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You Have to Be Careful in the Land of the Free
Just one quick drink to help him sleep, a last few hours to think about what's ahead of him &ndash, and what's in the past. And gradually it becomes less a question of whether he'll make that flight tomorrow, more a question of whether he'll make it through the night at all. Because if there's one thing Jeremiah has learned
448 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2004
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Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews
December 4, 2016
Wandering through the PR's of my university library, desperate for a quick break from my thesis, I found this colorful book jacket beckoning to me. James Kelman, who the hell is that? Booker prize winner? Most acclaimed Scottish writer? 500 pages of Scottish vernacular stream-of-consciousness, comprising 24 hours of a day-in-the-life? Let's go!
I made it to his fifth or sixth beer and had to call it a day. I like the guy, I do. Irreverent, a rebel, but genuine, and a little vulnerable. But I needed him to get up and do something, and he refused -- just kept sitting at the bar and ordering one more, promising to get on the plane back to "Skallin" in the morning. I still don't know if he made it.
I understand I probably should have picked up his How Late It Was, How Late for a first go, but the cover wasn't as pretty, so I didn't. I might come back to him when I have the mental patience to savor a beer and relax into the lilting pace of his language. I'm just too uptight right now to give him the space.
I made it to his fifth or sixth beer and had to call it a day. I like the guy, I do. Irreverent, a rebel, but genuine, and a little vulnerable. But I needed him to get up and do something, and he refused -- just kept sitting at the bar and ordering one more, promising to get on the plane back to "Skallin" in the morning. I still don't know if he made it.
I understand I probably should have picked up his How Late It Was, How Late for a first go, but the cover wasn't as pretty, so I didn't. I might come back to him when I have the mental patience to savor a beer and relax into the lilting pace of his language. I'm just too uptight right now to give him the space.
July 22, 2024
"This was my last night on the planet. An alien starship would transport me across the universe. Who knows what the gods decree in their infinite leg-pulling, I was gauny be one of the great mysteries that dissolve into the preternatural twilight of time."James Kelman's You Have to be Careful in the Land of the Free is a dense and angrily profound book. An absolutely breathtaking piece of stream of consciousness reflection. One of the most paranoid yet shatteringly effective novels on post-9/11 America.
July 9, 2009
James Kelman will never again write anything approaching the quality of his Booker Prize winning How late it was how late.
It's not because he isn't a fine writer. It's because How late it was how late is one of those fierce, ineluctable, raging works of art that most artists (but not all) can only produce once in a career. It's the writer's heroin hit, and he spends the rest of his career chasing that dragon of established greatness, which only the truly great can catch again.
So far Kelman doesn't appear to be one of those authors.
You Have to Be Careful in the Land of the Free uses the same stream of consciousness technique as its superior predecessor, but Jeremiah, the narrator, can't compare to Sammy. His problems are as shallow as the American landscape he passes through, and while this was partially Kelman's intention, it is difficult to feel sympathy for Jerry.
Sammy was tragic. A drunken-Smurf of a man caught up in a Greek tragedy. Oedipus with liver disease. His plight, regardless of his character flaws, made him and his story compelling.
Jerry is boring, and his mundanity slows the pace of reading to the speed of a gastropods contractile sequence. I wanted to like You Have to Be Careful in the Land of the Free, even love it, and it wasn't terrible, but because of my memory of How late it was how late I couldn't finish.
I knew I should feel some guilt, but there are other books I need to read. I hope Kelman catches that dragon one more time and becomes one of the greats, though. What a treat that book will be to read.
It's not because he isn't a fine writer. It's because How late it was how late is one of those fierce, ineluctable, raging works of art that most artists (but not all) can only produce once in a career. It's the writer's heroin hit, and he spends the rest of his career chasing that dragon of established greatness, which only the truly great can catch again.
So far Kelman doesn't appear to be one of those authors.
You Have to Be Careful in the Land of the Free uses the same stream of consciousness technique as its superior predecessor, but Jeremiah, the narrator, can't compare to Sammy. His problems are as shallow as the American landscape he passes through, and while this was partially Kelman's intention, it is difficult to feel sympathy for Jerry.
Sammy was tragic. A drunken-Smurf of a man caught up in a Greek tragedy. Oedipus with liver disease. His plight, regardless of his character flaws, made him and his story compelling.
Jerry is boring, and his mundanity slows the pace of reading to the speed of a gastropods contractile sequence. I wanted to like You Have to Be Careful in the Land of the Free, even love it, and it wasn't terrible, but because of my memory of How late it was how late I couldn't finish.
I knew I should feel some guilt, but there are other books I need to read. I hope Kelman catches that dragon one more time and becomes one of the greats, though. What a treat that book will be to read.
