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Lying in front of Harrison Opuku is a body, the body of one of his classmates, a boy known for his crazy basketball skills, who seems to have been murdered for his dinner. Armed with a pair of camouflage binoculars and detective techniques absorbed from television shows like CSI, Harri and his best friend, Dean, plot to bring the perpetrator to justice. They gather evidence-fingerprints lifted from windows with tape, a wallet stained with blood-and lay traps to flush out the murderer. But nothing can prepare them for what happens when a criminal feels you closing in on him.Recently emigrated from Ghana with his sister and mother to London?s enormous housing projects, Harri is pure curiosity and ebullience-obsessed with gummy candy, a friend to the pigeon who visits his balcony, quite possibly the fastest runner in his school, and clearly also fast on the trail of a murderer.Told in Harri's infectious voice and multicultural slang, Pigeon English follows in the tradition of our great novels of friendship and adventure, as Harri finds wonder, mystery, and danger in his new, ever-expanding world.… (more)
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The novel opens with the stabbing death of a schoolboy on a sidewalk near Harri's flat. Harri does not know the boy well, as he is older and goes to another school, but he and his friends vow to find out who murdered him. Inspired by the American television show CSI, the boys use their fledging detective skills to spy on potential suspects and gather fingerprints and other specimens from the crime scene. Harri is generally well liked by his classmates, as he is a fast runner and a good fighter, and he eagerly participates in typical boyhood pranks and games. His home life is a bit dull, as his older sister finds him to be a bother, and he befriends a pigeon who serves as a companion, confidant, and guardian angel.
As the story progresses, the identity of the boy's killer is obvious to the reader, but not to Harri, whose investigation intensifies as he gathers more clues and puts himself in danger.
[Pigeon English] was written in honor of Damilola Taylor, a 10 year old Nigerian boy who was murdered in 2000 in the south London neighborhood of Peckham, along with other children in the UK who experience fear and violence on a daily basis, and is also based on the author's own childhood experiences and people he encountered as a child and young adult. Harrison's voice and character are maddening, lovable, and ultimately unforgettable, and this is one of the better coming of age stories that I've read. The novel's main flaw is the character of the guardian pigeon, whose comments I found inscrutable and whose presence was unnecessary and distracting, which caused me to knock half a star off of my rating of this otherwise superb novel. It is also a very timely one, given the recent acts of violence in impoverished neighborhoods in south London and elsewhere. I doubt that Pigeon English will win this year's Booker Prize or even make the longlist, but it is a novel that was enjoyable and deserves to be widely read.
The novel is narrated from Harrison’s first-person point of view, relying on the time-honoured method of having a child narrator witness events that he can’t quite understand, but which the reader can. (And frankly, for an eleven-year old, he’s a fucking idiot.) Harrison’s meandering tale is peppered with a mixture of African-accented phoentics and London slang, and I quickly grew tired of reading the words “donkey hours,” “everybody agrees,” and “Asweh!” It’s not the Kelman fails to create a convincing voice for Harry, but rather that a) it’s an annoying voice, and b) he uses it as a crutch to give the book a sense of profundity. There are a number of scenes where Kelman relies on Harrison’s plain statements to relay the book’s unsubtle themes, and some clumsy attempts at symbolism which come across as the author clutching at straws. The book’s talking pigeon, which speaks directly to the reader (and sometimes to Harrison) had me rolling my eyes.
Pigeon English also has a completely left-field ending, one which I thought was a bit harsh, but at that point I no longer cared. It was one of those novels which I was really happy to finish, simply because I didn’t have to read it anymore.
Perhaps it’s just me – Pigeon English has been receiving rave reviews. But I found it to be a tremendously irritating novel, and would be disappointed if it won.
BOOKER VERDICT
The rave reviews worry me. Without them, I’d be honestly surprised that this clumsy and amaterish novel had even been shortlisted. In any case, Pigeon English is the least worthy of all the shortlisted novels I’ve read thus far, and if it wins it will be at the expense of several astronomically superior books (specifically Jamrach’s Menagerie and The Sisters Brothers). Given that this year’s panel seem to be very open to genre novels and not as much to the traditional contemporary-realist-moralising type, I feel that I can safely say it won’t win. And yet it lurks. It lurks.
Harri, along with his sister and mother, has recently moved from Ghana to an impoverished inner city highrise project. Harri makes a convincing eleven year old narrator, both spirited and good -hearted, in
Harri finds himself equally repelled and fascinated by the crime that surrounds him as he tries to navigate his new life.
When a boy is " chooked" or stabbed dead while Harri looks on from a distance, he begins his own murder investigation, using sellotape to gather finger prints , among other methods of investigation.
I was deeply touched by and saddened by many elements of this story , knowing that much of what is described is a reality for impoverished inner city dwellers. The book gave me a great deal of insight into the recent riots in the UK.
A powerful and heartbreaking novel.
Very much recommmended.
