Good. 1998-Paperback-Used-Good---Shows some shelf-wear. May contain old price stickers or their residue, inscriptions or dedications from previous owners in first few pages and remainder marks. -Hall Street Books proudly ships from Brooklyn, NY. All orders are processed and shipped within 24 business hours, Mon-Fri. Expedited shipping and tracking available within the US. Hall Street's No-Worry guarantee lets you buy with confidence!
Good-This Paper Back Book is in good overall condition. The covers are intact with some slight wear. The dust jacket, if applicable, is intact with some slight wear. The spine has creasing. Pages may include notes, folds and highlighting. The "Head", "Tail" and "Fore-Edge" may have markings and/or spots. Thanks for supporting our Mission at Goodwill.
Fair. We ship the same or next day and provide a tracking number with point to point tracking info. In tact and readable copy, heavy wear could include highlighting, writing/markings, fold & creases and water damage. Photo is a catalog image cover may be different.
Publishers Weekly, 1998-06-29 Another scabrous, lurid, blackly comic novel from America's favorite Scottish enfant terrible, this one does for present-day Edinburgh what James Ellroy does for 1950s Los Angeles. Welsh begins with a detective's investigation into a murderŠthe death of a Ghanaian ambassador's sonŠand turns it into a vivid exploration of the detective's own twisted psyche and seedy milieu. Detective Bruce Robertson finds himself preoccupied not with the murder but with his own genital eczema, sadistic sexual antics involving any number of girlfriends and prostitutes, his increasingly chronic appetite for coke, alcohol and greasy fast food and, finally, the parasite that has taken up residence in his intestines. Welsh effectively plays off Robertson's bilious narration with the coolly insistent voice of another entityŠthe tapeworm, who seems to be the repository of Robertson's childhood memories and what is left of his superegoŠas the detective spins out of control, wasting himself in increasingly risky games of erotic asphyxiation with one of his mistresses (ex-wife of another detective), machinations to undermine his colleagues, and misanthropic rage: "Criminals, spastics, niggers, strikers, thugs, I don't fucking well care, it all adds up to one thing: something to smash." Even for readers who have mastered Welsh's Scots dialect, such an eloquently nasty narrator can be exhausting. As in the past, Welsh himself sometimes seems rather compromised as a satirist by the glee he takes in his characters' repulsiveness. Yet if this hypnotic chronicle of moral and psychological ruin (funnier and far more accessible than Welsh's last full-length novel, Marabou Stork Nightmares) fails to charm a wide readership, it will not disappoint devotees. Editor, Gerald Howard; author tour. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
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