Few books fulfil the promise of their titles so graphically as Filth by Irvine Welsh says Alan Taylor (9 August ). Yes, things are going badly for this utterly corrupt tribune of the law, but in an Irvine Welsh novel nothing is ever so bad that it can’t get a whole lot worse. Filth. Irvine Welsh, Author W. W. Norton & Company $ (p) ISBN Welsh begins with a detective’s investigation into a murder–the death of a Ghanaian.

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Bruce hates everything and everyone and his only joy left is making people’s live hell around him with perfectly planned scheming. Like this promotion he’s going for. It doesn’t really matter how long it took: What they are is rocks to navigate the past, each on your brush against, ripping you a little more open and they are always more on the horizon.

The novel begins by introducing the murder of Efan Wurie, a case Bruce has been assigned.

Filth by Irvine Welsh

Aug 20, Lily S. Dixon of Dock Green must be turning in his grave. Filth by Irvine Welsh. Racist, sexist, coke-addled, perverted, etc etc etc. I came out of the theatre speechless, I had no idea what to make of it or think.

I ken this because I got a sketch of what he had up on his VDU when he went to answer a private phone-call in the quiet anteroom from his office.

Retrieved from ” https: View all 29 comments. You sure don’t empathize with him because you’re a decent human being who’s probably been sheltered from this kind of guys and lived surrounded by smiles and happiness. I shouldnae have said that. Sorry Toalie, but it’s not the Bruce Robertson style.

Can you say “Gimmick”? Possibly, otherwise he might not have known of this short-cut. Welsn the mark of a good book He would look in the mirror, desperately looking for what everybody else saw in him that was so ‘wrong’, so ‘sick’, so ‘filthy’.

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I’m just the ultimate tease. I have no scaffy friends. For me, THIS was the most intriguing part of the story. Like I was nothing. Our protagonist, Bruce is a cop whose life is in ruins, his wife left him, he drinks, takes drugs and fucks whores, on top of that there is eczema all over his privates and a tapeworm in his guts.

Gorman Iain De Caestecker Because while I’m glad Welsn grabbed these book, I’m just ecstatic about the fact that I can finally put it down and stop reading about the pure gross-ness behind the adventures of a Mr.

Maybe we’re getting in touch with our condition at last. We all know that there are certain places you shouldn’t go to in a strange city after dark, Toal raises his thick, straggly eyebrows, slipping back into his showboating mode, – places like dark alleys where the ambience of such surroundings might incite even a reasonable person to perpetrate an evil deed.

I love Irvine’s style and his straight fowardness.

The Scottish dialect is easy to get used to, and adds so much to the authenticity and grit to the story. I kid you not.

Connections Featured in Showreel: It made me laugh, cringe and frown at some of the ridiculous stuff that happened in it. Rare are the schoolboys who like their in-jokes as much filhh Irvine Welsh.

Goofs In the bedroom at Ocky’s flat, Bruce lifts the inhaler and the dark blue cap is on, but he immediately snaps it up and takes a puff without removing the cap.

This book is NOT for everyone, but it’s amazing. He was found on Playfair Steps at around five o’clock this morning by council refuse ivrine. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up.

Thieving, rape, drugs. And that’s just the police

As his younger brother was basked in attention and love, Bruce was abused, ignored and even forced to eat coal. When did this happen? We know that they only want to sell us something we don’t really want and keep from us what we really do irvin. It could, for example, have real worms, or lice or maggots, eating their way through its pages rather than the imaginary one which is gobbling up the novel’s protagonist, Detective Sergeant Bruce Robertson, gnawing away at him like the Ebola virus.

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DS Robertson is the ‘filth’ in question, a member of the Lothians and Borders police force, with whom irvlne novelist enjoys, at best, an ambivalent relationship.

This is Toal we are talking about here. Robertson is a Machiavellianintensely misanthropic man who spends his time indulging in cocaine and alcohol abuse, sexually abusive relationships, compulsive gorging on junk food, and, most of all, his penchant for “the games” — Bruce’s euphemism for the myriad foul plots he hatches directed at workmates.

But you can’t face up to the that, so you force yourself to believe the bullshit of those you instinctively know are liars and you repeat those lies to yourself and to others, hoping that by repeating them often and fervently enough you’ll attain the godlike status we accord those who tell the lies most frequently and most passionately. I feel a bit light, then it’s like my brain starts to birl in my head sending my thoughts and emotions cascading around.

Le cose che lui pensava, io le pensavo, e il suo odio lo condivido per certi versi. He’s passing them around and looking like a spare prick at a hoors’ convention as Toal starts his brief.

Sometimes, aye, you get your wee zones of relative freedom to retreat into, those weldh, delicate spaces where new things, different, better iirvine can be perceived of as possibles.