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“Adults tease him better, almost a form of kindness. The boys just rip and rip at each other, endless patterns of attack and response, like flirting’s grim twin.��

Shy is one of the teens at the Last Chance School, where staff and teachers are no doubt trying their best with a difficult cohort of students. A news report describes it.

“[The camera pans across the lawn.]
‘An ordinary bunch of teenagers kicking a ball about or some of the most disturbed and violent young offenders in the country? Here at the unconventional Last Chance school, it’s reiterated time and time again: they can be both.����

It’s one of those books, like Lanny, that is better to read as hard copy or in a PDF format, so you can see the line breaks, the italics, the font size, and the changing spacing. When people shout at him, they REALLY SHOUT in a large typeface that runs across two open pages.

Following Shy’s mental wanderings is something that I just let happen, rather than try to figure out details. He thinks of what’s happening right now and then goes back to a phrase from a past conversation that pops into his head.

I think it’s an excellent rendition of what it feels like living with Shy’s night terrors and the bullying that he tries to escape by listening to heavy music with his earphones on, drowning out the unwanted noise. When he retaliates, it’s by destroying anything within range.

The boys talk to therapists and gradually learn a bit about each other.

“They each carry a private inner register of who is genuinely not OK, who is liable to go psycho, who is hard, who is a pussy, who is actually alright, and friendship seeps into the gaps of these false registers in unexpected ways, just as hatred does, just as terrible loneliness does.��

Shy finds talking really hard.

“He threw his chair back and stormed out of a session with Jenny.
He got as far as the foot of the big staircase and he turned around, back along the corridor, and stormed in again.
Stop pretending you know me! You only know what I tell you.
OK, Shy, said Jenny.
It’s not OK, said Shy.��

We meet him in the middle of the night with a backpack full of flints, headed out across the paddocks around this big heritage-listed building in the country. As he’s walking, old conversations pop into his head along with his own thoughts.

“The other teaching staff and I feel you’re taking up more than your fair share of space at the moment. A lot of our attention. Just dial things down a bit, please.��

The turmoil of his thoughts and his genuine remorse about some (not all) of the things he’s done are touching. I have so much time for the adults who try to help these troubled and troublesome kids navigate adolescence.

Substance abuse doesn’t come into it, and it’s just as well. Shy’s dreams, nightmares, and memories of fights and bullying are more than enough. Music is his escape. In his mind, he describes what he’s hearing, and I’ll share a little.

“He can hear it, precisely, in his head, the way an Amen break washes like a wave, slots inside itself again and again, fits inside his heart, his favourite thing when it drops down to half speed, slouching, swagger, weapons close to its chest, and then it jumps up, exploding crisp and juicy, [much more]
. . .
Obviously he never says any of this to Shaun, or Benny, he just says Hardcore. Nice. Yeah. F**king love this tune.��

I loved this. It’s a short read, and I just let it wash over me. I admit to having a soft spot for boys who are struggling to grow up, whether it's due to mental problems, or poverty and abusive childhoods. Shy joins my group with countless others, including recent additions Lanny, Shuggie Bain, and Young Mungo..

I’d love to see inside Max Porter’s mind! Thanks to NetGalley and Faber and Faber for the copy for review from which I’ve quoted.