March 7, 2009
Kelman at his best perhaps. Witty, human and wise. But he does go on. I am going to elevate this book to a bedside place and edit it into a short story format.
May 12, 2007
Not Kelman's best, but for those attracted by his clever use of stream-of-consciousness narration, this anti-American diatribe sustains interest despite the rebarbativeness of its narrator. Not a patch on How Late It Was, How Late, however.
May 8, 2023
The funniest, wittiest book I’ve read for ages! A laugh a minute, and on some pages ten a minute. The situation is mainly set in a bar the day before the narrators return home to ‘Skallin’. There are of course many long recursions to recent life experiences, many about his job in airport security, that are interrupted by present time events going on around him in the bar.
My obsession with the gulf between the literary culture and the mainly oral world of working class culture, as a prime class distinction, is addressed and annealed. The intrusion of colloquial ‘Skarrisch’ and warped phraseologies are used to create an authentic fictive representation of a working class voice. The wit and banter and story telling embellishments are continually kept Up within the field of play. The story telling soars through paragraphs and pages of eloquence that are often hard to believe. The way that Kelman captures the fleeting qualities and content of consciousness, the lightening quick interactions of feelings, fantasies and language, are perhaps legendary and one can only compare him with Joyce in this respect. Aural allusions are as important as literary references and echoes and it’s all ‘game for a laugh’. But then in the editing and ordering the gravitas of his mission is not forgotten.
This brilliance is offset by a deprecatory narrator who not only ‘always’ loses at gambling but is generally sailing close to the edge of outright failure and oblivion. His temper is barely kept in check, and becomes more fraught with the addition of a few bevvies. Our favour is bought by this temper being frayed by the injustices that abound BUT these might reveal themselves in the slightest glance or minor gesture so there is a sense of danger that under-cuts the jovial nature of much of the banter. And that is the title after all.
How much of the narrator is Kelman? Genuine question - but only to those who’ve never met him. It’s hard to believe this is not him at least 70%!
And what about the repetition? Some folks on Goodreads complain - its a bit too long; He blethers on too much. Like his adoration of his wee daughter. Its sweet and gives the lovely side to his human nature but it does repeat, and like in oral culture it has a purpose; and that is, as a balm to keep the narrating character human in the life of conflict that would otherwise gnaw away at his humanity as represented by the literary ligature. In oral culture repetition can serve to keep values in view, or if you like, reinforce an ephemeral atmosphere.
Similar to this is his professed love of his (ex) partner. I was driven to distraction by Proust’s writing about the obsessive nature of (his) jealousy. But the nature of obsession could only be represented with maddening repetition - that is the nature of its truth. And Kelman is about truth (as well as having fun).
We have been told that once it is written down in black and white you don’t need to repeat it. A shorter use of repetition is when he refers to the constant nagging need for “money, money, money”, three repeats like a song refrain.
Spoken language did not ask to be standardised by the C19th Oxford English clique. It still lives in an indescribably variety and malleable spontaneity. No one can say how a word ‘should be’ pronounced or spelt for that matter, all is up for spur of the moment modifications. Anything can be uttered - though it may not find a consensus. Such a moment is discussed in the book with the narrators suggestion of ‘being’ as an appropriate term a particular person, mythical or real, that could not be labelled with any certainty, seems to be taken up by his workmates. Nonetheless the ill-defined ‘being’ leaves the airport security group, that the narrator is working for, in a state of perplexity. An important metaphor in this book - I would suggest.
It seems to me… that the Kelman books are made for working class readers. But perhaps I underestimate the human ability to translate! Perhaps the literati or at least some of them can get it in some pale way. But it is surely the working class reader that can truly revell in Kelman’s linguistic mélange.
We get working class books that tell us about the working class lives and values and are relatable but not so often do you get those books that challenge the very lingua franca of the literary class. Just like they instituted the supposed superiority of Oxford English so Kelman chips away at the monolith. Nay! more than chips, he hews! Now that is Kelmanesque… “he hews”! I can put my quill down and walk away happy.
Peter Haining a Scot who sent me the book had written on the title page:
“HIS
WORKING CLASS
ETHOS
PREVAILS”
My obsession with the gulf between the literary culture and the mainly oral world of working class culture, as a prime class distinction, is addressed and annealed. The intrusion of colloquial ‘Skarrisch’ and warped phraseologies are used to create an authentic fictive representation of a working class voice. The wit and banter and story telling embellishments are continually kept Up within the field of play. The story telling soars through paragraphs and pages of eloquence that are often hard to believe. The way that Kelman captures the fleeting qualities and content of consciousness, the lightening quick interactions of feelings, fantasies and language, are perhaps legendary and one can only compare him with Joyce in this respect. Aural allusions are as important as literary references and echoes and it’s all ‘game for a laugh’. But then in the editing and ordering the gravitas of his mission is not forgotten.
