Latest news with #DarrenMcGarvey
The National
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- The National
Why Darren McGarvey wants out of the prison of his own persona
Given recent publicity, you might think this is a quote from Darren McGarvey's new book Trauma Industrial Complex – but not so. It's a tweet I sent in July 2021 in response to headlines that Prince Harry was to write another 'intimate and heartfelt memoir of his life'. At the time, the comment threw up a response from the Scottish rapper. 'Only if you are a one-trick pony,' he replied, perhaps a tad defensively. 'Confessional is just one facet. Every day I see healing from the identification people get hearing others share. You're right – it can be commodified sometimes cynically. But when done well for the right reasons, it's as legitimate and profound as any other meaningful writing. People are entitled to their privacy. Their stoicism. But that's not everyone's bag.' READ MORE: Israel in talks to resettle Palestinians in South Sudan, sources say Remembering this exchange, I was interested to discover that McGarvey's third book focuses on the dangers of over-disclosure. In essence, the book is a sustained reflection on McGarvey's experiences of going public and the consequences of becoming trapped in the story and the persona which shot him to fame. McGarvey has discovered he might be an unreliable narrator. He's tired of being described as honest and brave and authentic. He doesn't want to be led out onto stages again and again to tell pat, pre-packaged stories about his past. I don't love the title. A riff on Dwight D Eisenhower's famous reference to the 'military industrial complex' which criticised the unhealthy relationship between the defence industry and politics in the United States. For McGarvey, the 'Trauma Industrial Complex is the system in which the very real and urgent issue of mass unacknowledged untreated trauma is commodified, medicalised and repackaged for profit, validation and influence'. Like McGarvey, I worry our confessional culture is giving folk perverse incentives to expose more and more of themselves in public, as if confession is inevitably good for the soul. I'm not so sure. Learning to be honest with yourself is one thing. Telling Twitter, another. But then, I don't have a lifestyle built on telling strangers about my private life. And that must alter your perspective a bit, particularly if, like McGarvey, you've now reached the conclusion that you can't afford to live with one of the very things which made you a success in the first place. It sounds like a paradox, but I've often thought confessions can be excellent ways of avoiding responsibility. One of my earliest memories of hearing McGarvey on the radio was listening to an interview he was doing with Shereen Nanjiani. He told the interviewer he'd done things in his past which he wasn't proud of. People had been hurt along the way, he said. Nanjiani immediately responded to this admission by congratulating McGarvey on how brave and inspiring and searingly honest he was being. We progressed, without intermission, from an admission of badness into a patronising round of applause. The moment is emblematic of how McGarvey has often been treated by the media since Poverty Safari won the Orwell Prize in 2018. This dramatic mood shift wasn't McGarvey's fault. I suppose he could have piped up and forced the interviewer to challenge her vacuous transition from a recognition of wrongdoing to the transformation of that wrongdoing into the latest gritty and authentic confession – but why should he? It isn't his fault if people code him in this perverse way. In one striking story from the new book, McGarvey is confronted with a challenging question from a therapist during a more recent stint in rehab. 'You tell stories to protect yourself. Why is that?' he is asked. Over the years, it has been something I've noticed about him too. In December 2023, McGarvey published a startling post on Twitter. In it, he disclosed that he had 'been dealing with longstanding debt for over three years' but was finally free of its burden. In characteristic form, this was written as a triumph over adversity – but with a sting. The 'debt' in question was unpaid income tax. This could have been a dangerous moment for our young hero, but confession did its magic work once again. If one of the more hostile tabloids had got hold of the story first, you could have expected to read headlines along the lines of 'social justice warrior doesn't pay his taxes' – 'socialist boasts of big pig pay cheques but doesn't pay HMRC its due' – but instead, various social media correspondents suggested it was 'inspiring' to hear that this particular new occupant of the higher tax bracket had finally given the exchequer everything it was due. READ MORE: Far-right protest in Falkirk met by anti-racism counter-demo outside asylum hotel McGarvey's account of this debt in the book is given glancing reference – 'my financial illiteracy' – but nothing more is said. It takes real chutzpah to successfully rechart not paying your income tax on time into yet another inspiring redemption arc. I don't recommend anyone else try it, but for McGarvey, it worked because, as he says, he's good at telling stories. THIS book isn't primarily an attack on those who have been sceptical about McGarvey, but on the image of him held by his most uncritical fans. 