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fictionfan's review against another edition
5.0
A love letter to a city…
Tony Veitch has disappeared and it seems like half the city is looking for him. Laidlaw’s one of the searchers. He knows why he’s looking for Tony – his name’s come up in connection with Eck Adamson, a drunk and down-and-out, now dead; and it seems Laidlaw’s the only man who cares. But Laidlaw doesn’t know why some of Glasgow’s hardest men seem to be wanting to find Veitch too, and the question is – who’ll find him first?
After being stunned by the first in the trilogy, [b:Laidlaw|17620813|Laidlaw|William McIlvanney|https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1363518656s/17620813.jpg|937081], I approached this with some caution, for fear it couldn’t match up. But it does. We’re back in Laidlaw’s world - a good man trying to make sense of the hard and violent world he inhabits, trying to find justice for the people left on the margins. He’s not a loner, exactly, but he stands a little apart from the world – an observer with a compassionate eye, a philosopher. He’s not a team player – how could anyone live up to the exacting standards he sets? Even he continually fails to be the man he’d like to be, and his self-awareness won’t let him hide from that.
One was young and pretty, made up as colourfully as a butterfly. The other was older. She had been pretty. Now she was better than that. She looked mid to late thirties and as if she hadn’t wasted the time. She had eyes that suggested you might find Ali Baba’s cave behind them, if you knew the password, and had managed to arrive before the Forty Thieves.
The language is wonderful. It slips in and out of dialect seamlessly and the dialogue catches the tone and patterns of Glaswegian speech in a way I’ve never come across before. I can hear these people speak – hear the humour and the bravado and the aggression. He shows beautifully the odd mix of the Glaswegian character, with its kindness that must always be kept carefully hidden for fear of seeming soft. His villains are frighteningly hard without ever tipping over into caricature, and the ever-present threat of violence is chillingly believable.
“Coulda made something o’ himself. But a luckless man. All his days a luckless man. The kinna man woulda got two complimentary tickets for the Titanic.” The unintentional humour of her remark was like her natural appetite for life reasserting itself. Harkness couldn’t stop smiling. It was as if Glasgow couldn’t shut the wryness of its mouth even at the edge of the grave.
The plotting is complex and takes a different direction than the reader is at first led to expect. Tony is from a privileged background, in the financial sense, though not perhaps in terms of love. But somehow he’s got himself mixed up with the underworld of gangs and hardmen and now his life seems to be in danger. As Laidlaw hunts for him, the reader gradually gets to see different aspects of Glaswegian society, from Tony’s rich, successful but cold father to the gangsters dispensing their own form of justice towards anyone they feel has betrayed them.
From his vantage point in Ruchill Park, Laidlaw looked out over the city. He could see so much of it from here and still it baffled him. ‘What is this place?’ he thought.
A small and great city, his mind answered. A city with its face against the wind. That made it grimace. But did it have to be so hard? Sometimes it felt so hard…It was a place so kind it would batter cruelty into the ground. And what circumstances kept giving it was cruelty. No wonder he loved it. It danced among its own debris. When Glasgow gave up, the world could call it a day.
But oddly, what this story is most about is love. The love of a sister for the brother who has fallen through life’s cracks into alcoholism and vagrancy. The love of a son which leads him to try to protect his parents from learning the truth about his brother. The love for a woman, which can lead a man to destroy his life. And most of all, the love of a city – the clear-sighted, complicated yet profound love that Laidlaw has for this place of contradictions where kindness and cruelty meet head-on. Glasgow, as the sum of its people good and bad, is the character that is at the heart of the book and McIlvanney makes us weep and rejoice for it in equal measure. A love letter from a man who sees the violence and darkness of the city, but also sees it as a place of courage and heart and humour - and ultimately integrity. A great book that gets my highest recommendation.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
Tony Veitch has disappeared and it seems like half the city is looking for him. Laidlaw’s one of the searchers. He knows why he’s looking for Tony – his name’s come up in connection with Eck Adamson, a drunk and down-and-out, now dead; and it seems Laidlaw’s the only man who cares. But Laidlaw doesn’t know why some of Glasgow’s hardest men seem to be wanting to find Veitch too, and the question is – who’ll find him first?
After being stunned by the first in the trilogy, [b:Laidlaw|17620813|Laidlaw|William McIlvanney|https://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1363518656s/17620813.jpg|937081], I approached this with some caution, for fear it couldn’t match up. But it does. We’re back in Laidlaw’s world - a good man trying to make sense of the hard and violent world he inhabits, trying to find justice for the people left on the margins. He’s not a loner, exactly, but he stands a little apart from the world – an observer with a compassionate eye, a philosopher. He’s not a team player – how could anyone live up to the exacting standards he sets? Even he continually fails to be the man he’d like to be, and his self-awareness won’t let him hide from that.
