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Gray is a bit of an enigma. One of the best British writers in these (post)modern times, but virtually unheard of, except for perhaps students of literature and even at, that those whose ambitions run further than London.
Gray is a lazy old so and so. It takes him God knows how long to get any output, though not very long to demand an advance from a publisher.
This usually results in Gray's output being somewhat cobbled to meet deadlines, and in some senses, a degree of his work such as this is re-hashed.
Whatever way he does it his stories are quality and, if you prefer short stories to full length novels, this should satisfy you. I like short story books because I can start one at night when I go to bed and finish it before I go to sleep.
Gray's work can be deep and sometimes accessible. His collections of short stories such as this one carries both. It is literary in places and short. sweet and charming in others.
His texts use typography and his own splendid line art to help tell the story, and this book, thankfully, includes these narrative devices.
You must try Alasdair Gray, even if just to snub it, at least you tried