'I was affirmed, validated and applauded until I literally could not function under the weight of my own bullshit,' he says. The metaphors he uses are striking. McGarvey characterises the persona he has developed for himself as 'a prison', feeling like 'an artist might do if they awakened one morning to find themselves trapped in their own drawing'. He speaks of his fears of 'conditional acceptance from a tribe that loves me only as long as I play my assigned role' – that role being the one with the unhappy childhood, addiction and good old-fashioned poverty that self-loathing, socially-conscious middle classes can gawp at in awed but remote fascination. In another passage, he says he feels 'like an animal caged in a zoo; aware I could overpower my handlers and flee if opportunity presented itself, though what I'd do, or where I'd go after, are unknowns yet too frightening to face'. As that final clause suggests, what is less obvious is whether McGarvey is really prepared to live with the consequences of breaking free of his handlers. In the book, he claims that his recent August Fringe run was 'already sold out' and concludes with a zen-like depiction of himself, reconsecrated to living a smaller and more sincere life, less in thrall to the need for external recognition and online validation, content to be setting up for recovery support sessions, putting on the kettle in draughty halls, setting out plastic chairs. His obvious agitation about waning interest in his output on social media suggests that he may not be quite as reconciled to the consequences of ripping the painting out of the frame as the concluding chapters suggest. I don't blame him. Writing and publishing this book must have been a terrifying experience. It is one of the most unstinting repudiations of a public self I've ever read, and if McGarvey is concerned about reactions to it, I can understand why, because this book assertively rejects key parts of his public appeal, activity and authority claims over the last five years. If it is taken seriously, it should have consequences, but I imagine an irritatingly large number of people will still say they find it brave, authentic and challenging – while ignoring the elements of it which are truly courageous, sincere and difficult. McGarvey writes with a combination of well-earned pride about his achievements and a degree of bitterness about how uninterested people are when he tries to escape his genre. 'Any time I've ever floated the idea of producing a piece of work that was not about my poverty, addiction, or some adjacent topic, it's been met with resistance or disinterest,' he says. 'I find myself continually drawn back to the same story. My audience, in many ways, won't let me move on from it. Or, at least, that's how it feels sometimes. Any work I produce which is not anchored in my own suffering in some way draws tangibly less interest from both audiences and, in some cases, commissioners – a problem when your whole career is based on you being the product. 'Without it,' he frets, 'people may lose interest in anything else I have to say.' But as other creative spirits have discovered, killing off the character who made them famous often has the consequence that people aren't interested in you at all any more. McGarvey is clearly conscious of this risk. And there's the big anxious, unanswered question underpinning this book. Without Loki, without the misery memoir appeal and the no-mean-city reminiscences, does anyone care what Darren McGarvey has to say? 'Will I ever just be accepted as a professional in my own right, like everyone else?' Time will tell, I suppose.
The Herald Scotland
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Herald Scotland
The real problem with ‘diversity', from a man who knows
I bring this up because the subject of demonstrations has been on my mind since a conversation I had with Darren McGarvey the other day. Darren is the writer and rapper who won the Orwell prize for his book Poverty Safari, which explores the causes of deprivation and tells the story of his own difficult childhood in Pollok. I also saw Darren's show at the Fringe which is based on his latest book, Trauma Industrial Complex, and it was a vivid experience. At one point, rap-style, he reeled off some of the worst moments of his childhood and the audience was uncomfortable because he wanted them to be. Change, the radical sort, doesn't come from comfort. When I met Darren after the show, we talked about a lot of things but I was especially interested in his views on class which is when the subject of demos came up. The biggest sign of middle-class priorities in the UK, said Darren, came in the fury about Brexit. 'That was when middle class people decided to get out on the street to protect the right of their kids to go and live and work abroad,' he said, 'But they never came out on the streets for austerity, they never came out when the bankers got away with throwing our economy in the toilet, and that's fine, everybody has the right to protect their own interests. But sometimes people like to drape themselves in the veils of diversity and inclusion and forget the equity part of it.' Read more Book festival defends itself against claims of excluding working class in 'stitch-up' The big downside of electric buses. I'm living it every day This is all that remains. But there's hope in these ruins Darren gave me plenty of examples – public institutions that have high-profile policies on diversity and inclusion but low pay for their staff, for example, or prices that exclude the working class. But he feels like he's actually lived the issue himself this year by failing to make the programme for the Edinburgh Book Festival. He rightly points out the festival has a certain aesthetic that doesn't sit with writers like him. He also points out that lots of writers don't have the publicists and agents to lobby for them and many of those writers are working class. 'It's a stitch-up,' he told me, 'an industry stitch-up.' Interestingly, now that Darren has kicked up a stink, the festival tell me that they're speaking to Darren and would like to include him in the line-up for next year, but it does feel like the damage has been done already, or that the point has been made. Policies on diversity, inclusion and equity very loudly and publicly focus on diversity of gender, sexuality and race but rarely, if ever, focus on diversity of class. It's absolutely true that working class writers are less likely to make it on to the line-up of the book festival, or any festival, and it's because, in Darren's words, we forget the equity part. I suppose what did surprise me a bit as Darren and I talked some more, me a middle-class conservative, Darren a working-class socialist, is that the two of us often agreed on the way forward, the right approach to fixing the problem. Darren spoke about the differences he sees on trips to Europe where there's more balance between neoliberal economics and a social contract and believes there are lessons for the UK