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Micka
Micka loves drawing and wants a pup, but with older brothers into violence and petty crime, and a mother who can’t read the notes his teacher sends home from school, neither he nor the pup stand much of a chance. Then a new boy, Laurie, starts at Micka's school. The two boys both have vivid imaginations, but Laurie's fantasies are of magic and revenge, and he soon pulls Micka into a dangerous game where the line between make-believe and real life -- and, ultimately, death -- is increasingly blurred. Written in direct, uncompromising yet compassionate prose, and with a breathtaking clarity of insight, Micka is an astonishingly assured debut -- and an unforgettable story. 'Micka feels like a book that wrote itself . . . Frances Kay is an accomplished story teller who has found her darkest tale' Anne Enright 'I read this at a single sitting. Once started it was impossible to put aside . . . Atomising and searing, MICKA is a remarkable first novel' Carlo Gébler
- GenresFiction
240 pages, Kindle Edition
First published June 17, 2010
47 people want to read
About the author
Frances Kay
35 books4 followersFrances Kay is a children’s playwright who was born in London and now lives in Ireland. She has worked with gypsies, prisoners and children in the U.K. and Ireland. She is married to musician Nico Brown. They have two daughters.
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
July 24, 2011
This was short, sharp, and bitter.
In Britain there have been three crimes since the end of WWII which have sunk into our national soul and stayed there, and no amount of scrubbing can get them out. In 1963-5 there were the Moors Murders (4 children and one 17 year old killed); on 13 March 1996 there was the Dunblane massacre (16 children plus one adult killed); and between those two, on 12 February 1993, there was the murder of James Bulger - one victim. If you’re not familiar with this case you might wonder why the murder of this one child – he was two years old – would fill us so full of sorrow. It was because the murderers were two ten year old boys, who became the youngest convicted murderers in British history. Well, we had had a child killing children before (Mary Bell) but this one was different. It was calculated. They went to a busy shopping mall, hung around and waited for a harassed mother with a toddler to appear, and when one did they tempted him out of the mall shop with shoplifted sweets and led him away while the mother was buying stuff at the counter. There are CCTV images of this little kid being led through the mall, both ten year olds holding a hand each, it looks completely normal, but these images burned themselves into every mother’s brain throughout the land, because they knew what happened next. The kids went on a 2 mile meandering walk and ended up on a railway line. The ten year olds tortured the two year old to death and left his body draped over the railway line, thinking that when the next train hit him it would look like an accident.
This little novel gives us narratives by two boys, one with a horrendous underclass violent family, the other much posher. Gradually they come together and gradually they form a plan, which is to kidnap a small child. So the outline of the story is the James Bulger case. Inside the outline, everything is different.
Do these first person 10 year old boy (okay, one is 11) narrative voices convince us? They better had, since that’s the entire novel. Well, I bought about 90% of it. There were times when I thought no 10 year old would say or think or write that particular sentence or have that particular turn of phrase. But what this novel did give to me, which I thought was a powerful insight, is that the crime the boys plan is, for them, a piece of magical theatre – the wild pagan kind of magic juju men do, involving violence and blood, not the jolly Harry Potter type involving wands. They are trying to get power over their miserable little lives. They are acting out a ritual which they think will help them. Their victim is a sad necessity, like a lamb or a goat people used to sacrifice. The victim has that kind of status. Difficult though it may be to conceptualise it, there’s no malice towards the victim at all.
As I say, this is emphatically not a retelling of the Bulger case. But it is a painful insight into how kids can turn to magical thinking and how that can lead to actions adults cannot understand at all.
