Traditionally, the pop charts have not been home to many hunchbacks. In fact, with the exception of Quasimodo’s experimental ‘bell’period, the affliction of permanently arched posture has never really made any impact on musical history, popular or otherwise.
Which explains why Down By Law – the fame-courting duo at the centre of Drew Gummerson’s second novel – are such an unusual band. Comprised of ‘Me’ our ‘Withnail and I’-esque nameless narrator) and ‘Mickie James’ (his boyfriend and hunchbacked keyboarding cohort), the ‘Law’ have killer tunes, catchy hooks and big, bullishly optimistic dreams – and they’re moving to London in the hope of using the first two to realise the third.
The pair are soon being whisked inexplicably round the globe to entertain Danish theme parks and Japanese cruise ships, but their ultimate success remains hampered throughout by Mickie James’s discomfort and unhappiness with his condition. Only after the group realisethat, with life, ‘it’s the doing of it that’s
the experience, not the ending’, does Mickie truly seem to accept himself for who he is.
Sound more like a CBBC special than serious literature? Well, in some ways (the inclusion of a gay hunchback not being one of them), it is – and unashamedly so. ‘Me and Mickie James’ unfolds in a flurry of cartoonish adventures, each more extravagant, unlikely and enjoyablethan the last. However, while the structure of the book is a little wide eyed and simplistic, much of the content is extraordinarily dark. Reluctant pornographic cameos, desperate pre-op transsexuals, and the constant struggle to cope with disability are just a few of the bleaker plot points with which Gummerson punctures his novel’s Technicolor backdrop. Furthermore, the
endearingly chirpy naivety which he assigns his narrator ensures that when the gloomy moments arrive,they are particularly potent.
Much like the pop that Down By Law peddle, ‘Me and Mickie James’may make you think occasionally, but its real strength lies in keeping you entertained.