Tag Archive for Griffin MA

Robin Hood for a New Generation: A Guest Blog by MA Griffin

paybackOver a week ago, I featured Payback as my book of the week. It’s sharp, political and a very modern take on Robin Hood. Here, MA Griffin describes the influences and ideas that formed the novel.

Every generation has their own version of Robin Hood.

Mine was a BBC adaptation starring first Michael Praed and then Jason Connery. Like all versions, it differentiated itself from its predecessors with a series of idiosyncrasies. This one had a moody Clannad soundtrack over shots of shadowy forests, and a weird stag-headed God called Herne the Hunter.

Two elements of the Robin Hood story have stayed with me ever since. One is the fascination with ensemble casts. The line that runs through Poison Boy, Lifers and now Payback is the assembly of a rag-tag crew of unlikely heroes who spend as much time battling each other as they do the forces of the antagonist. The other is the idea of the sympathetic outlaw – the character whose actions are morally dubious but whose intentions are good, and who finds themselves battling a hierarchical system built to favour those in power.

Payback had both of these elements even in the early stages of planning. When I met the Chicken House team to discuss the book, I had a paragraph of prose describing an organisation called – at the time – Takeback. My opening sentence was, “The richest 1% control half the world’s wealth. It’s time for a new Robin Hood; a company of trained thieves called Takeback.”

M. A. GriffinAs I planned and wrote Payback, I was thinking partly about the Amazon tax scandal of 2016, now being replicated blow-for-blow by Netflix. I was also thinking about an article I’d read about champagne in the House of Lords. As austerity bit, there was a plan to combine the catering services for the House of Commons and the Lords to save the taxpayer money. The Lords rejected it because it would have meant accepting a cheaper vintage of champagne. Their catering budget is £1.3m per annum. Parliament’s bar bill in 2016 was £1.8m. Combined, that’s £12.4m over the course of a four year term that we’re not spending on mental health services, housing, welfare, the NHS, education.

Payback is a masked gang of teenagers who are way too brave and enterprising to accept this sort of nonsense. They plan heists (‘grabs’) stealing money and valuables from corrupt lawyers, luxury goods companies and unscrupulous casinos then arrange ‘drops’, public events where the money is redistributed amongst those less fortunate. They have a YouTube channel of movies shot during their raids. They have fan-forums where supporters share potential targets. City centres bristle with pro-Payback graffiti; newspaper op-eds speculate about the identity of the gang’s masked members. When our protagonist Tom gets to join his idols, he’s thrust instantly into the limelight; famous overnight.

But Payback is struggling. Evading the law month after month is exhausting and one particularly relentless cop is closing in. Then it turns out they’ve made a terrible error. The victim of one of their heists turns out to be vengeful and unhinged; a man ready to do anything to protect his reputation.

What do you do when the law is closing in one side and malicious hoodlums stalk you on the other? Like the blurb says, “Robin Hood never had it this bad…”

Payback by M. A. Griffin is out now in paperback (£7.99, Chicken House), and you can read my review here, and purchase the book here. With thanks to M.A. Griffin, who you can follow on twitter @fletchermoss and find out more at www.chickenhousebooks.com

Payback by M A Griffin

paybackWith an edgy cover that illuminates shadows of teens wearing fox masks against a stark black background, where the title winks at the reader in foiled gold lettering, Payback draws attention before the reader has even opened the book. Inside, lies a dark, gritty political thriller.

Protagonist 16-year-old Tom has long been a fan of direct action group, Payback – a modern Robin Hood heist outfit who take from the rich and give to the poor, often filming their crimes and screening them on YouTube. When they target the hotel where he works, it’s not long before he’s recruited to the cause and the group, and using his acting skills to assist in their next ventures.

In typical heist movie style, the reader is on board with the perpetrators of the crime, at first seeing what they do as necessary to combat corporate and government wrongs. The so-called victims of the crimes are not victims at all but evil money-grabbers, and the direct action group Payback doesn’t keep the money, but simply redistributes wealth – handing it off to the neediest in society.

But the beauty of the book, which reads as a thriller, gaining momentum job after job like a train rushing through stations with the brakes off, is that it makes the reader re-evaluate the protagonist’s motives, and the moral stature of the group.

Tom comes from a privileged background – something of which is he quite self-aware. And it troubles him at the same time as providing him with a cushy safety net. And Payback’s crimes are not without their innocent victims – even the ones not at the scene, such as the waiter they trick out of having a job, simply by taking his place as a disguise. As the violence ramps up, the reader becomes even more doubtful of the lines of right and wrong.

In the middle, there’s some head scratching for the reader – was Robin Hood right – is stealing from the rich to give to the poor the right thing to do – and how do you work out who should be a beneficiary and who shouldn’t? And are all the privileged evil? There’s some pretty facile arguing from some of the gang, juxtaposing benefit withdrawal with champagne expenses in the House of Lords. All this talk about the balance of wealth in society makes the book current, but what Griffin does magnificently is that he doesn’t present the story as a didactic piece – just as a kind of ‘throwing it out there, think about this’ conversation.

The teenagers read as pretty authentic, with the odd swear word grafted in, and the dialogue pretty spot-on – tidied of course for a prose novel – but they also come across as pretty insular and spectacularly naïve. In fact, at times every move seems more like a game to them – even a computer game – than real life. So when they set some of their money on fire, or badly misread a trap – it’s kind of inevitable that things will start to go badly for them, and that the smart policewoman who’s hot on their heels will piece it all together before they will.

By and by, the reader learns that much of the gang’s motivation isn’t necessarily altruistic.

However, Griffin ramps up the tension so that by the time the policewoman comes across Payback’s headquarters, the reader is in as much of a hurry to find out what happens as Tom and Payback are to get away. The second half of the book is a rip-roaring read, particularly difficult to put down.

The idea of a direct action group making changes in society rather than the people being reliant on the government to effect change is perhaps even more current than the idea of a Robin Hood figure (although Griffin purportedly took some inspiration from Juan Manuel Sanchez Gordillo, a modern Spanish politician famous for his Robin Hood raids). The novel is highly political because it speaks directly to teenagers about how and when they could effect change themselves – and at what point a moral or legal line is crossed.

With a wonderful evocation of a slightly different Manchester, in which teens lurk in spaces under arches and access free climbing walls, and terrific scenes in the dark ‘wild nothingness’ of the countryside, Griffin nails his settings with aplomb. It’s a highly visual novel with teasing chapter endings, moral dilemmas and questions about consequences, trust and justice. But most of all, it’s a thriller of a ride. Invest in this one, and you’ll have swift payback in satisfaction. You can buy it here.