In Britain there have been three crimes since the end of WWII which have sunk into our national soul and stayed there, and no amount of scrubbing can get them out. In 1963-5 there were the Moors Murders (4 children and one 17 year old killed); on 13 March 1996 there was the Dunblane massacre (16 children plus one adult killed); and between those two, on 12 February 1993, there was the murder of James Bulger - one victim. If you’re not familiar with this case you might wonder why the murder of this one child – he was two years old – would fill us so full of sorrow. It was because the murderers were two ten year old boys, who became the youngest convicted murderers in British history. Well, we had had a child killing children before (Mary Bell) but this one was different. It was calculated. They went to a busy shopping mall, hung around and waited for a harassed mother with a toddler to appear, and when one did they tempted him out of the mall shop with shoplifted sweets and led him away while the mother was buying stuff at the counter. There are CCTV images of this little kid being led through the mall, both ten year olds holding a hand each, it looks completely normal, but these images burned themselves into every mother’s brain throughout the land, because they knew what happened next. The kids went on a 2 mile meandering walk and ended up on a railway line. The ten year olds tortured the two year old to death and left his body draped over the railway line, thinking that when the next train hit him it would look like an accident.
This little novel gives us narratives by two boys, one with a horrendous underclass violent family, the other much posher. Gradually they come together and gradually they form a plan, which is to kidnap a small child. So the outline of the story is the James Bulger case. Inside the outline, everything is different.
Do these first person 10 year old boy (okay, one is 11) narrative voices convince us? They better had, since that’s the entire novel. Well, I bought about 90% of it. There were times when I thought no 10 year old would say or think or write that particular sentence or have that particular turn of phrase. But what this novel did give to me, which I thought was a powerful insight, is that the crime the boys plan is, for them, a piece of magical theatre – the wild pagan kind of magic juju men do, involving violence and blood, not the jolly Harry Potter type involving wands. They are trying to get power over their miserable little lives. They are acting out a ritual which they think will help them. Their victim is a sad necessity, like a lamb or a goat people used to sacrifice. The victim has that kind of status. Difficult though it may be to conceptualise it, there’s no malice towards the victim at all.
As I say, this is emphatically not a retelling of the Bulger case. But it is a painful insight into how kids can turn to magical thinking and how that can lead to actions adults cannot understand at all.
March 21, 2017
This debut novel by Frances Kay is about Micka Doyle, a young boy leading an extremely desolate existence of deprivation and neglect with his dysfunctional family -- an uncaring, barely literate (but well-meaning) mother, and his much older brothers Kevo and Lee. Kevo is too weak to stand up to the volatile Lee -- who is just back from a stint in prison and quick to fly off the handle in violent outbursts that are most often directed at the helpless Micka. In a deplorable scene, the young boy is sexually assaulted by Lee while Kevo turns a blind eye. At school Micka meets the new boy Laurie, the child of constantly warring parents who are in the throes of finalizing a separation. As neither parent would appear to express any real concern for his welfare, Laurie is in essence as lost and desperate as Micka -- even if his family background is a more affluent one than that of Micka's.
Laurie reads about aboriginal magic in an encyclopaedia and becomes obsessed with obtaining a "pointing bone" -- which will bestow on him powers of life and death over all other beings. To start the process, he kills a duck in the local park and takes from its carcass a bone to serve his purpose. Micka, who hates Lee and lives in perpetual dread of what his unstable brother might do to him, wants to believe Laurie when he claims that the power of the bone will allow him to kill Lee. Micka edges ever further into Laurie's dangerous world of rituals and retribution. Thus, the two boys are set on a path that will run its twisty course to the very end.
Although Frances Kay's novel is very readable with a compulsive story line and unusual characters, it is also unsparingly bleak. The utter realism with which she presents some incidents is often unsettling and makes for uneasy reading. Micka's inexpert handling of the puppy he sneaks into his home in the first chapter had me holding my breath as I waited for the inevitable to happen. As a confirmed animal lover, I have a great aversion to reading about cruelty inflicted on defenseless creatures -- although in Mikca's case it was blind ignorance that caused the dog's suffering. On a different level, the toilet habits of the old Romany woman had me staring in disbelief at that particular page, likewise Kevo's novel way of enlivening his new baby sister's feeding time.
Laurie reads about aboriginal magic in an encyclopaedia and becomes obsessed with obtaining a "pointing bone" -- which will bestow on him powers of life and death over all other beings. To start the process, he kills a duck in the local park and takes from its carcass a bone to serve his purpose. Micka, who hates Lee and lives in perpetual dread of what his unstable brother might do to him, wants to believe Laurie when he claims that the power of the bone will allow him to kill Lee. Micka edges ever further into Laurie's dangerous world of rituals and retribution. Thus, the two boys are set on a path that will run its twisty course to the very end.
