Shortlisted for BBC National Short Story Award 2010
McGregor’s protagonist is a man who lives on his own in a little riverside house, and does nothing much more than watch the fisherman on the opposite bank and the boats that sometimes go past, and work on his raft and treehouse, the latter being his preparations for the unceasing rain and torrential floods that he believes are coming.
McGregor sketches in the history of this man very subtly. Reading between the lines, we discover that he was a police officer at the Hillsborough disaster, who subsequently left the force because of the psychological trauma, and no longer lives with his wife and children.
This almost stream-of-consciousness style of delivery gives a sense of intense preoccupation with whatever the man is thinking about at the time, be it past, present, or future; but there’s also a sense of inertia at times — he thinks about what accidents might befall the people out there on the boats, but can’t really see himself doing anything to help if one occurred.
This sense extends to the coming floods: on the one hand, the protagonist has asked the anonymous narrator to tell us these important things; on the other, he imagines that no one will listen, and he’ll only save himself, and his children if he sees them. The parallel McGregor makes between the rains and Hillsborough is effective ; and the whole story a superb portrait of a man deeply scarred by the past, holding on to some hope for the future.
Shortlisted for BBC National Short Story Award 2010
McGregor’s protagonist is a man who lives on his own in a little riverside house, and does nothing much more than watch the fisherman on the opposite bank and the boats that sometimes go past, and work on his raft and treehouse, the latter being his preparations for the unceasing rain and torrential floods that he believes are coming.
McGregor sketches in the history of this man very subtly. Reading between the lines, we discover that he was a police officer at the Hillsborough disaster, who subsequently left the force because of the psychological trauma, and no longer lives with his wife and children.
This almost stream-of-consciousness style of delivery gives a sense of intense preoccupation with whatever the man is thinking about at the time, be it past, present, or future; but there’s also a sense of inertia at times — he thinks about what accidents might befall the people out there on the boats, but can’t really see himself doing anything to help if one occurred.
This sense extends to the coming floods: on the one hand, the protagonist has asked the anonymous narrator to tell us these important things; on the other, he imagines that no one will listen, and he’ll only save himself, and his children if he sees them. The parallel McGregor makes between the rains and Hillsborough is effective ; and the whole story a superb portrait of a man deeply scarred by the past, holding on to some hope for the future.