Man, oh man. Irvine Welsh, where hae ye gawne? I just finished reading his latest novel (about a week ago or so), and the sullen feeling of disappointment is still clinging to me. I sometimes shower four times a day, trying to rid myself of it.If you don't know who Welsh is, well, he wrote the novel (and, I think, screenplay) "Trainspotting." If you don't know what that is, well, it's about junkies in Scotland. It was a great novel and a great movie, and kicked off a very successful run for Welsh. The next handful of books he put out were great; he really knocked them out of the park. About eight years ago or so, sadly, he started to slip.
This latest novel, "Crime," certainly isn't his worst. It is, though, his saddest. And not 'sad' as in emotional-response levels; just 'sad' like watching your uncle fall down the steps on Memorial Day.
Too sad to even continue writing about.
