The virtual currency is scarce, sovereign and a great place for the mega-rich to store their wealth.
In “Shuggie Bain,” Douglas Stuart’s award-winning and harrowing depiction of alcoholism, sectarianism and deprivation in post-industrial Scotland, money is always scarce and often dirty. Deserted by her second husband and unable to hold down a job, Shuggie’s mother, Agnes, relies on her twice-a-week child benefit to feed her children — or her booze habit. As the latter nearly always wins, she and Shuggie are regularly reduced to desperate expedients to fend off starvation: Extracting coins from electricity and television meters, pawning their few valuable possessions, and ultimately selling their bodies for brutal sexual favors.
Stuart vividly captures the miseries of a Glasgow of greasy coins and filthy banknotes. After one of many wretched copulations in the back of a taxi, one of Agnes’s lovers inadvertently showers her with coins from his pocket. Shuggie’s father briefly reappears at one point, handing his son two 20-pence pieces from his taxi’s change dispenser by way of a gift, grudgingly adding four 50-pence pieces when the boy looks nonplused. (“Don’t ask for mair!”) The “rag-and-bone man,” who goes from house to house buying old clothes and junk, pays “with a roll of grubby pound notes” bound by an old Band-Aid. The image is especially startling because banknotes have so rarely featured in the narrative. The only credit in this world is from rent-to-own catalogues, the Provident doorstep lender, and a few hard-pressed shopkeepers.
