A fairly subdued piece of work from Childish that describes the beginnings of a worker who sets of as a stonemason but who really wants to be an artist. His descriptions of the various characters he works with and the poverty of their (cognitive and cultural) lives is even more affective within the 'illiteracy' of his prose style. It has links with the novels of the late 1950s and such authors as David Storey and Alan Sillitoe but also is vastly different when considered within the perspective Childish's music and art. Childish is a unique British talent and whose work deserves nuch greater recognition. Check out his paintings and poetry as well.