Down Yonderland by L.H.B.

‘Lines was inspired by Jim Jarmusch’s film Paterson,’ Imi says, ‘which observes the structured monotony of life, and how we squeeze joy from our passions at every liberating opportunity. The film offers a charmingly modest perception of this, but at the time it provoked some deepening frustrations at the limited prospects for myself and so many creatives. Margins explores the peak of these frustrations, offering a mocking account of my past constraints, but over time my thoughts on this have evolved. While my ambition for change hasn’t faltered, my perspective has matured in a way that is more accepting and is able to find happiness in the everyday. This is celebrated in I Feel Alright which was a real breakthrough for me personally. The Fence is the mediating balance between these two sides, and is essentially the decision you make to take control of your life and start taking responsibility for your own misfortunes or happiness.’

At only 21 and having experienced as many of the trials of life as it seems possible to have, Beth is in prison, due to committing a crime that the world and she believes can never be forgiven. She is, in her own words, 100% TM bad. And through self punishment and ingrained thoughts will never let that go.

But her counsellor, Erika, has hope. No one is all bad she believes. Through writing about the good things that she has, Beth is coaxed to realising that she is not evil, nothing is black and white, and the past is not the future. Snapshots of Beth’s life come through diary entries, letters, care reports, social worker summaries and first person narratives. We know that there has been a mum, and a baby. We learn about relationships, failed ones. There’s a few friendships that span both circumstantial and real.

But it’s fragmented, just like her past, and it’s this method of writing that turns a sad tale into a deep and emotional one. Detail of her breakdown are in fractured prose. Intense introspection in angry stream of consciousness. The memory drives the plot and the reader is with Beth as she confronts her actions and feels her emotions. We’re with her as she builds a life. Describing a childhood friendship, Beth writes ‘Being human doesn’t just mean connecting to other humans; it means connecting the human you are now with the ones you used to be.’

Female relationships play a key role in the story, and the way that Beth speaks of her unborn daughter as her team mate, ‘us’ is tender and heartening. This baby is the first person she has believed will never let her go. An unexpected pregnancy isn’t something that Beth can walk away from – unlike the father – and neither is it something that she wants to. Yet an unmarried mother with no money isn’t always welcomed.  ‘I feel that as a society we are far harsher on ‘bad’ women than ‘bad’ men; I suppose that was another motivation in writing a character like Beth.’

Beth’s history of the care system, therapy and prison all influence her personality. Clearly she is not 100% bad, but like everyone, a product of her experiences. Claire loved the experience of writing a messy character. ‘It was her difficulty and complexity which kept me writing. Most characters I write are outsiders or oddballs in some way.’  Whether you believe that they are oddballs, byproducts of a structurally damaging society, or something more sinister, it’s true that prisoners don’t usually get a voice. If writing fiction has any duties, this might be one. As Claire says  ‘For me, fiction is about taking the reader somewhere they’ve not been before. This might be a psychological place, it might be a culture or society they’ve not thought about. Writing about someone in prison allowed me to delve into all kinds of new places.’

On Clare’s website she lists books she’s loved and books that make her. Authors include Emma Unsworth, Sylvia Plath,  Kate Tempest and Zadie Smith.  With all of these writers, ‘it’s the voice which really grabs me – a voice which is unafraid to delve into all areas of life and which has a certain zest, or swagger. ‘ Beth is vulnerable and broken, but her strong voice keeps the momentum of the novel alive, even when her hope wains.

As well as her experience of working in secondary schools and its insight into the impact of family background, Clare spent a great deal of time researching prisons, the care system and trauma, and as well as speaking with researchers visited a women’s prison, ‘which was enormously eye-opening and helpful.’ It’s not an easy book to research and write, but Clare is lucky that her home city of Leeds scene is hugely supportive of writers and artists. ‘I can’t even imagine who I would be if I didn’t read or write; both activities have hugely improved my knack for listening and noticing and asking questions – all of which make for an enriched life.’ And a deep story. A story of hope.

‘You might think I’m retarded for hoping such a thing in the light, or rather the dark, of everything that’s happened.’ she writes. There’s always light and dark, always a past and a future, always action and inertia. There’s always people. There’s always life. It’s messy and chaotic and broken and confusing yet beautiful. Filled with bad things – but a lot of good.

Published in hardback by Viking on 1st June 2017, priced £12.99.

In the craft beer hub Brewhouse sophisticated electropop from New Zealand quartet Yumi Zouma has elements of rolling melodies, whilst jangle pop was there in all glory at arts studio Oval Space, with guaranteed good time Veronica Falls and Mollie Rankin’s from Toronto’s Alvvays  connective clamour.

Eleanor Friedberger persevered through a chatty crowd in the New Empowering Church, and playing with warm heart and soul endeared the crowd, as the delicate vocals of Swedish sweetheart Alice Boman had earlier.

The Laundry is certainly the heavy house, with the Cheetahs early set leaning to loud grunge rather than melodic shoegaze. It gets heavier for Leeds’ Eagulls, and shocktastic for Perfume Pussy. Andrew WK’s audience are there to party hard. Violent dancing, destroyed amplifiers, stage invasions and crowdsurfing, only ending as W.K’s microphone and piano were unplugged. Crazed carnage.

As frustrating as it us, when nearly all day major band clashes are on, it’s a sign of a stellar line-up is a good one. Whilst Perfume Genius played what I heard to be a deep, atmospheric and beautiful set Policia were haunting and slick as usual, there was the feeling that they may have been a bit weary after their string of festival performances.

Visions – I see a good future ahead.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qgeLb4QAC6M

John Linkins