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Scraper James Gilberd1
 
Scraper James Gilberd2
Part I – Going UndergroundHeroes
One word echoing through the subway:
cake
?
Kite
? Then picking it’s Chaz by hisshaven head, his towtruck build. Not a clue what he’s on about but he’s got this kidfrom my old school, holding him by the throat against the tiled wall, feet off the ground.I hate bullies. Nobody else about so I’ll have to do something.‘You fucking little
kike
…’Five metres and closing, Chaz hasn’t spotted me yet. Smack! It used to work onthe rugby field—I’m big enough to take most people out—but this bastard doesn’t givean inch. Might as well have run into the bloody wall, but at least he’s let the kid go.Chaz glares at me, cold green eyes sizing me up. ‘Playing the hero Bryant?’Sickly yellow fluoros gleam off his skull as the brain inside it generates the thought of smacking me over. In the silence of the railway station subway I can just about hear thecogs turning. ‘Know what happens to heroes?’I tense my stomach muscles, brace myself for the inevitable. I’ve seen him fightat school; wind you, smack you to the ground then kick the snot out of you. Butnothing. Yet. Waiting for my next move? I risk taking my eyes off Chaz to look at thekid. ‘You OK?’‘Yeah. Thanks.’ His voice shakes. His size is deceptive; he’s my age or a year older.Lucky it’s only Chaz’s laughter that surprises me. ‘Think I’ll leave you twofaggots to play with each other’s dicks.’ With which he heads off down the subway in arolling stride exaggerated by his huge cherry-red Doc Martens.
 
Scraper James Gilberd3
Rubbing shoulder, catching breath, waiting for Chaz to disappear. ‘Haven’t seenhim for months, since school in fact. Thought the bastard would be in jail by now.’‘He’s not so tough without all his Bootboy mates around.’‘Bootboys?’ Resting on the sound of it. ‘How many?’‘Dunno. Half a dozen? There’s this giant one, Runt, and one about my sizecalled Scrag. That little prick won’t leave me alone.’‘Well if I were you I wouldn’t hang round the railway station at night. If it’s notSkinheads it’s Rastas.’‘You were at my school. Steve, isn’t it?’‘Last time I checked. Steve Bryant. Second-year sixth.’Eric Moss introduces himself and offers me a handshake. His grip’s quitestrong, for a shrimp. ‘You were hard to miss back then, always in trouble.’‘I just don’t like authority, that’s all.’Eric nervously looks at his watch, says his train’s about to leave and he bolts for the platform, skinny little legs pumping. It’s my train too, so I lope after him. The guardwaves for us to hurry up. Then we’re on board the old electric unit, puffing, slumped onseats facing each other. Eric flings his feet up on my seat. Black basketball sneakerslike mine (though not falling apart); but above the ankle our clothing styles partcompany. The guard tells Eric to put his feet down and demands our tickets.Eric pulls a ten-trip. ‘Take two clicks off it please.’I look at him, dollar note in my hand. ‘You didn’t have to.’‘It’s the least I can do.’ He smiles and his face relaxes, like he’s alreadyforgotten about Chaz. ‘So what are you up to in town this time of night?’‘Been working for my dad, rewiring an old warehouse down the waterfront. Butwe had this big argument about the Springbok rugby tour so I didn’t fancy a lift home
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Paul Green

weird - I played in a hardcore punk bank in the 90's called Scraper! Now I'll have to read this! Our story is at myspace.com/scraperhardcore if its of any interest

reply11 / 12 / 2011
James Gilberd

Hey, no one has commented for ages. Come on, rip it to shreds.

reply04 / 26 / 2011
james-gilberd

Please feel free to comment on this novel, even if you think it's cr@p.

reply02 / 12 / 2010
james-gilberd

Hi Sean. Thanks for all that, and glad you enjoyed it. The chapter titles were retrofitted, so I had fun going through old records and trying to fit titles to the chapters in a relevant way. You seem to have to have a literary agent in order to get published these days. I hope to begin another novel soon with benefit from the experience of writing this one, and maybe it will be good enough to pub

reply11 / 14 / 2009
Seanfs

I really enjoyed and it was a really good read . I thought the end with the tour and the match was too real , exceptionally well written . I really enjoyed the character observations and there were people i distinctly recognised there . I was at that party after the Moleswoth st march ( I realise its fictionalised here ) In reall life the girl with the belleding head's name was Karen. I rememb

reply11 / 12 / 2009
james-gilberd

Hi Alistair. Thrilled that someone likes it! Thanks for your great feedback and helpful, insightful comments. This is the reason I put the novel up on the net. I agree with you, and in the process of getting down from 180,000 words (!) to 60,000, my Maori character (a kind of mentor to Steve) and the development of The Coopers (he went and flatted with them and a supernatural thread did indeed emerge) were lost. I left the Coopers in because I want to use them in the next novel :-). Interested to hear more comments and criticisms from readers. I have a pretty robust ego so be frank.

reply11 / 01 / 2009
AlistairC

Another thing that I thought was a turn-off : the Coopers theme. I think it either needs to be developed or scrapped. I appreciate their usefulness as a plot device at two crucial turns, a deux ex machina thing, but I don't find that it resonates with anything else in the book, so it becomes a plausibility problem. Unless you want an explicit supernatural theme, which would need a lot more development and would probably derail the whole thing. (I'm a fine one to talk. I'm struggling with a sort of vampire-spoof novel which ends up taking itself too seriously!) So : now I feel obliged to enumerate some of the thingsI like about the book! The two-voice first-person narrative. It bothered me a bit at first, but in the end it works well (for me), it's a very economical way of providing a bit of distance from the narrator and underlining his subjectivity, and of course provides plenty of poignant irony with the alternate boy/girl views of the world. In general : the relationships: friendships, love, parents... bluntly and sparingly described, almost naively, and absolutely unpatronising, no hindsight.Excellent. The question of "race": the good are viscerally anti-racist, but the only actual contact with "non-whites"is getting beaten up by Rastas... it's a period piece, but note-perfect. Likewise Eric's Jewishness.

reply11 / 01 / 2009
AlistairC

Hey I get to make the first comment! I loved the book, James! I spent Saturday night and Sunday morning reading it. Captures the period perfectly. Packs a fair wallop. I'm going to have a go at a bit of naive literary criticism. In the spirit of internet publishing, I feel that I owe you some feedback, and I hope you'll take it in the constructive spirit I intend. All the more so as an aspiring writer myself. I have so many reasons for liking it (having been around at the time, flirted with punk, involved in the demos etc) that I feel obliged to question its universality. On the whole I think it passes the test, with a couple of reservations. The chapter headings : I loved them. A real plus. But an in-joke, meaningless for anyone who doesn't know the music of the period. I'm sure you already know this, but I'm afraid they are self-indulgent, and probably a turn-off for most readers. (continues...)

reply11 / 01 / 2009
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