Although Frances Kay's novel is very readable with a compulsive story line and unusual characters, it is also unsparingly bleak. The utter realism with which she presents some incidents is often unsettling and makes for uneasy reading. Micka's inexpert handling of the puppy he sneaks into his home in the first chapter had me holding my breath as I waited for the inevitable to happen. As a confirmed animal lover, I have a great aversion to reading about cruelty inflicted on defenseless creatures -- although in Mikca's case it was blind ignorance that caused the dog's suffering. On a different level, the toilet habits of the old Romany woman had me staring in disbelief at that particular page, likewise Kevo's novel way of enlivening his new baby sister's feeding time.
November 7, 2010
Disturbing - but still enjoyed it.
Who was guilty in the end?
Who was guilty in the end?
August 19, 2015
I picked up this book because it was in a box for £1. I wish I hadn't. I feel like people who say they've looked at child pornography and wish they could un-see what they have seen. There are scenes in this book that are beyond sick, and the thought that it is marketed as a 'Young Adult' book appals me. I can't think what it might do to a developing mind. If I say it is too awful for anyone many people will go and read it to prove me wrong. All I can say is that I wish I could un-read the bit that I read.
January 4, 2021
There are a lot of good things about this book but it’s not as dark or gritty as it thinks it is. There’s a definite feel of having been written by a middle class person trying to imagine a deprived, violent childhood, or a psychopathic (or sociopathic?) one. Although written in two first persons, the narrative could have been more fully inhabited; the details could have been more individual, sharper. I was expecting to be more discomfited, more disturbed than I was.
That said, it’s more than readable. Micka is a sympathetic and largely believable character. Some of his family members’ motivations are unclear, but it’s all shown from his point of view, so it’s easy to go along with it for the sake of the story. The plot wasn’t as predictable as I thought it was going to be. It was clear from the start, in a good way, that Micka and Laurie were a bad combination.
Not cosy, but not chilling. If you liked this then I would recommend Kelly Creighton’s The Bones of It, which does this kind of narrative better.
That said, it’s more than readable. Micka is a sympathetic and largely believable character. Some of his family members’ motivations are unclear, but it’s all shown from his point of view, so it’s easy to go along with it for the sake of the story. The plot wasn’t as predictable as I thought it was going to be. It was clear from the start, in a good way, that Micka and Laurie were a bad combination.
Not cosy, but not chilling. If you liked this then I would recommend Kelly Creighton’s The Bones of It, which does this kind of narrative better.
March 20, 2025
This book captures the kind of mysticism and dark curiosity of early adolescence through the lens of two boys with fractured childhoods.
The storyline was a page turner for me, and there was a looming sadness throughout. I'd say this book isn't for those who have strong negative reactions to childhood mistreatment and abuse.
I find it a hit or miss when I'm reading a book that uses the first-person perspective of a child. I found it worked for me in this story as the insight of the internal monolgues gave a unique perspective of the intricacies of childhood mental health.
The storyline was a page turner for me, and there was a looming sadness throughout. I'd say this book isn't for those who have strong negative reactions to childhood mistreatment and abuse.
I find it a hit or miss when I'm reading a book that uses the first-person perspective of a child. I found it worked for me in this story as the insight of the internal monolgues gave a unique perspective of the intricacies of childhood mental health.
September 29, 2013
Gut-wrenching
Don't expect to enjoy this exceptional book; read it to experience what disturbed youngsters think and feel, to understand what goes on in their heads and why they act as they do. Written with totally convincing, inside knowledge of two very different boys' lives and feelings, 'Micka' goes deep into experiences of child abuse and deprivation, from the viewpoints of the two boys. I worked with many 'difficult' kids during my years as a teacher and Frances Kay's ability to get inside the heads of two boys is painfully realistic. The language is hard and the detail is gruelling but there is never a word that strikes you as unnecessary or glamourising the violence. This in itself is a remarkable skill; to depict violence and sadism as sickening when we are surrounded by media glamourising gangsters and killing.