On the surface, this appears to be a murder-mystery, but the mystery doesn't last all that long and the story becomes much more about life, about family, and about one child growing up in one particular summer in one particular place. As with many coming-of-age stories, there are familiar patterns followed -- fights, discoveries, kissing, etc. all come in to play at one point or another -- but nothing in this novel feels stale or trite, even in those moments when things feel familiar. Those looking for a cozy, resolved story should keep looking, but for others, this sometimes rambling, sometimes plotless, but always quick and interesting novel is well worth the time. Let this one get under your skin a little.
Eleven-year-old Harrison (“Harri”) Opuku is new to London from Ghana, living with his mother and older sister among gangs in the housing projects. He’s a dreamer, a curious observer, a bit of an underdog -- and so disturbed by the murder of an older boy that he and a friend devote the next several months to working their versions of TV’s CSI to solve the crime.
This is a coming-of-age novel to read for its unique narrative voice -- first-person present tense, with a sweet optimism and naïve unreliability to love and heavy street/immigrant language that intrigues then becomes tedious. It’s short, sometimes beautiful, but often juvenile to the point that I didn’t care to finish ... and then with a one-in-a-hundred ending that changed my rating of the novel from not-good to good. Important, even.
While I can’t say that Stephen Kelman’s novel Pigeon English was a whole lot of fun to read, I don’t regret having made the effort. Elements of the novel can be challenging and/or tedious, but by the time you reach the end it packs a powerful punch.
The novel
Harri and his best friend, Dean, decide they’re going to investigate dead boy’s murder. Dean’s seen many episodes of CSI, so he knows how it’s done. This “investigation” is a loose thread throughout the novel, which takes place over the course of several months. But mostly Pigeon English is the Harri show. And Harri is as sweet and endearing a character as I’ve read in quite some time. He’s smack in the middle of the London projects, stabbings and AIDS and junkies are a part of his daily reality, and yet, somehow, he is an innocent. And he is in peril. The seduction of the street gangs is just one of the many threats the adult reader sees looming over the young man. And it’s painful to read. Still, there is a lot of humor salted throughout the novel.
Another narrative element is Harri’s affection for a pigeon that flies into their flat one day. Harri explains, “I just wanted something that’s alive that I can feed and teach tricks to.” A pet pigeon isn’t in the cards, but Harri keeps an eye on him. The pigeon, it seems, keeps an eye on Harri as well. Throughout the novel are brief interludes from the pigeon’s point of view as he watches over Harri. These are some of the most beautiful passages. Ironically, the pigeon’s English is flawless.
As sweet, imaginative, and funny as Harri is, reading an entire novel in his voice is a challenge. For starters, he has a very limited vocabulary. Despite his assertion that in “England there’s a hell of different words for everything,” he tends to use the same handful. Some are recognizably English—though I’ve never seen anyone so often “vexed” as he is. Other words are more open to interpretation. I think the frequent exclamation “Asweh” is “I swear.” An angry person is “red-eyes.” “Bo-styles” means cool. A long time is “donkey hours.” A tricky person is a “confusionist.” And most mysterious of all was the word “hutious,” used in so many different contexts that I’m left to conclude that it bears a grammatical resemblance to “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”
Thankfully, this is a short novel, and the language can be dealt with. When I finally got to the end, I can’t honestly say that I didn’t see it coming. Still, it was a shock. Or perhaps the shock was just how much of an emotional wallop it packed. And ultimately, that’s why I rate this novel a success—because by the end, I cared deeply about this child.
It wasn't terrible. The voice was interesting and engaging, and I guess the rich, white British people who
The narrator of Pigeon English is a eleven-year-old boy who recently immigrated from Ghana to a poor neighborhood of London. He experiences the new world he's living in through unique eyes, and it leads to a novel that is all about voice. The voice is generally pretty good; it's consistent and engaging, with some funny things going on. But the problem is that there was never a time I found it totally authentic. Halfway through the book, I actually looked the author up online, because I was so certain that he was a white, non-immigrant.
I was correct.
I am absolutely not one of those people who thinks that authors can't write characters outside of their class, their race, their sex, their personal point of view. But when you are doing that, you have an especial burden to make it seem real. You have to have a real and sympathetic understanding of how your character will sound, how he or she will react, how he or she builds a view of the world from his or her past — not yours.
There are lots of writers who do this well. Why is Booker lauding an author who doesn't?
It seems that we are surrounded with adolescent narrators these days; Harri will stay with me. His description of the world around him, blending his innocence with a sort of 11-year-old wisdom (you know, the wisdom born of innocence), is really quite captivating, amusing, ironic, and sad.
I recommend this book. I recommend staying with it even when you feel like giving it up.
Sadly
However, about three-quarters of the way through this book, I began to tire of Harrison’s voice. His tendency to treat the dangers of the projects as if they were a game dulled my sense of horror at what Harrison faced every day. Perhaps the device of an 11-year-old narrator in such a serious situation was interesting, but unsustainable, I thought. And then I came to the ending. I won’t spoil it here, but I will go so far to say that it wasn’t until the ending that I appreciated what Kelman had done. By telling the story through Harrison’s eyes, he created a dissonance – violence seen through innocent eyes – that was more powerful than the unvarnished violence that an adult might describe.
