The novel cure: Loss of face

Literary prescriptions for modern ailments

Ella Berthoud,Susan Elderkin,Bibliotherapists
Saturday 30 November 2013 01:00 GMT
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Ailment: Face, loss of

Cure: Pigeon English by Stephen Kelman

Is there anything worse than losing face, especially if you're a teen? To be scorned or mocked by one's peers is tantamount to being cast out from the group. In evolutionary terms, losing face can mean failure to survive.

When 11-year-old Harri Opoku comes to live in Peckham from Ghana, he enters a world in which pretty much anything he does is doomed to be wrong. His clothes are secondhand; and, knowing his Brixton market trainers won't cut the mustard, he draws Adidas stripes on them with a marker pen. It doesn't work. His classmates jeer at him, laugh at his trainers, and mimic his accent. "Do you have happiness?" they ask him. "Yes," he replies. "Do you have a penis?" they guffaw.

The family live on the ninth floor of an inner-city block, and Harri spends a lot of time talking to a pigeon. The "rat with wings" listens to his questions, and seems to understand his confusion.

When a boy from Harri's neighbourhood is knifed to death, his blood staining the stairwell of their estate and his trainers left hanging on the railings to tempt the circling, predatory boys, the pigeon gives Harri the confidence to find out what really happened. His detective work brings him terrifyingly close to boys with a killer attitude. His only salvation is his speed. Because Harri's trainers might not be the right brand, but he can still run faster than anyone else in year seven.

Harri's irresistible voice and his heartbreaking experiences show that worse things do happen in life than losing face. When the world shrinks to the size of your peer group and all you can think of is where you come in the pecking order, this novel will hoist you up and give you that broader perspective.

'The Novel Cure, An A-Z of Literary Remedies' (Canongate, £17.99); thenovelcure.com

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in