Fags and Lager by
Charlie Williams
pbk out June 05
(Serpent's Tail)
at £7.99
Charlie Williams, clearly working to subvert my contention (reviews passim)
that he has one of the most instantly identifiable styles in UK crime fiction,
kicks off each chapter (save one) in his new book, with a news story from an
unidentified local newspaper. It's a futile effort of course. Steve Dowie, Crime
Editor, writes like no crime editor ever wrote (and survived into print) and, as
the narrative proper gets under way, there is no doubt where we are. " I had
me eye on her the minute she stepped around the corner up yonder and
began wending her way Blakeward."
Yup, we're back in Mangel and it is the self-reverential Royston Blake
speaking, Head Doorman that is, (and Manager) of Hoppers, Mangel's
"premier piss house." All is not well at Hopper's. There is a new breed of
strangely distant punter about and takings are well down. But Blake is on a
promise of 400 cans of out-of-date lager and 400 Bennies (Benson and
Hedges to you and me) if he can locate Mona, Doug the shop-keeper's errant
daughter. His mind, therefore, is not completely on the job. And as the
situation escalates, Blake has to call upon his every instinct for mindless
violence, at one point hilariously invoking the spirit of an incongruously
Midlands inflected Clint Eastwood.
It's a convoluted tale, and if you and I find it convoluted, what chance does
Mangel's most prominent local citizen have? As a result the book loses some
of its focus around the mid-point. But compensation comes in the form of
steadily expanding picture of Royston the man, even revealing the oddly
tender soul that lurks within the rough exterior ("if I knocks a bird down, I'll
always help her up again").
300-odd pages of squalor, f-, s- and c- words, extreme violence and drugs,
the odd hint of perversity, monstrous sly humour and all with no redeeming
social message whatsoever. Whilst through it all strides the probing
intelligence of Royston Blake. What more could you possibly want?
Fags and Lager by
Charlie Williams