Its greatest strength for me was its tremendously appealing narrator, whose voice is original and captivating. That is an amazing achievement. It also has a
It's hard to talk about this book without mentioning the Booker Prize 2011 shortlist. I read it because it was shortlisted. Though I enjoyed it, I can't say it would have made my cut for the best of the year. It's a good book. It's a lot better than fellow nominee "Snowdrops." But it is too flawed for me to consider it in the same rank as some of the past winners. I think most readers looking to read a Booker nominee this year would be much better served by the excellent Carol Birch and Julian Barnes entries.
A sad book which echoes the Damilola Taylor case, and really brings home the lack of opportunities for children on these sink estates. I noticed that some reviewers felt that Harrison was unrealisticly naive for his age but given that he had recently arrived in the UK from a different culture, I felt his lack of understanding about some issues were realistic - if anything he seemed to have settled into his new life with suprisingly few problems. Despite being narrated in Harrison's own words it's a fairly easy read, and one which is well worth reading.
I had a few reservations overall. There was a type of supernatural 'guardian pigeon' theme which really didn't work for me. And to me Harrison had settled into his new life far too quickly with very little sign of homesickness. I do think as well that from very early in the book it was fairly clear what the outcome was going to be. So overall a good read but not a great one.
I really didn't like the pigeon part but it does serve its purpose. And Harri likes them - so be it.
Some of the reasons for it being panned may include the simple language, the heavy use of slang, and the fact that one of the minor characters is, in fact, a pigeon. None of that bothered me in the slightest. It only added to my appreciation of the book.
Harrison is a boy who has come to London from Ghana. A classmate of his is murdered, and he and a friend set out to find the killer. Yes, Harrison has a tendency to repeat himself. Yes, Harrison uses slang, if not in every sentence, then in every paragraph. Yes, he has childish, little boy tendencies and quirks. As a mother of two boys myself, I recognized most of these supposed ‘faults’ as completely believable, common attributes of boys in this age range.
I loved Harrison and his voice in the book. I did not know the real life story it was based on, so I had no way of knowing the outcome of the story. But as I said, this is the one book that I thought about afterwards the most. Good luck to Stephen Kelman, and congratulations on your Booker shortlist nomination. Pigeon English deserves its place there.
Joan mentioned the paradox of Harri and his family moving from the
Viti picked up on a subtle atmosphere of menace that lay beneath the whole story and also pointed to the Lord of the Flies analogy of loss of rules and breakdown of family and social structures. Well done Viti!
Everyone took Harri’s pigeon to be the carrier of his thoughts and emotions. A small but meaningful balance to Harri’s new world of Adidas trainers and gangland murder.
By far the most condemning aspect of Pigeon English would have to be its failure to connect our readers with the main characters and their plight. As a whole, our group prefers to connect with and care about those within the pages, so no matter how clever, innovative or profound a work of literature is, if we cannot relate or feel compassion, our enjoyment level drops and so does our recommendation.
As always, we would be interested in your opinion. If you’ve read Pigeon English, leave a comment and let us know what you think.
The language used in the book is mostly slang, the style of writing is very interesting and did take me some time to get used to. At first I felt a little A.D.D. not knowing what was going on and had a little trouble following the story. Sounding out the words and keep reading was the key to finally getting a grip on it and starting to enjoy it more. I have to say I learned a lot of new words that Asweah I will probably not use in my daily conversations.
My favorite parts of the story were his banter with his sister and sometimes his friends that made me laugh out loud. I thought it was cute that he made friends with the Pigeons and like any normal kid, had a high curiosity of the things that were happening in his neighborhood.
There are good things that happen and bad things that happen, but all the while Harri takes things in stride, like an 11 year old does. Sucks in all of the information he can gather, processes it and spits it back out. This book for me was highly reminiscent of Pay it Forward with an African twist.
This book is not labeled as a Young Adult novel. It contains some pretty serious situations and has all too real scenes of murder and gang related activities. Even though has some very entertaining and witty parts, it has a very emotional, heavy moments. The main character is very young but deals with some very adult situations and I would only recommend to more mature readers.
The novel is told (mostly) from Harri's point of view. It is here that I can see why the book has been compared to The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. Through Harri's narration, we end up understanding more than he does about what it going on around him. I think this works in places, and in others have a harder time believing he'd be that naïve, even at his age. His enthusiasm and energy come through, as do his sometimes conflicting desires to be safe/fit in vs to be good/truer to himself. Without his father in the home, Harri feels it is his role to protect, to be the man of the family. Yet at 11 years old and in a tough neighborhood where gangs are a part of everyday life, this is not easy. Not to mention, he's just a kid - he wants to use reward money if they solve the crime to buy a Playstation, he likes to run, he's discovering girls...
There are also interludes narrated by a pigeon that watches over Harri. It took some time for these to work for me, but I slowly came around to the metaphor and the role in the story.
I knew the book had a lot of hype, and that tends to make me wary. That said, it is a good first novel, yes, with its flaws and not a particularly surprising ending, but a voice and story that kept me interested throughout.