What a jolly festive read, right? Not seen the movie (gasp), so this is a long overdue time spent with Trainspotting. One thing that has to be said off the bat: Scottish or not, this is not a book for reading with a sore head. Christ, I tried, but it hurt.
Trainspotting is another dark and twisted wonder from Irvine Welsh that follows a group of skag boys who are at times relateable, and other times strangely likeable. Despite being criminals and addicts, it kind of shows that they are human too.
It’s pretty mental, let’s face it. Shagging 14 year old girls or dead brother’s pregnant fiancées, digging through shit for drugs that were accidentally crapped out and parents intervening to get their fucked up kids to go cold turkey.
And while some of it is laugh out loud funny, with Welsh’s humour and wit being completely on point, it takes a really dark twist in the latter part. People are dying and getting sick all around, and Rents decides to try kick the habit and choose life.
The Scottish dialect will put some people off, and the actual content would alienate others (but then again, you’d probably be alienated by most of Welsh’s work in that case), but it’s a really good book. It’s dark and funny, even with the most twisted characters.