REVIEW: AYE OK

A book of inspired poetry that shares so many nuanced tales that fondly remind me of my own childhood

A few months ago I was scrolling through Twitter when I seen a tweet from Speculative Books promoting the upcoming release of a book of poetry called Aye ok by Charles Lang. I didn’t know that it was THE Charles Lang, from Castlemilk. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Charles as he’s currently studying at the Seamus Heaney Centre in Queen’s University Belfast. A fuckin’ PHD! I knew had an MA in English Literature from Edinburgh University and an MA in Poetry but I had no idea he was publishing a book of original material.

The news that he was releasing a collection of his poetry was very exciting. As soon as I read this, I went online and pre-ordered the book and waited on it’s delivery with great anticipation.

Charles is a good friend of mine. He’s much younger than I am but infinitely more intelligent. He’s instantly likeable and his warmth is infectious. He’s one of the few people that have politely accepted our invitation to a vegan dinner at our house. Just one of life’s good guys.

Now, I’m not a massive reader. I do read books, just not as much as I’d like to. I’ve found it easier to download a book on to my phone and read it at intervals in my day. However, nothing beats the feeling of having a physical book in your hand and losing yourself in it for a while. I spend most of my reading time deep in magic books or researching ideas online. But I was making time to read this.

The book arrived wrapped in a little one-page newsletter, the main feature of which was Aye ok itself. It’s a neat little pocket-sized paperback book. Like Charles himself, it’s very unassuming. It’s striking red cover is a door to a world all too familiar to those that grew up in a housing estate, or scheme. I found a quiet corner of the house and read it straight away, front cover to back cover.

It was fuckin’ amazing!

For me, it brought back so many vivid memories of my childhood. At times I was able to close my eyes and see old friends, old neighbours, old teachers. I could almost smell Woor Ping chips and the carpet in Gifto. I could hear the crumbling of Mitchell Hill Flats as it echoed in the Cathkin Braes. I could taste the sugary red jacket of a candy apple. I could feel the sunburn on the back of my neck from being out playing Catchy all day during the summer holidays.

In 46 short pages, I was taken through a journey of my own childhood ,and parts of my adulthood, and all the emotions that came with it. I laughed so hard at bits and I could relate to nearly every line. It’s littered with humour and irony. It’s nostalgic and written from lived experiences that feel real. He cleverly uses Glaswegian language that gives writings texture. The style and structure is not linear; each poem feels unique, like it has it’s own identity.

The book opens with ‘Mitchell Hill Flats’, the iconic multi-story flats that for decades were symbolic of the Castlemilk. The poem captures their history, both in culture and the community. It’s short and snappy, much like the “two bangs” that brought them down.

“Well that’s it… aw oor memories, a wummin said”

“An Education” instantly reminded me of starting high school and having teachers correcting words from colloquialism to ‘proper English’ and the dynamic of the classroom hierarchy of bullies and teacher’s pets.

“The Shopkeeper” is a beautiful reminder of the importance of cross culture and inter-generational relationships within working class communities.

“N when I got sent tae the shop

wae a note fae ma mammy

I never hud tae give him any money.”

“Morning Commute” is the first little tongue in cheek jab at people who find affirmation in the horoscopes of the free Metro newspaper.

“Go Kart” will instantly take you back to being a wee guy and remind you of your total disregard for health and safety. If you found you own weans doing this…

“We took the wheels

aff the wheelie bins

n hammered thum oan

tae a broken door”

“Candy Apples” and “24˚” perfectly capture the scheme summer holidays, much of which has been lost to PlayStations and SnapChat. “Saturday Morning” feels like a very fair tribute to Saturday grass roots football and conjured up real cherished memories of being young and playing for my local team and my pals. Poachers, greedy bastards and hacking bastards. Everything. Even a subtle nod to the boy that just looks the part.

“Glory-hunting bastard. He just stawns there idle, an imitation

ae his favourite player, wae his spikey hair n the latest Total 90s”

“Careers Service” very cleverly expressed the formulaic approach from careers advisors in school with humorous quotes. Does anyone actually remember their career advisor? They’re always really unmemorable and easily forgettable people but all similar in character.

