Matthew Fitt - FICTION
Matthew Fitt is one of the leading Scots prose writers of his generation. His debut novel, But n Ben A-Go-Go, the first work of science-fiction written in Scots, was seen as a breakthrough in Scottish literature. His Scots short stories have been published in magazines and anthologies at home and abroad. Matthew’s short story Stervin was adapted for radio. He is currently writing his second novel.

It is 2090. God's Flood has left the world underwater. A supervirus has hospitalised most of the population in huge warehouse hospices for the terminally ill. Scotland's people survive on floating cities in the Clyde Delta, besieged by fifty degree heat, cybergangsters like Diamond Broon and radge hurricanes called Elvis. Written entirely in Scots (with an introduction for readers new to this rich Scottish language). Matthew Fitt's SF classic in the Mither Tongue is more relevant today than ever.
![]() | ![]() Kindle version of But n Ben A-Go-Go How to read But n Ben A-Go-Go Fitt does some great world-building, intriguing and well thought-out. It’s still a novelty to read SF in Scots, but the ecological message has only got more timely. Alastair Mabbott, The Herald Matthew Fitt will do for prose in Scots what Hugh MacDiarmid did for poetry in Scots. James Robertson … a cracker. Geraldine Brennan, Times Educational Supplement …. going where no man has gone before. Stephen Naysmith, The Herald |
PAOLO STEVENSON BROON’S GENETIC code wis a direct haun-me-doon fae his maternal grandfaither, Stevenson Klog. The Klog faimlie pool wis a bree o grippie east coast insurance men an born again presbyterian fishwifes, lowsed by the lord fae prozac, sex an involuntary hame shoppin. Grandfaither Klog never bosied or beardied him when he wis wee but gart him staun in foostie cupboards in his sterile widower’s apartments whenever Paolo bairnishly havered Klog’s deid wife’s name. Glowerin numbly throu the keek panel o Omega Kist 624 up on Gallery 1083 on the fifth anniversary fae the day his life pairtner Nadia wis Kisted, Paolo had nae choice but tae acknowledge his thrawn pedigree. The langer he gowked at the recumbent figure ahint the reekit gless panel, the mair he felt the Klog cauldness tichten roon his hert. As he watched fae the view gate in the Rigo Imbeki Medical Center high up on Montrose Parish, the threid-thin voice o his grandfaither kittled in his mind, an Paolo, yince mair, when confrontit by the weariest sicht imaginable tae him, foond himsel patently unable tae greet. From But n Ben A-Go-Go Luath Press, 2000, 2001, 2005, 2020 |