One was young and pretty, made up as colourfully as a butterfly. The other was older. She had been pretty. Now she was better than that. She looked mid to late thirties and as if she hadn’t wasted the time. She had eyes that suggested you might find Ali Baba’s cave behind them, if you knew the password, and had managed to arrive before the Forty Thieves.
The language is wonderful. It slips in and out of dialect seamlessly and the dialogue catches the tone and patterns of Glaswegian speech in a way I’ve never come across before. I can hear these people speak – hear the humour and the bravado and the aggression. He shows beautifully the odd mix of the Glaswegian character, with its kindness that must always be kept carefully hidden for fear of seeming soft. His villains are frighteningly hard without ever tipping over into caricature, and the ever-present threat of violence is chillingly believable.
“Coulda made something o’ himself. But a luckless man. All his days a luckless man. The kinna man woulda got two complimentary tickets for the Titanic.” The unintentional humour of her remark was like her natural appetite for life reasserting itself. Harkness couldn’t stop smiling. It was as if Glasgow couldn’t shut the wryness of its mouth even at the edge of the grave.
The plotting is complex and takes a different direction than the reader is at first led to expect. Tony is from a privileged background, in the financial sense, though not perhaps in terms of love. But somehow he’s got himself mixed up with the underworld of gangs and hardmen and now his life seems to be in danger. As Laidlaw hunts for him, the reader gradually gets to see different aspects of Glaswegian society, from Tony’s rich, successful but cold father to the gangsters dispensing their own form of justice towards anyone they feel has betrayed them.
From his vantage point in Ruchill Park, Laidlaw looked out over the city. He could see so much of it from here and still it baffled him. ‘What is this place?’ he thought.
A small and great city, his mind answered. A city with its face against the wind. That made it grimace. But did it have to be so hard? Sometimes it felt so hard…It was a place so kind it would batter cruelty into the ground. And what circumstances kept giving it was cruelty. No wonder he loved it. It danced among its own debris. When Glasgow gave up, the world could call it a day.
But oddly, what this story is most about is love. The love of a sister for the brother who has fallen through life’s cracks into alcoholism and vagrancy. The love of a son which leads him to try to protect his parents from learning the truth about his brother. The love for a woman, which can lead a man to destroy his life. And most of all, the love of a city – the clear-sighted, complicated yet profound love that Laidlaw has for this place of contradictions where kindness and cruelty meet head-on. Glasgow, as the sum of its people good and bad, is the character that is at the heart of the book and McIlvanney makes us weep and rejoice for it in equal measure. A love letter from a man who sees the violence and darkness of the city, but also sees it as a place of courage and heart and humour - and ultimately integrity. A great book that gets my highest recommendation.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
searlait_carolinehoey's review against another edition
dark
emotional
mysterious
reflective
tense
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.25
arrianne's review against another edition
5.0
More murders in Glasgow; more Glaswegian humour and landmarks.
I really like this series for being a bit more insightful and a bit more about the people, the place and the whodunnit aspects rather than being all about the science like some crime novels.
I really like this series for being a bit more insightful and a bit more about the people, the place and the whodunnit aspects rather than being all about the science like some crime novels.
jakewritesbooks's review against another edition
3.0
This is yet another series where I'm going to want it to be something it's not and I'm never going to enjoy it in a way that I feel like I should. Love the main character of Laidlaw and the 70s Glasgow setting. Like the dialogue. But the alternating chapters bit doesn't work. McIlvanney is trying to make a broader commentary on Scottish society. I appreciate it but that, combined with the stilted plotting and weak characterization makes it difficult to engage with or really appreciate.
fionaaaaaa's review against another edition
3.0
You can hear Glasgow coming alive. An ok book. Not as gritty or as dark as i like. But ok.
ellsoquent's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
timsa9cd0's review against another edition
3.5
Second of the Laidlaw trilogy set in Glasgow in the 70s. The “father of tartan noir” (being, among other things, the inspiration for Ian Rankin and his Rebus mysteries set in Edinburgh). McIlvanney, who died in 2015 (age 79), was a novelist and a poet and wrote “only” the 3 mysteries (the first in 1977 and the last in 1991). Jack Laidlaw, our cop hero, is a university philosophy drop out, holds firmly to his ideals while aching about the sad state of humanity. A death of a wino, Eck, demands the same vigilance in Laidlaw's eyes, as the death of any high roller. His colleagues roll their eyes instead, but are nonetheless in awe of Laidlaw. Eck is dead, and will Jack be able to save the rich kid (a reflection of his youthful self) from the bad ass mobsters of Glasgow? It's a bit much, but not too much. I have the final book, Strange Loyalties, in waiting.
arrianne's review against another edition
5.0
More murders in Glasgow; more Glaswegian humour and landmarks.
I really like this series for being a bit more insightful and a bit more about the people, the place and the whodunnit aspects rather than being all about the science like some crime novels.
I really like this series for being a bit more insightful and a bit more about the people, the place and the whodunnit aspects rather than being all about the science like some crime novels.
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