to learn, if only we'd listen. Partly because of what he's seen in Europe, and party because of what he's learned from his days of addiction and days of recovery, he says there's a balance to be struck between the role of government and the role of the individual. You could create a utopia, he says, where there's a public service to meet every need and still not get an alcoholic to stop unless they decide to. Personal responsibility has a part to play. (Image: Newsquest) I said to Darren, a little tongue in cheek, that this is the kind of talk that could get him labelled a Tory – and he has had flak from certain sections of the Left for his opinions. But he said that to deny the role of personal responsibility would be to deny the evidence of his own life and the lives of people around him in order to maintain some kind of ideological conformity and he isn't willing to do it. I also admire the way he's torn into the festival, because he absolutely should have been on the programme but mainly because he's right: the festival has a problem with equity, class equity, which needs fixing. The hope now is that the book festival people have got the message – their invitation to Darren to attend next year is perhaps an indication they have. But the despair kicks in, I'm afraid, when we start to think of practical solutions to the wider problem. I asked Darren what he made of the current version of the SNP and his sigh was long, very long indeed: 'a bunch of caretakers' he said, making caretakers sound like a swear word. He also believes there needs to be radical change in the way we organise society, the economy and our politics for true equity to be achieved. But the other big problem here – and it's persistent – is that the concept of diversity, equity and inclusion that guides events such as the book festival is still ignoring one of the biggest issues that divides us. Darren says class is the defining facet of his identity and why wouldn't he: it's one of the defining facets for all of us, still, and the society we live in. And yet here we are, apparently in an age of greater diversity, equity and inclusion and we aren't talking about class, not really. Which is where disruptors like Darren come in. He's going to talk about it anyway. And make us listen. Good on him.
Scotsman
09-08-2025
- Entertainment
- Scotsman
Why Edinburgh International Book Festival can't ignore working-class and gender-critical voices
Sign up to our daily newsletter – Regular news stories and round-ups from around Scotland direct to your inbox Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... Do you remember the good old days? Back when the Edinburgh International Book Festival was situated in Charlotte Square and felt like the beating heart of everything good happening in the city in August. In those days, it punched way above its weight, attracting some of the finest authors of our age and tackling every subject under the sun. Then it got lost. Literally, that meant a journey to Edinburgh College of Art, then onto its new home at Edinburgh Futures Institute. But it also lost its spine. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Last year that involved caving in to the new puritans who decided sponsorship money supplied by Baillie Gifford wasn't scented enough for their delicate nostrils. The cultural vandals identifying as Fossil Free Books demanded sponsors should divest any investments linked to oil and gas or Israel. Citing concerns about 'safety', the book festival organisers compliantly pulled the plug on a 20-year-relationship. READ MORE: Why Edinburgh has picked exactly the wrong moment to launch to bike hire scheme Writer and musician Darren McGarvey, pictured at the launch of the Make Health Equal campaign last year, claims he has been excluded from Edinburgh International Book Festival (Picture: David Parry Media Assignments) | PA Left out in cold So how did that work out for everyone? For the investment firm, it was business as usual but the move emptied the festival's coffers. Unsurprisingly no replacement corporate sponsors have been keen to face the constant trial by scolds so it has been left to generous, kind-hearted individuals to prop things up for the sake of the institution. You might have thought last year's embarrassment would have made the organisers think more carefully about the decisions they make but no. This year they're being pilloried over programming, with gender-critical feminists and Orwell prize-winning author Darren McGarvey claiming they've been deliberately excluded. The theme of this year's book festival is repair so both would have fitted perfectly into the programme. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad McGarvey lives here, is an acclaimed writer and has a new book out about the impact of sharing trauma. Any psychologist will tell you that is central to repairing damage done but there was no invitation for the author. As one of the few genuine working-class voices in the literary world, he is right to feel left out in the cold. 'Extremely divisive' As are the authors of The Women Who Wouldn't Wheesht, a gender-critical anthology that has been a Sunday Times bestseller on three occasions. Despite being called by one critic 'the most important political work to come out of Scotland this century', it proved too difficult territory for the book festival. 'At present, the tenor of the discussion in the media and online on this particular subject feels extremely divisive. We do not want to be in a position that we are creating events for spectacle or sport, or raising specific people's identity as a subject of debate,' said director Jenny Niven, in response to a question about why the book wasn't featured. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad What's happened here is all very sad. A once-great 'August in Edinburgh' institution has taken sides in the culture wars in a desperate bid to be seen as progressive by the sort of people who preach being kind while practising the opposite. The end result is an event that claims to be open, curious and inclusive but does so only on its terms. Working-class people shouldn't be too working class and gender critical feminists should, well, just wheest.
