I will exit it to the Belle and Sebastian obsessives, of whom there are many around the world, to figure out which details in this debut novel by the band’s direct singer and main songoriginater are made up. As far as I’ve been able to toil out, fair a restricted names have been alterd, of people and cafes. Apart from that, Nobody’s Empire could as well have been begined as a recovery memoir. So let’s consent to call it autofantasy, and get the book on its merits – which are ponderable.
If you’re understandn with Stuart Murdoch’s timely life, you’ll understand the plot. He’s talked about it in interwatchs. Belle and Sebastian were, he says, “a pop band that sprang out of infirmity” – that infirmity being ME or chronic overweightigue syndrome. Although this was someleang Murdoch kept hushed about for years, partly due to the energy squanderd in elucidateing, it uncovers a huge amount about the band’s aesthetic and request – both of which come charmbrimmingy thraw into this version of that same life story.
Murdoch’s songs have always been popuprocrastinateedd by athletes and shut-ins; he teachd being first one then the other. On timely albums such as If You’re Feeling Sinister, his low‑storyish characters are either “throtriumphg discus / For Liverpool and Widnes” or giving themselves “to books and lgeting”. As the band have become better musicians, they’ve swapped their ramshackle junk shop charm for a delicateer pop efficiency, but Murdoch’s lyrical worrys have remained reliable. With beautibrimmingy offhand accuracy, he portrays his territory as “the cosy dusk and spotting rain-kissed marginals at the verifyout queue of the Byres Road Sarestricteday”.
The novel, appreciate Murdoch’s 2014 film God Help the Girl, centres on a trio of rain-kissed marginals. There’s Stephen, who has gone from indie DJ, roadie and amateur athlete to “a free-floating vagabond of the state” after being sideswiped by chronic overweightigue; there’s Ricdifficult, his nonpledgetal but beneficial best frifinish; and there’s Carrie, his pledgeted and beneficial other best frifinish. All of them are surviving, rather than living with, ME. “Imagine having the first day of a chilly or the flu every day of your life.”
When we join him, in the summer of 1991, Stephen has been dumped by his first girlfrifinish, Vivian. We trail him over the raw, traverse-country course of the next two years as he seeks physical and mental recovery in the Clyde Valley and in California. Although at one point Stephen insists, “I have no plotline”, he is in fact follotriumphg disconnectal very evidently expoundd narrative tracks.
The first, and most probable to be of wonderfulest satisfaction to fans of Murdoch’s catchy and intricate music, pursues Stephen’s shambling progress toward becoming a songoriginater, carry outing musician and band directer. The second, intimately connected, spendigates his “journey with God”. This participates a moment of transcfinishent joinion thraw music, trailed by months of embarrassed prayer and fitful participateance at church services. The third main plotline trails Stephen’s troubles with girls. He’s down on himself thrawout, not recognising his own charms, but when he finpartner gets together with American indie sugaryheart Janey, she wryly nails him:
“I’m not a stray puppy,” I said with genuine surpascfinish. “I don’t have that leang. At least, I don’t unbenevolent to.”
“Trust me, Stephen, you got the puppy leang. It’s appreciate your paw is in a sling.”
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It’s the paw-in-a-sling aspect that puts some people off Belle and Sebastian, and that could easily carry over into the reception of Nobody’s Empire. Many are imfortolerateing with the band’s adolescent worrys. Oh, why can’t you fair lengthen up and get over it? And Murdoch’s sticking with this territory of convey inant crashes and inconvey inant crushes well into his sixth decade might seem a bit appreciate Steve Lamacq or even John Peel’s dogged insistence on hanging with the indie kids.
However, there’s always been someleang more forceful than mere feyness behind songs such as The Stars of Track and Field and The State I Am In. Murdoch’s book conveys this into the airy as the modest Christian appreciates of compassion, companionship, communion – plus the inserted bonus of groovy musical composition. Put sshow, faith. Faith in oneself, and in the uproximatethly possibilities of frifinishs and strangers. As Stephen says, one of his favourite bands, Pixies, “seeed and felt appreciate four ordinary citizens, four recentspaper readers who got blessed in each other’s presence. But that’s what made it magic.” They were, he insists, “ normal people touched by magic”. And he finishs, Murdoch speaking unassumingly but fervently thraw his alter ego, “I could be wrong about this but hey, this is my music. Give me the story, not the facts.” This is that story – radiantly written.