This brilliance is offset by a deprecatory narrator who not only ‘always’ loses at gambling but is generally sailing close to the edge of outright failure and oblivion. His temper is barely kept in check, and becomes more fraught with the addition of a few bevvies. Our favour is bought by this temper being frayed by the injustices that abound BUT these might reveal themselves in the slightest glance or minor gesture so there is a sense of danger that under-cuts the jovial nature of much of the banter. And that is the title after all.
How much of the narrator is Kelman? Genuine question - but only to those who’ve never met him. It’s hard to believe this is not him at least 70%!
And what about the repetition? Some folks on Goodreads complain - its a bit too long; He blethers on too much. Like his adoration of his wee daughter. Its sweet and gives the lovely side to his human nature but it does repeat, and like in oral culture it has a purpose; and that is, as a balm to keep the narrating character human in the life of conflict that would otherwise gnaw away at his humanity as represented by the literary ligature. In oral culture repetition can serve to keep values in view, or if you like, reinforce an ephemeral atmosphere.
Similar to this is his professed love of his (ex) partner. I was driven to distraction by Proust’s writing about the obsessive nature of (his) jealousy. But the nature of obsession could only be represented with maddening repetition - that is the nature of its truth. And Kelman is about truth (as well as having fun).
We have been told that once it is written down in black and white you don’t need to repeat it. A shorter use of repetition is when he refers to the constant nagging need for “money, money, money”, three repeats like a song refrain.
Spoken language did not ask to be standardised by the C19th Oxford English clique. It still lives in an indescribably variety and malleable spontaneity. No one can say how a word ‘should be’ pronounced or spelt for that matter, all is up for spur of the moment modifications. Anything can be uttered - though it may not find a consensus. Such a moment is discussed in the book with the narrators suggestion of ‘being’ as an appropriate term a particular person, mythical or real, that could not be labelled with any certainty, seems to be taken up by his workmates. Nonetheless the ill-defined ‘being’ leaves the airport security group, that the narrator is working for, in a state of perplexity. An important metaphor in this book - I would suggest.
It seems to me… that the Kelman books are made for working class readers. But perhaps I underestimate the human ability to translate! Perhaps the literati or at least some of them can get it in some pale way. But it is surely the working class reader that can truly revell in Kelman’s linguistic mélange.
We get working class books that tell us about the working class lives and values and are relatable but not so often do you get those books that challenge the very lingua franca of the literary class. Just like they instituted the supposed superiority of Oxford English so Kelman chips away at the monolith. Nay! more than chips, he hews! Now that is Kelmanesque… “he hews”! I can put my quill down and walk away happy.
Peter Haining a Scot who sent me the book had written on the title page:
“HIS
WORKING CLASS
ETHOS
PREVAILS”
May 20, 2023
Kelman’s sixth novel is a sprawling monsterpiece featuring another tortured Glaswegian struggling to make sense of almost everything, written in the author’s signature footloose-and-frenetic interior monologue style. In this one, Jeremiah Brown’s backstory as an ex-pat in America unfurls across his final evening in the land of the free before returning home to his dying mother—the main threads of the story his life with a touring lounge singer and his work as a security operative seeking out aliens like himself sans red cards. Kelman’s narration is ribboned with hilarious Americanisms (“Skarrish” for Scottish, etc) and the fixation on the quirky trivialities of thought taken to comic extremes that made his seminal work How late it was, how late such a triumph. This is vintage Kelman.
October 3, 2018
This one wasn't for me.
At first I enjoyed the unique voice of Jeremiah Brown, a young Scottish immigrant who has lived in America for 12 years. Then he started to annoy me.
Definitely an unreliable narrator.
Though I found myself avoiding the book, I persevered for over 100 pages before I called it quits.
Jeremiah was a bull...
At first I enjoyed the unique voice of Jeremiah Brown, a young Scottish immigrant who has lived in America for 12 years. Then he started to annoy me.
Definitely an unreliable narrator.
Though I found myself avoiding the book, I persevered for over 100 pages before I called it quits.
Jeremiah was a bull...
August 28, 2008
Started it two days ago, still in the first part. A pleasure in the literacy & fluency of the voice. Unusually tight for the Kelman I know (older stuff, _A Disaffection_ and _Greyhound for Breakfast_), no wandering around waiting for a problem to drift out into a world viewed from an inch away from its skin. Characters are right on but the voices of Americans are, as in so much Brit stuff, not quite right.
