After a decade of loving Ellis, Süskind, Mills ..and *very* nearly falling in love with Danielewski
I should have guessed how much I’d adore Louise Welsh… and good God I do.
Just before Christmas I found The Cutting Room on a bookshelf. 48 hours, I sat, sofa-bound and still, and devoured each richly, darkly, absorbing page, each twist and turn, watched the mystery ravel, then unravel, all to it’s one line conclusion, that explained everything – subtle, as if in a whisper after a storm of ‘who dunnits’ in the Glasgow underground. the single line explanation is a trick best taught by Mills; he follows the gothica, the foreboding, six words, a line you could easily miss if you were skimming, a warning, never to skim noir.
I had high hope for The Bullet Trick.
It jaunts between the seedy underworld of London, Berlin and Glasgow… being a Berlino-Glasgaphile, this I adore (I’m also a Francophile and a Japanophile and a Finnophile).
It’s dirty Cabaret, and piss soaked glamour, smoke and mirrors. What’s not to love?
Aside from the fact that I didn’t buy the version with the deliciously Sally Bowles cover above, I bought the one with the decidedly chick-litty cover, below…my error