Times
04-08-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
Edinburgh Book Festival has excluded me, says prizewinning author
Darren McGarvey asked whether he had done something to upset festival organisers An Orwell Prize-winning author and gender-critical feminists have condemned the Edinburgh International Book Festival, accusing it of exclusion, discrimination and blacklisting. Darren McGarvey, who won the Orwell Prize for his book Poverty Safari and delivered a Reith lecture for the BBC, questioned the decision of festival bosses not to put him on the programme, saying that he felt excluded. He asked if he had done something to upset festival organisers. 'I know I'm not a big deal in grand scheme of things but this is now the second book I've had out and no invite to come and do an event, at my home country's flagship book festival. 'My work on trauma is current , it ties in nicely to your themes. It's full of material that ticks all your boxes for creating conversation.'
Scotsman
16-07-2025
- Health
- Scotsman
Darren McGarvey joins coalition Health Equals demanding government action as new data reveals stark regional divide in life expectancy
Award-winning author Darren McGarvey joined Minister Ashley Dalton and MPs from across the political spectrum yesterday to demand urgent government action on health inequalities that are cutting lives short by up to 16 years in some parts of the UK. Sign up to our daily newsletter – Regular news stories and round-ups from around Scotland direct to your inbox Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... The Scottish rapper and social commentator, who grew up in poverty in Glasgow, told a packed parliamentary reception that health inequality had become a "political emergency" that could no longer be ignored. Speaking to more than 80 organisations and 77 MPs at the Health Equals coalition event, McGarvey said: "I grew up in a working-class community in Glasgow where poverty, addiction, and early death were part of everyday life. I saw how where you live, what you earn, and the stress you carry, can shape your health. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad "These aren't just statistics, they're stories like mine, repeating across the UK. Your postcode should never decide how long you live." Daren McGarvey and Maureen Burke Stark regional divide revealed The event highlighted new data showing people in some areas of England and Wales are more than twice as likely to die before age 75 compared to other regions. The North East, North West and Yorkshire and the Humber have the highest rates of premature death, while London has the lowest. The coalition, which includes Mind, the British Red Cross, Citizens Advice and Crisis, is calling for a cross-government strategy to tackle what it describes as the "building blocks of health" - quality housing, stable employment and clean air. Public Health Minister Ashley Dalton, who attended the event, acknowledged the government's role in addressing the crisis. "Tackling persistent health inequalities is a key aim of our mission to make the NHS fit for the future," she said. "We are determined to ensure that where you live no longer determines how long you live." Public concern grows Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Polling commissioned by Health Equals revealed growing public alarm about the nation's health, with 53% believing physical health in the UK is getting worse. Almost all adults (95%) reject the idea that individuals alone are responsible for staying healthy, with 72% saying government shares responsibility. The event was hosted by Afzal Khan MP, whose Manchester Rusholme constituency sits in the bottom 25% for life expectancy at just 77 years. Paul McDonald, Chief Campaigns Officer at Health Equals, described health inequality as "a national crisis hiding in plain sight". "The data shows that people in some areas of England and Wales are twice as likely to die before 75 than people in other areas," he said. "This reflects deep-rooted inequality tied to where people live, work, and learn." Government commitment tested Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The campaign comes after the government committed in its 10-Year Health Plan to halve the gap in healthy life expectancy between the richest and poorest regions. However, campaigners argue this requires action far beyond the NHS, encompassing housing, education, employment and environmental policy. The cross-party nature of yesterday's event - with Labour, Liberal Democrat and Independent MPs in attendance - suggests growing political consensus that health inequality represents one of the most pressing challenges facing modern Britain.
