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Reader Reviews | |
Review by Dave Lett (181009) Rating (9/10) Review
by Dave Lett The opening sequence juxtaposes mania and 'normality'. Neil descends into madness, literally 'headbanging' with a mirror in his bedroom, while his parents watch the BBC comedy show 'The Two Ronnies'. For all the paranoia and hedonism, Neil isn't really any kind of party animal. He plays in a rock band, but only occasionally. He is an office drone. Like many people, he has missed opportunities. His existence is ordinary. "I had colleagues who were hoovering as much drink and drugs as myself, indulging in as many one-night stands. That fine line between mental health and ill-health was governed by minute chemical imbalances in the brain, not tallies of pints". Particularly effective are the scenes where Neil is succumbing to insomnia. His fantasies take him to imaginary parallel worlds. He visualises gang fights in post-war Glasgow, the Spanish Civil War's 'Red Terror',and Nuremberg rallies. In another occasion we are plunged into the ultra-violence of medieval warfare. An artillery strike is rivetingly described: "Heads were pulped into purple fragments. The man furthest in front, a towering redhead, was cleft in two. For a second his legs remained, supporting a ragged ball of pelvic bone and innards, like some nightmarish tree".
As he becomes more paranoid, the intensity of the first-person
narrative increases, taking us right into the eye of the mental
meltdown. The way the story unfolded reminded me of Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut. Key events become triggers for flashbacks. Although Armstrong's illness is at the core, the narrative is multi-layered, taking us to equally traumatic scenes elsewhere in his life: if his health could be imagined like a cardiograph, his bipolar breakdown marks one obvious trough. But there are many others; some even deeper. Fleming uses the device of short, concise chapters, headed-up with their dates, then shuffles these. Instead of any linear progression we do get more of a Slaughterhouse 5 scenario, where everything connects, to a greater or lesser extent. This gives a sense of empathy for the protagonist as we get to know formative events; what drives him. So there are vivid descriptions of his first experience of being drunk, an episode of sexual abuse as a child, his dabbling with cannabis then stronger drugs, immersion in the violent and chaotic world of Britain's punk rock scene in the 1970s, promiscuity in Edinburgh night clubs. There is much humour in Fleming's story, but within a page-turn the self-deprecation can twist into despair. This mirrors the unpredictable swings and roundabouts of bipolar illness.
Published by Chipmunka, who specialise in work by people who live
with mental health issues, BrainBomb is hugely entertaining, and
finishes on a positive note. But as Fleming frequently points
out, mental illness remains stigmatized. |
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