Writing's more lucid than in other Kelman books, don't have to clamber over the words as much; in some regards that's a pleasure, in others a mild disappontment. Normally you can drown getting from one side of a Kelman novel to the other, and about 50 pages in that's the sense I have here. Fine by me, though I still think his best form's the short story.
James Meek has a lovely vindication of Kelman's work in a recent LRB. Wouldn't have thought it necessary but apparently it is.
Writing's more lucid than in other Kelman books, don't have to clamber over the words as much; in some regards that's a pleasure, in others a mild disappontment. Normally you can drown getting from one side of a Kelman novel to the other, and about 50 pages in that's the sense I have here. Fine by me, though I still think his best form's the short story.
James Meek has a lovely vindication of Kelman's work in a recent LRB. Wouldn't have thought it necessary but apparently it is.
August 13, 2015
I actually think this was a great story, it was just too long. I found myself skipping page after page after page to reach the next major thing you needed to take in order to understand and enjoy the story. The character was well crafted, very real, and you get the epic sense that this is a person with a full life, not all of which was written down, which sadly is something a lot of books don't achieve. The stream of consciousness sort of narration was a great addition as well. But really, this could have been a much shorter book.
July 30, 2007
Kelman channels a drunk Scot wandering around a small middle American town, reminiscing on his broken relationship (marriage?) and stubborn refusal to go back where he came from. I don't see this as terribly anti-American -- the all-immigrant security team in the airport he worked at is a very American mix. The trouble he runs into with the native borns does not sour him on the job or the American experience, as evidenced by the last line, a tribute to Billy the Kid.
January 22, 2009
After reading Kieron Smith, Boy, I wanted to read more of Kelman's work. This book kept me turning pages for the first half. When he started talking more about his security job, it dragged, and I started skipping parts. Jeremiah's bad luck coupled with his moods contributed to lots of problems for him. So much is going on in his head at all times, this book is a map of his thoughts.
August 22, 2012
The best depiction of post-9/11 paranoia I've come across in fiction. See something, say something, indeed. It's got all the slangy Kelman trademarks -- wit, anger, profanity, demotic Glaswegian lingo -- wielded in the act of skewering the pretense that "security" is anything more than a wager and a shit job for some. The perfect book to read whilst sitting in an airport.
February 3, 2013
Seething, haunting, indicting, irrepressible, caustically comic. My favorite Scottish author gives us another indelible displaced protagonist, this time placing him in the States on a frigid South Dakotan night. Kelman makes me want to weep and rage and stretch out a hand all at once, and this is another challenging but remarkable novel by him that I will never quite forget.
May 24, 2013
I tried to read this book twice and I really wanted to like it. There's barely any dialog and it always ends up boring me. The first 200 pages are essentially the main character sitting in a couple bars and thinking to himself and providing backstory. I just couldn't get into it. I started skimming and then just gave up.
December 30, 2014
Found this quite easy to relate to having been a member of the aliengenae myself and now living in Scotland. The style was fine, making for an easy and relatively enjoyable read for me, but the plot didn't really go anywhere, perhaps purposefully reflecting its protagonist. After an engaging start, I was somewhat underwhelmed.
April 2, 2009
A marginalized from birth working man goes to the U.S and we get how it all goes shit shaped through a pissed up internal dialogue....Brilliant, hes on his own is kelman when it comes to wording the lower classes mindset.
October 26, 2010
If you like getting stuck next to drunken guys who can't understand why they keep messing up their life but are pretty sure it's everyone else's fault, you might like this book. As for me, I got to page 129, saw there were another 300 or so to go and well, life's too short.
December 14, 2013
Sorry guys, started this eagerly but after 220 pages I just had had enough. Not exactly a book you can read in chunks of 15 minutes at a time, I just was too impatient. Good idea but not for right now, maybe when I've less on :)
January 30, 2008
a novel i had never heard of by one of my all-time favorite authors. SUPER AWESOME! i'm only 60 pages in so far.
March 16, 2025
I read this shortly after returning from a couple months work in Canada and really empathised with the characters dis-engagement with his life there.
Want to Read
June 22, 20101st edition US, signed by author; also own Uncorrected Proof
September 2, 2012
I couldn't get past the language in this book. I know I should have hung in there... but I just couldn't get past that language barrier!
May 25, 2013
I loathe James Kelman! This book was bought by my partner but I thought I'd give it a try. So so tiresome to write a novel totally in Scots dialect....
December 4, 2013
I registered a book at BookCrossing.com!
http://www.BookCrossing.com/journal/12362313
http://www.BookCrossing.com/journal/12362313
Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews