Young Mungo

“Apparently there could be some distance between what a person was saying and what you should be seeing. Jodie said he was gullible. Mo-Maw said she wished she had raised him to be cannier, less of anybody’s fool. It was a funny thing to be a disappointment because you were honest and assumed others might be too. The games people played made his head hurt.”

Mungo struggles to understand how people veil their intentions. His sister characterizes him as “gullible” and his entire family is worried about his naivete. This concern implies that there is something in the world that Mungo should fear, and that Mungo is at risk of putting himself in vulnerable situations because he lacks street smarts. There is irony in being “a disappointment because you were honest”—a quality praised in the Catholicism that surrounds Mungo so thoroughly that it is the source of his name is not reflected in the necessities of day to day life in East End.

“Mungo and his brother and sister called this slack version of her Tattie-bogle, like some heartless, shambling scarecrow. No matter how her children stuffed her with their love or tried to prop her up and gather her back together, she took in all their care and attention and felt as hollow as ever.”

In this quote, Stuart reveals the effects Mungo’s mother’s alcoholism has on the family. They call her drunk persona “Tattie-bogle”, a Scottish slang term for “scarecrow”, as a way of highlighting her emptiness. When intoxicated, she is scary on the outside, but hollow on the inside—an unflattering but honest description of a woman who loses her sense of self to an addiction that has hurt and endangered her children.

“His nose would begin to crinkle, and then he would blink as though someone was flicking the power switch in his brain. If he was especially anxious, or tired, it manifested as a tug or a twitch in his left cheek. He had taught her where to press to try and calm the electricity. It was nothing but a placebo. Jodie came to understand that he just liked to be touched.”

Mungo’s facial tic is an important part of his characterization. The twitching and subsequent picking of his skin is a physical manifestation of his anxiety and insecurity. Jodie can calm this tic because of her close bond with Mungo. What’s more, only Jodie knows that her method to calm him is not really effective physically but emotionally—a truth that goes counter to the accepted notion that Glaswegian men should not need such comforting. Stuart encourages his readers to view affection and physical contact as necessary to men as well as women.

“The mousy boy scattered the toolbox as he tried to reclaim his manhood. The others tittered and went about ransacking the place with a sense of relief. There was nothing more shameful than being a poofter; powerless, soft as a woman.”

Stuart emphasizes the pressure East End society places on boys to perform masculinity. The term “poofter” is a slur that implies effeminacy. In this Glaswegian neighborhood of poverty, insecurity, and sadness, women are perceived as weak and therefore not worthy of respect. Therefore, boys are pressured to fulfill stereotypical ideas of masculinity—embodying strength, dominance, and brutality— for fear of being seen as feminine. This quote highlights the arbitrariness of this insult; the other boys are relieved because they could so easily have been its targets—the word is used to humiliate, not to actually identify homosexuality.

“Of all the legends, he liked the one about the bird the best; how St Mungo had brought the little robin back to life after it had been killed by the cruel children. Jodie said that was his power, that after their father died, he gave life back to Mo-Maw when she had given up on it for herself. He loved Jodie. He forgave her when she lied to him.”

Mungo is named after the patron saint of Glasgow. This quote reveals the symbolic connection between the two. Saint Mungo was gentle with other living creatures and actively different than other kids who acted out of cruelty—qualities that Jodie’s lie that Mungo gave his mother life again echoes. This quote also reveals that Mungo understands the hidden and quiet dynamics of his family more than his family members might realize.

“There was something uncomplicated about him. As his eyes returned to the sky the smile never left his lips, and Mungo found himself staring. It seemed like this boy could not have spent a day on the same streets that Mungo knew, never needed any of its callous posturing, the self-protective swagger, the dirty promise of hitting first. There was nothing guarded or fearful about him.

Mungo’s new friend James is unlike other boys. James, like Mungo, has a gentle personality and is uninterested in performing masculinity. This new friendship foreshadows happiness and acceptance for Mungo, highlighting that there are many ways to be a male human, and that Mungo is not unnatural. James is almost beatific here—the smile that “never left his lips” is a bright symbol of peace and happiness in an otherwise turbulent neighborhood identified with strife, struggle, and pain. But the extended implication is that James is vulnerable because he expresses his feelings.

“Hamish was far from Glasgow and the glare of the Protestant boys who expected so much from him, and the rest of the scheme who expected so little. Here, Mungo could remember the boy Hamish had once been, mischievous and brave, full of impetuous ideas and never afraid of falling, so long as he could fly first. In this moment it was as if he had not yet soured. To see him carry on like a wean again was almost too much for Mungo to bear.”

Hamish is characterized as tough, violent, and even dangerous. But Hamish is also a victim of his society, someone who has had no choice but to internalize his community’s ideas about toxic masculinity and the power of brutality and fear. Here, Stuart reveals that Hamish has an inner life—at his core he is still capable of childishness, fun, affection, and freedom. This quote reveals what Hamish could have been, though his potential will never be unfulfilled thanks to the pressures and realities of his social milieu.