“New Job” has something Burnistoun about it and “Visitors” could be turned into a postcard.

“An Old Woman” changes the tone of the book. It’s about seeing people you love grow old and the fragility of life. It’s sad on the face of it but very uplifting in it’s message.

“She’ll huv grandweans and a tidy hoose,

n cups a tea wae custard creams.”

“Early Finish” is a very short but very punchy tale of the life on a building site and despite the irregular hours, remains hopeful and upbeat, while “The Aftermath” captures the scenes in Glasgow George Square in the hours after the result of the 2014 Independence Referendum and the irony of our city’s slogan.

“Power Cut” is very relatable with Castlemilk often being victim of a power surge. Folk used to joke that it was all the ‘grows’ harboured in lofts and spare bedrooms that would cause it.

The defiant tone of “Granny” reflects the mood of the nation, reluctant to give in to the isolation, and opens with the line

“Yer response to the lockdown is will I fuck

stiy in the hoose fur that long I’ll be deid

by the time I get oot…”

“The Semi Final” tells the story of the supporters bus on the way to Hampden and describes characters that everyone will be all to familiar with.

“Bon Voyage” is a humorous take on the the airport and travel experience as a teenager, including the formalities of duty free and Starbuck. “Holiday Romance” follows in a similar fashion with a very funny short about Tinder.

“G45” for me, is peak nostalgia. If you’re from Castlemilk this will put a smile on your face and bring back so many memories and maybe make you want to look out your Berghaus jacket and grab a 3L and head for the shops. It perfectly describes a community in a warm and heartfelt way, yet highlights all it’s faults, even if they are endearing qualities.

“Wan big community.

we dae oor best, under the circumstances”

“Clairvoyant” is one of may favourite poems in the book. I literally pished myself from start to finish and then re-read it again and again, pished myself. It could be Limmy’s finest work but it isn’t. It’s a real genius bit of writing and a fair punch in the kidneys of the so-called “psychic mediums” at a house party.

“The last hing I wanted wis tae waste ma last £30

fur a doollaly bastard to tell me ma granny was whisperin

nice we hings in his ear.”

It’s a hilariously visual piece or writing and one I’m sure you’ll love as well.

The penultimate poem is called “Train to Dresden”, is another short piece but tells the whole story in just 5 short stanzas. A woman on a train in Germany, speaking to you in German and you’ve no idea what she’s saying. It reminded me of a chat I had on a train with a woman on my way to perform a private show in Gstaad in Switzerland a few years ago and the beautiful train journey through the Swiss countryside when the train broke down over what looked like a bridge built by nursery children from matchsticks and Pritstick. She started talking to me in French and the only word I understood was ‘merde”

The book ends with a beautiful poem titled “Tomorrow”, a little nod to the morning madness and closes with one of my favourite Scottish sayings;

“The full shebang.'“

Overall, Aye ok is just brilliant. It’s witty and humorous. It’s deep in some parts and highly emotive. It’s self deprecating and, at times, turns a mirror on yourself. It serves as a reminder to folk like myself that no longer live in the place, of all the little things that make it a unique and special place. It feels like its been written by an experienced writer; it doesn’t read like a debut but like a veteran, reminding the new guns how it should be done.

I won’t be surprised if this wins awards or get recognition internationally.

The first run, I believe, is sold out, which is just a phenomenal achievement. I cannot recommend this book enough, especially if you live in, grew up in or have had any experience in Castlemilk.

As I closed the book after the first read through I got a wee bit emotional, but also a feeling of immense pride in Charles for what he’s given the world with this work. It’s relatable in such a way that it felt like it was written for me. I think you’ll feel the same too. It’ll sit proudly among my most treasured books in my library at home.

Buy it, read it and enjoy it.

Charles, well done pal. A truly wonderful and fuckin’ marvellous addition to Scottish literature.

R x

You can find out more info here: https://www.speculativebooks.net/shop/aye