Sal is the debut novel of Mick Kitson, a journalist turned teacher who was frustrated with the books that appeared on the curriculum and set out to write something he would want to teach. In 13-year-old Sal it has a strong and distinctive first-person narrator. Sal is on the run with her 10-year-old sister, the witty and compelling Peppa. After a year of watching YouTube videos and learning about survival, they run away into the Scottish wilderness in search of safety and redemption.
Early on we find out that Sal has killed her alcoholic mother’s boyfriend, Robert, who has been sexually abusing her for five years. She had kept this a secret, placing a lock on her younger sister’s door to protect her, but when Peppa turns 10, Sal realises the lock will no longer be enough. After an act of ultimate self-defence, she grabs Peppa and they flee.
Sal’s main fear seems to be that she and her sister might be taken into care and split up. Their mother used to threaten them with this, as did Robert. “He said Peppa would get fostered and adopted by Africans because she is half an African and I’d get adopted by old people and we wouldn’t be together. And that is never going to happen.” Sal’s observations of her sister are compelling and beautiful. “She is either still like a stone or going really fast. She eats fast and she talks fast.” The sisters’ relationship is a real highlight of the book, and the differences in their personalities are well drawn.
Sal talks about Instagram and Snapchat; she says the internet is mostly for porn, although she prefers it as a source of factual information. I loved Sal for her pragmatic approach to the world: the girls’ loyalty and humour carries them through brutal circumstances. The sisters’ relationship also counteracts the impression that Sal perhaps has no emotional compass. While she says she does not see the point in feelings, or understand the difference between action and emotion, she would not be capable of such fierce and selfless affection for her sister had she not an understanding of morality and love. This is something Kitson conveys with a deft hand and it keeps the reader firmly on Sal’s side. The addition of hippy survivalist Ingrid, whom they meet in the wilderness, introduces another brilliant female character.
Some descriptions suggest the novel’s inspirations span decades, although it is set in the present. Sal mentions kids at school such as “the boys who were all headbangers and druggies and in gangs. The twins were a year older than me and they never spoke either, but they battered kids all over the school and when they walked down the corridors everyone got out their way. They both wore the same clothes and gold chains and shell suits and Nikes.” These passages err on the side of stereotype and nod more toward late 80s or early 90s fashion.
Extreme themes can manipulate a reader’s emotions: they must be there for the right reasons. As someone who was a teenage runaway and who grew up in the care system, I opened this novel wondering why a middle-aged man wanted to write the story of two young girls, and their experiences of poverty and sexual abuse. But writers filter the collective consciousness, and literature is beginning to depict competent, wild, vulnerable kids who are having to separate themselves from a society that does not protect them. Four million children live in poverty in the UK: that is 30% of all children. As a father and schoolteacher Kitson has no doubt witnessed some of the social consequences of such an environment. I did not get the impression that he picked this subject with a journalistic eye. Rather, the voices of Sal, Peppa and Ingrid have genuinely called to him.
Kitson writes clearly and concisely. The depictions of wilderness survival are detailed and will appeal to anyone who dreams of escaping the confines of modern life. The girls’ capability, humanity and humour are inspiring and wonderful. Sal is an ambitious and skilled novel. Literature needs more stories like this.
• Jenni Fagan’s latest novel is The Sunlight Pilgrims (Windmill). Sal is published by Canongate. To order a copy for £11.04 (RRP £12.99) go to bookshop.theguardian.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over £10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of £1.99.