“James raised his arm out from under the weight and draped it across Mungo’s shoulders. It made Mungo flinch in anticipation of a blow, a flick, a chokehold. But as he waited for retaliation, it slowly dawned on him that no hurt was coming. Instead of rejecting him, James had made more space for him.”

This quote captures the shared vulnerability within James and Mungo’s friendship. Mungo is so accustomed to abuse that when James touches him, Mungo predicts James will hurt him. When James instead caresses him, this out of the norm action reveals that James accepts Mungo, and can show him what a healthy and requited affection looks like. No one besides James has actively “made more space” for Mungo, which implies that their connection is special.

“This one old man made them feel better. When everyone looked at them like they were nothing, like they had nothing, he still had less.”

The nonconformist and different Mr. Calhoun takes a brave stand against the heteronormativity of his society by not defending himself against accusations of homosexuality, and by neither fighting back nor running away. In his community, being different is dangerous. But in this quote, Stuart reveals that the real threat comes from Mr. Calhoun’s courage. Mr. Calhoun shows others that living authentically is possible. The poor residents of East End have internalized the low expectations the world has of them, valorizing gang life and extremely strict bounds on gender norms. Mr. Calhoun threatens the heteronormativity of his community, scaring others because of his frightening individualism.

“He wondered how it would feel to go home, now that he had seen more of the world in a single day than in fifteen years—how could he stay on the scheme and not try to go beyond it?”

Mungo’s exposure to the rural landscape of Scotland is a formative experience. It shows him that there is more to the world besides the industrial ugliness of his neighborhood. He realizes for the first time that the East End is just a small piece of the larger world. This challenges Mungo’s sense of self in a productive way; because he’s never known anything other than his home, he hasn’t thought about what it could mean to leave home. But this quote takes on a different connotation when Mungo is raped in the countryside. The isolation and unfamiliarity of the environment, which was at first sublime, now becomes the stuff of horror. Mungo matures out of desperation, returning home with trauma and a surer knowledge of his capabilities.

“Imagine all that fear and disappointment clogged up in there, and nobody stopped to ask him about it, to ask if he was happy in his life, if he was coping. None of the men could tell ye how they really felt, because if they did, they would weep, and this fuckin’ city is damp enough.”

In this quote, Mrs. Campbell pinpoints the source of frustration and abuse in her community. Though her husband physically abuses her, Mrs. Campbell excuses this as the result of his inability to express himself because his society forbids male vulnerability. She is right—Mr. Campbell has no other outlet for his feelings of uselessness besides victimizing his wife. This dynamic allows Stuart to warn readers about the dangers of not making space in society for male vulnerability.

“To Hamish, these Scots let themselves be minstrel dollies. Middle-class Glaswegians were the worst; they had no loyalty, when it suited them they draped the city about themselves like a trendy jacket, but they knew none of its chill, none of its need.”

This quote captures the differentiations in socio-economic class in Scotland in the 1980s. Middle-class Glaswegians had more flexibility in taking on and practicing different ideas; money gave them goals, a sense of future potential, and privileges. Hamish has deep resentment for this slice of Glasgow, hating their access to the socio-economic mobility that will forever be denied him.

“A fissure Mungo hadn’t known about cracked open in his chest; beneath it was a hollow feeling that had never bothered him before. It was an agony not to raise his own hand and touch the hairs James’s fingers had licked. It burned. He wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth left by his touch.”

Stuart reveals the depths of Mungo’s desire for James. The onrush of adolescent sexuality is so strong that Mungo can only express it with imagery of injury, such as his chest cracking open, burned fingers, and agony. Without positive role models of homosexual relationships, Mungo feels his attraction as physically painful, which makes sense since this is an acute bodily response that he’s been trying to repress. Despite the warmth of their connection, Mungo can’t help but feel internalized shame about his sexuality.

“They had wandered from timid tenderness to affection wrapped in insults. It was a lovely place for two boys to be: honest, exciting, immature.”

Stuart emphasizes the beauty of young love. Despite the societal issues James and Mungo face, there is joy and freedom in their relationship. When James and Mungo are alone together, they can enjoy themselves and explore each other with honesty, excitement, and support. Their love teaches them how to be themselves and frees them from outward pressures and sadness.

“Mungo lunged at him then and cracked his fist off his chest. He dared him to strike back. Violence always preceded affection; Mungo didn’t know any other way.”

Mungo has never known what physical affection between men looks like—even when Hamish is being an ally, his brotherly feelings are expressed through violence and aggression. Accepting violence as a form of love is a survival tactic; in a world of abuse, victims need to believe that violence expresses love or to accept the lack of love in their lives.

