Hi all
Twenty Issues and many more to come! Two great friends of McAllister’s Mates with subtle, delicate, and very human stories tackling class systems and the tragedy of thwarted dreams and ambitions - my good friends and .
These reviews are part of Reviewstack run by the great writer and pillar of the Substack Community :
An ongoing series of reviews of some of the wonderful articles, poems, and stories I’ve discovered on Substack (and other places) and more importantly the beautiful souls behind the works.
Please take a few moments to read the works of these authors and if you find their work as life-affirming and life changing as I do, then please let them know. We need to support and cherish these voices.
You can meet some of my other friends in the previous instalments: 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
If you want to keep me in caffeine (and keep the ghostly voices whispering for the poetry side of things) - consider clicking below. For any who do so, you have my deepest gratitude.
Mkwawa’s work continues to fascinate me - probably because he’s good at everything I’m awful at. Tight dialogues between quickly sketched, yet fully fleshed out characters. Intimate conversations that pull abstract philosophical concepts into immediate reality and everyday life. Even-handed political observations that avoid sloganeering and juvenile takes on complex problems.
Like his previous story “The Moon Base Commander’s Dilemma” which I also greatly enjoyed, this one - while in a different setting and perhaps even more intimate - is marked with his same light but distinctive fingerprints and gentle, yet sharply observant prose.
The story opens with the author having a conversation with Ben, about Ben’s younger brother and his education during a football match. The ordinary, grounded setting and lack of exposition allow the story to move straight to the central debate.
Ben’s brother is about to sit his final primary exams to earn a place in secondary school. The author immediately wishes him good luck in the test. Ben responds that it would be better if he failed. This may seem shocking but the heart-breaking reality is that the school fees would be more than his family could afford as he rises higher in academia, the problem will only get worse until he reaches the point where he just can’t continue his education. Ben sees it as less cruel for his brother’s dreams to end now and to settle into a job than to face the harsh reality after years of effort. It’s a terrible choice that we in the comfortable west would do well to ponder. The author then quietly debates the honour and value to the community that jobs such as a bus driver or farming have - and indeed they do. But what of the wasted potential of a brilliant mind…
I normally avoid giving plot details in fictional works, but the real star of this piece is
Mkwawa’s elegant prose. I have deliberately held back from using direct quotations as you really must experience his words for yourself. While not a poem as such, this story is certainly poetic in both its concept and execution, there is a beautiful cadence to the dialogue and a melancholy wistfulness. Where many lesser authors would aim for clever, spiky dialogue or bluntly hammering home a point - Mkwawa chooses thoughtful reflection.
Mulling the story gave me pause for thought on how the sorry state of modern western politics is perhaps driven by class systems. How many brilliant, empathetic, truly courageous leaders have we been denied simply because their accent doesn’t fit or their parents couldn’t afford the most expensive schools? Questions like these are implied, and the story may indeed raise very different ones on your mind. I say again, Mkwawa is a subtle and elegant writer and gives you the space and respect to draw your own conclusions.
While I’ve spoken about how the story possibly works as a poem - I really think this would work beautifully on the stage. I don’t know how these things work or what doors to work on but I think Mkwawa is a natural playwright and I think he could have a glittering career in this field. Maybe these stories could become YouTube short films or even podcast radio plays? Please read and support Mkwawa, and writers like him - the sea of Netflix garbage only gets wider and shallower. If anyone reading has voice work or acting ambitions.. Maybe something could happen there? I really feel this man’s work was born for the stage, maybe the screen too.
This story hits the ground running quite literally. We’re bombarded with images of a man grappling with hot, gurgling pipe-works. The boiling steam of rebellious machinery resisting the calloused sweating hands of a diligent mechanic. If you’re a film buff, it’s somewhat reminiscent of how acclaimed director Michael Mann likes to introduce his blue collar heroes. Tight, visceral, and immediate. We’re dropped right into the scene without any exposition, what we are given is urgency and intensity. We’re not doled out information, we are hit by immediate understanding.
Our protagonist is introduced as “Brewer” during a conversation with his colleague “Farmer Sam”. This is a somewhat depersonalised world whose inhabitants are reduced to their mere function in the primitive yet forever growling machinery. They discuss their many problems with the beer making process for the Abbey. The dialogue perfectly captures how bawdy, gruff, no nonsense labouring men are reduced to quivering children at the mere mention of the abbot. The Abbey stalks the thoughts of the villagers promising both salvation and retribution dependent on their actions, perhaps even their very thoughts! The men carefully police their actions and their very thoughts, biting down rightful anger and instinctive resentment against their unfair lot. The much greater fear of the supernatural dampening the dullest spark of rebellious thought.
A summons to the dreaded abbey gives one of the story’s strongest passages, an impressionist description of a journey throughout the village and the building’s strange and frightening interior. The village is drenched in an air of misery and fear, a climbing road of squat decaying buildings leading to the Abbey, an edifice of ostentatious power. Victor then gives us an in-character train of thought on a completely alien environment. We feel Brewer’s awe and fear at his magnificent surroundings, with purposefully vague descriptions where words fail him cranking up the wonder and tension. Of course the abbot himself is a suitably elegant and dangerous presence, devious intent dressed in outward piety. Our poor Brewer is dragged into webs of intrigue beyond his understanding, but you’ll have to read about that for yourself.
The story paints a finely detailed portrait of a traditional Victorian era village. The grinding toil of constant servitude by peasantry denied their dignity and individuality. A world painted in dull browns of drudgery and burning white lights of ecclesiastical judgement. The text also creates a rich soundscape where the harsh rattles and bangs of industrial machinery become almost soothing and companionable. Contrasting against sweet ethereal Gregorian chants carrying veiled threats and watchful menace.
Of course not everything is as it seems and many important secrets of this world are revealed. This is of course just the start of what promises to be a tense and fantastical story and one that I’m very excited about.
I hope you enjoy these beautiful works as much as I enjoyed reading them and writing about them.
You can meet some of my other friends in the previous instalments: 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Substack has proven to be a treasure trove and I already have a few more gifted writers lined up for my next review newsletter.
Subscribe to Claim your FREE book of Poetry and art Hypnos Hermes - an epic poem presented as a medieval manuscript. A fantastical story written in verse enriched by many colourful and vibrant artworks.
If you want to keep me in caffeine (and keep the ghostly voices whispering for the poetry side of things) - consider clicking below. For any who do so, you have my deepest gratitude.