1963 : A Slice Of Bread And Jam by Tommy Rhattigan

A friend of mine lent me the book “1963 A Slice of Bread and Jam” by Tommy Rhattigan a couple of months ago but because I have so many books on my TBR list, I did not get around to reading it until a couple of days ago. I thought it is a gloomy type of book about abject poverty but it turns out to be a rather humorous book based on the true story of the author’s life when he was 7 years old. I have some really good laughs and thoroughly enjoyed the book. Thank you for lending me the book, Marilyn Koh.

1963 A Slice of Bread and Jam by Tommy Rhattigan

The book is a funny and wonderful snapshot of the author’s year of adventure amidst crippling poverty with his twelve siblings, his abusive and alcoholic father and his alcoholic and chain-smoking mother in 1960s Manchester. It is written from a child’s point of view with innocence and humour, with strong Irish accents adding to the whole colourful package. There is also a lot of brutal and gritty heart-wrenching content told through the eyes of this innocent seven-year old not fully comprehending the severity of his situation.

Alongside his siblings Tommy begs – or steals – a few pennies to bring home to his uncaring parents to avoid a beating from his physically abusive father, while looking for something to eat and a little adventure along the way.

With a huge dose of good humour as well as heart-wrenching sadness, we are introduced to Tommy’s foul-mouthed family members and their running afoul with school welfare officers, the nuns, and the police. Amidst the violence, parental neglect, grinding poverty and a glaring lack of hygiene and morality, lies a strong sense of loyalty and, above all, survival.

Tommy was also moments away from becoming the sixth victim of the Moors Murderers, Ian Brady and Myra Hindley, when he was lured to their house with a promise of bread and jam. He suddenly sensed he was in grave danger and leapt from a sash window to escape the evil clutches of his would-be murderers.

This book brought back fond memories of my own childhood in Binatang where I had a carefree childhood filled with innocent fun – swimming in the Rejang River, fishing on the Rejang Port Authority Wharf and near the roadside little streams, playing marbles, hide-and-seek and cops-and-robbers in the back lanes of the shophouses, watching movies in Eastern Theatre, climbing rambutan trees in my dad’s orchard, chasing after government anti-communism propaganda leaflets dropped from helicopters, watching free movies (mainly cowboy movies) and cartoons in the padang in front of the District Council courtesy of Milo, watching cock fights, and eating ice kantong. A book can stir up so much nostalgia. Isn’t that amazing?