective against hipsters, expats and posh English students, but for all the sledgehammer satire, sensitivity suffuses the narrative. Armstrong’s own references include Milton, Dante, the Bible, Apocalypse Now, and of course Braveheart, with stunning cover art featuring Robert Burns as Che Guevara. Turbo is a less clear character than Azzy, and the plot gets lost in the clutter of information, but Armstrong’s passion for the subculture is infectious, even to the uninitiated. Behind the glow sticks and beats lies the universal and compelling question of what it means to be fully alive.