The morality of the book lies in its honesty and perhaps in the hope afforded by its ending but there is no preaching. Understanding is all. If more people read this book, fewer would come out with glib statements on locking up child criminals for life as being the solution. Given the role I've played in children's lives, I can't help wondering about what more the teachers could have done for Micka and Laurie, what more the social services could have done, what more the police could have done and what more the neighbours could have done but the author doesn't point these questions at the reader. If everyone read this story and discussed intervention in the lives of such children, it would enrich the decisions everyone reaches about 'the youth of today'. We need to talk about Micka and Laurie.
One criticism I would make of the marketing is that the book jacket adds to the impression that this could be a children's novel about a street-wise urchin. This is always a danger when the main characters are children but let's be clear that this is a strong, adult book dealing with child abuse. It speaks for abused children but I don't think they are the audience - we, the adults responsible for their world, are the ones for whom the novel is intended.
Don't expect to enjoy this exceptional book; read it to experience what disturbed youngsters think and feel, to understand what goes on in their heads and why they act as they do. Written with totally convincing, inside knowledge of two very different boys' lives and feelings, 'Micka' goes deep into experiences of child abuse and deprivation, from the viewpoints of the two boys. I worked with many 'difficult' kids during my years as a teacher and Frances Kay's ability to get inside the heads of two boys is painfully realistic. The language is hard and the detail is gruelling but there is never a word that strikes you as unnecessary or glamourising the violence. This in itself is a remarkable skill; to depict violence and sadism as sickening when we are surrounded by media glamourising gangsters and killing.
The morality of the book lies in its honesty and perhaps in the hope afforded by its ending but there is no preaching. Understanding is all. If more people read this book, fewer would come out with glib statements on locking up child criminals for life as being the solution. Given the role I've played in children's lives, I can't help wondering about what more the teachers could have done for Micka and Laurie, what more the social services could have done, what more the police could have done and what more the neighbours could have done but the author doesn't point these questions at the reader. If everyone read this story and discussed intervention in the lives of such children, it would enrich the decisions everyone reaches about 'the youth of today'. We need to talk about Micka and Laurie.
One criticism I would make of the marketing is that the book jacket adds to the impression that this could be a children's novel about a street-wise urchin. This is always a danger when the main characters are children but let's be clear that this is a strong, adult book dealing with child abuse. It speaks for abused children but I don't think they are the audience - we, the adults responsible for their world, are the ones for whom the novel is intended.
November 8, 2013
The story is told from the alternating first person points of view of two boys, Micka and Laurie. Micka wants a puppy, and Laurie conducts scientific experiments, one of which is an attempt to create a new type of tree by grafting a lemon seed to an apple seed. Neither boy is going to get what he wants. Though from different socioeconomic backgrounds, both are deprived, and that perhaps forms the basis of their association, which cannot really be described as a friendship.
This is a story that doesn't indulge in shallow sentiment. The voices of Micka and Laurie are authentic, the story and characters compelling. I read the book almost without stopping. The author really gets you inside the disturbed minds and hearts of these two boys. It's simply heart wrenching. The ending will shock and surprise you.
MICKA is an extraordinary novel, a stark and vivid depiction. If you read it, you won't be quite the same afterwards.
The world of these two boys is harsh and often brutal, and author Frances Kay pulls no punches. MICKA is the straight story.
This is a story that doesn't indulge in shallow sentiment. The voices of Micka and Laurie are authentic, the story and characters compelling. I read the book almost without stopping. The author really gets you inside the disturbed minds and hearts of these two boys. It's simply heart wrenching. The ending will shock and surprise you.
MICKA is an extraordinary novel, a stark and vivid depiction. If you read it, you won't be quite the same afterwards.
The world of these two boys is harsh and often brutal, and author Frances Kay pulls no punches. MICKA is the straight story.
