In James Kelman's short story "Naval History" (Kelman 1991: 93–105 [NH]), published in his collection The Burn, we are confronted with a situation in which his namesake protagonist is literally burdened with history. On leaving a bookshop, James is stopped by two old acquaintances who, disregarding his protest, load his arms with huge tomes: "They started lifting other books from here and there, piling them on top of the first one at a fierce rate with this crazy fucker Alan insisting I dont say a word and each time I tried he did this stupid finger-into-the-ears routine with big laugh at his misses' (NH 93). Redolent of the postmodern condition that I delineated through Benjamin's Angel of History above, the retrospective first-person narration by James makes clear that he is given no choice but to contemplate with bewilderment the proceedings; how these two, as he puts it, are "plying me with these enormous tomes just to weigh me down" (NH 100). Robbed of his agency and any means to protest or defend himself, James is accused by his former colleague: "Aye, you"ve no changed […] You"re a failed scholar, he said, a failed trades-union organiser, plus you"re a failed socialist [and] more importantly… you"re skint" (NH 93, 95).