By Andrew McMillan.
⭐️⭐️⭐️
Pity paints a vivid portrait of Barnsley, a town shaped by its coal-mining past and scarred by its decline. Through three generations of one family, McMillan explores themes of identity, resilience, and the long shadow cast by industrial collapse.
While the ambition of this book is undeniable, its execution leaves certain elements feeling underexplored.
The narrative alternates between the poetic recollections of a grandfather’s time in the mines, the struggles of middle-aged Alex confronting his hidden identity amidst personal turmoil, and the modern-day experiences of Alex’s son, Simon, whose passion lies in drag performance and sex work.
These character arcs offer a nuanced exploration of generational grief, identity, and community, underscored by Barnsley’s transformation from a thriving industrial hub to a town adrift.
Interspersed with "fieldnotes," the book deftly examines the decline of industry, the scars left by Thatcherism, and the enduring role of local football. However, at just 100 pages, the book feels constrained, with its themes—queer shame, family grief, and the impact of a fatal mining accident—often rushed or given insufficient depth.
The structure, while innovative, is fragmented. The brevity of sections, though evocative at times, creates a disjointed reading experience that undermines the weight of the story’s emotional and historical layers.
Despite this, the book succeeds in capturing the ghost-like presence of the past and its influence on the present. It is a nostalgic, thought-provoking exploration of change, loss, and the search for purpose in a world that has left its roots behind.
While it could have benefited from more pages to fully develop its impressive themes, this book remains a poignant reflection on Barnsley’s history and the lives shaped by its decline.
I brought this book with me while travelling in Kuala Lumpur, and it proved to be a compelling and memorable read during my journey.
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