The Gods of Frequency

Shane Johnstone
Arkbound 
Reviewed

You could fill an entire library with novels of self-flagellating Scottish masculinity. There’s an argument that The Gods of Frequency, Shane Johnstone’s debut novel, belongs in such a bleak institution. But beyond the familiar gospel of a working class Scots flâneur plagued by depression and alcoholism, there is tender revelation too. Like its cast of tramps and hawkers this is a more clever book than it lets on.

Unravelling the tangled narratives that emerge from a single gig at an island festival, Gods takes us on a tour of the Scottish folk scene: with particular attention to that scene’s quirks, hypocrisies and booze-steeped inconstancy.

But we get more than just the barbs of a character who doesn’t fit within a genre that demands either ‘indigenous’ authenticity or meticulous technical training. The lives of so many millennials: a troubled mix of expectation, debt, and a breezy approach to all things ‘creative’ are interrogated too. As the protagonist’s partner points out: ‘Just because you have the talent for something doesn’t mean you have to spend your whole life making yourself ill because of it.’

The novel’s candour may veer towards inferiority psychodrama at points; but the search for a route beyond the binary outcomes of success or burnout keeps things moving. There are a lot of bodily appetites in here. The effects of caffeine, alcohol, tobacco and steak bakes are covered in some depth. We even get to learn about the protagonist’s ablutions: ‘Boom, hair, oakies, groin, arse, done’ (since you asked), and are introduced to him via a slightly nauseating chapter entitled ‘The Plook’. But for all the hormones and endorphins present there is almost no mention of sex. Music takes its place: ‘I d’no if it’s a spiritual current or cos wir pickin up each other’s boady language, but music dosnae get better than staunin inches fae each other.’

‘Why play music?’ Is the question that haunts this book. ‘Why write about music?’ Is the more complex task that Gods sets out to tackle. That Johnstone succeeds in capturing ephemeral moments of harmony and dissonance, in prose that is both raw and tender, marks him out as an original literary voice.

—Christopher Silver