“Everything about this boy was about his mother. He lived for her in a way that she had never lived for him. It was as though Mo-Maw was a puppeteer, and she had the tangled, knotted strings of him in her hands.”

Mungo’s identity is inseparable from his mother. Through Jodie’s perspective, Stuart analyzes how Mo-Maw shackles Mungo. Mungo’s loyalty to his mother is born from his desire to be loved. Mungo is easily controlled by his mother, which makes him incapable of dreaming of his own future and setting up his own goals. The lack of love he receives from her makes him only work harder—a nasty cycle of emotional abuse. 

“It should have withered years ago, like hers had, like Hamish’s had. Yet Mungo had all this love to give and it lay about him like ripened fruit and nobody bothered to gather it up.”

In this quote, Stuart uses the simile of a ripened fruit to highlight how Mungo’s best characteristic, his capacity for love, is fragile and easily destroyed. Mungo’s inner life has produced the emotionally healthy and correct fruit—the capacity to love another. Yet no one wants the love he has to give—until James comes along, the sweetness Mungo has to offer rots unused like uncollected fruit.

“It stopped Mungo in his tracks. He held his breath as the deer raised its head and looked in their direction. Its eyes were as dark and wet as two peeled plums. The deer flicked its ears, scanning the forest for any unfamiliar sounds. On its head was a small set of underdeveloped antlers, and it made Mungo wonder where the deer’s mother was.”

Mungo is struck by his encounter with a young deer. The deer is an analog of Mungo—a young male lost and vulnerable in the woods without his mother. Despite the violence and abuse Mungo has endured in the countryside, beautiful moments like this are still possible. Mungo’s ability to perceive this moment’s aesthetic beauty reassures readers that his potential has not been squashed by his trauma. The wilderness is a place of ambiguous possibility, where dangerous and awe-inspiring things happen.

“They kept their chests puffed out until they could be safe in their mammies’ arms again; where they could coorie into her side as she watched television and she would ask, ‘What is all this, eh, what’s with all these cuddles?’ and they would say nothing, desperate to just be boys again, wrapped up safe in her softness.

This quote reveals the hidden vulnerabilities and sensitivities of the tough street fighters. On the outside, they swagger and battle and bleed. But on the inside, these boys and men crave the safety of their mothers’ arms and long for the simplicity of their childhood. All East End men suffer from the oppressive expectations of toxic masculinity, which destroys their sensitive natures.

“It turned out to be a beautiful day. The loch was alive with sunlight as Mungo helped Gallowgate drag the dead man back to their campsite.”

Mungo’s terror and the nightmare he is living is juxtaposed with the beautiful Scottish countryside. The glorious weather has no bearing on Mungo’s dark and tragic suffering—there is no divine presence in it, and no powerful being can save Mungo from his predators. He can appreciate the aesthetic qualities of the landscape, but must cope with his attackers on his own.

“He wasn’t the shy little boy with the spazzy face. He wasn’t the poofy Fenian lover who was no good at fighting. They had broken into his body. He had killed a man. He had bludgeoned him and then he had drowned him. It was a funny feeling, to know that he was more of a man than Hamish would ever be, and also less, at the very same time.”

Stuart articulates a major character shift. Mungo goes from a shy boy to a killer, proving his abusers wrong by reclaiming his autonomy. This change doesn’t give Mungo any pride. He realizes that becoming tougher and being driven to the point of murder is a dangerous slide into sacrificing who he really is. Notably, even Hamish hasn’t killed the way Mungo has, which makes Mungo manlier by his society’s standards. This is an example of tragic irony, because Mungo was sent to the countryside to become a man and indeed came out a man—abused, victimized, and violent.

“As Mungo leaned over the water he focused on his reflection. He wondered what it was the men had recognized in him. Where was this signal he could not see, the semaphore he had never meant to send? Was it in how his eyes never quite met theirs, how they turned themselves down submissively? Was it in how he stood with his hands limp at his side, his weight on one leg? He wanted to find the signal, and he wanted to end its transmission.”

In wondering what quality he has that attracts predators, Mungo internalizes his abuse and turns the blame onto himself. If he can pinpoint this quality, he believes he can extract it and be safer. But there is nothing wrong with Mungo; there is a lot of wrong in the world around him.

“Mungo wanted nothing more than to share his pain with them. To make them feel the slow terrifying hours he had felt. But Gallowgate was right, he could never share the hurt, because it would cloud their eyes and some part of them would wonder what he had done to deserve it.”

Mungo still wants to share his vulnerability and wants helps and compassion from others. But sharing his pain and seeking help will only bring more problems—adding another layer of trauma. Understanding this painful reality, helps Mungo pull back from giving his family unconditional love. This quote also explains why Mungo blames himself for what has been done to him—the world of the East End is built on blaming victims for their abuse.