March 5, 2014
Micka is the gritty portrayal of a doomed friendship between two very troubled young boys from very different backgrounds. Told in a first person dual narrative, from each boys’ point of view, the distinct voices of each protagonist, one from a rough housing estate, suffering violent and sexual abuse from a sadistic sibling, the other, from a much more affluent yet no less dysfunctional family, his parents going through a messy divorce, living with an unhinged mother, resentful of an ambitious, uncaring father.
The author has really captured the boys’ inner worlds, incorporating disturbing dream sequences and troubling excerpts from a journal full of violent fantasies.
As the story progresses, there is a real sense of impending doom, disaster, of dark clouds forming on the horizon, one which is deftly handled with a surprising (and I was thrown for a moment) yet very clever and powerful dénouement.
With echoes of both Mary Bell and the Jamie Bulger killers, Micka is a bold, uncomfortable read, yet one I highly recommend.
The author has really captured the boys’ inner worlds, incorporating disturbing dream sequences and troubling excerpts from a journal full of violent fantasies.
As the story progresses, there is a real sense of impending doom, disaster, of dark clouds forming on the horizon, one which is deftly handled with a surprising (and I was thrown for a moment) yet very clever and powerful dénouement.
With echoes of both Mary Bell and the Jamie Bulger killers, Micka is a bold, uncomfortable read, yet one I highly recommend.
January 9, 2012
Ugh. I don't really know if this was well-written or memorable as a work of fiction because I was too worried about what horrible event was coming on the next page to pay close attention. I think to another reader this would seem a poignant and moving story of the horrors of impoverished childhood in the UK, but I really was mostly repulsed by the story. That said, I did feel for the main character, Micka, a pathetic little guy who lives in the crappiest of homes and manages to remain somewhat innocent and so childlike despite the horrors his family and community subject him to. And the creepy best friend begins to take shape as a type of child that exists – although his parents seem too unbelievable and sketchy to make much sense of his end of the story.
If you can't stomach child abuse, skip this book. Read the newspaper instead.
If you can't stomach child abuse, skip this book. Read the newspaper instead.
November 13, 2014
Not a comforting reading, such a bleak book, but very well written taking the reader into the minds of the two young boys. Micka comes from a horrible, dysfunctional family, he is neglected and abused, the only persone who shows kindness is his teacher. Because of his background the reader understands how he becomes the man he is. Deeply distressing, but utterly convincing. The episode of the puppy is heart breaking. Laurie, Micka's friend from school, is a less lovable character. The story reminded me of Jamie Bulger, but much to my relief, the writer turned the story into a different direction.
December 23, 2012
The hopes and fears of ten year old Micka as he struggles against poverty, neglect and abuse, tumble from the page until you forget that you’re reading and simply listen as Micka tells you his poignant story.
Exceptional punchy prose and a hard hitting subject matter draw you further into a world that is both compelling and ultimately heartbreaking.
Anyone who cares about society, the future and the fragility of the child should read this.
Exceptional punchy prose and a hard hitting subject matter draw you further into a world that is both compelling and ultimately heartbreaking.
Anyone who cares about society, the future and the fragility of the child should read this.
June 6, 2011
Brutal, with pitch-perfect 10-year-old-boys, vulnerable and hard, cruel and kind, and wise beyond their years all at once. No flowers here - Frances Kay tells it like it is. Heartbreakingly inevitable ending.
Would recommend to anyone wanting a challenging book which will haunt you for days after the last page.
Would recommend to anyone wanting a challenging book which will haunt you for days after the last page.
February 25, 2012
Micka is a searing and powerful novel that remains with you long after you complete it. It's not an easy topic but Kay deals with it with expert hands and shows us a side of life we may never encounter but certainly need to care about.
September 30, 2012
Disturbing and I didn't want to continue after the first part. I was glad that I did and think I've gained some understanding of children who might be described as feral for whom normal family life doesn't exist.
August 10, 2012
real, deep and raw, reminds me of blood brothers
November 12, 2012
Disturbing and upsetting book yet well written. It's left me feeling sick that people actually go through issues like this.... I wouldn't want to read it again though!
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December 16, 2012disturbing, very well written
Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews