A normal weekend in 21st Century urban Britain: binge-drinking, pill-popping, football, sex, loneliness, Sunday roasts, violence, hurt, boredom, love, redemption. All under the encroaching shadow of Monday morning. Weekender follows various Edinburgh residents over the course of one weekend and ten very different tales, moving from one character to the next as their paths cross. Not too short, not too long, just right. Simple and complex, elegant yet brutal, depressing whilst also uplifting, Weekender is all things to all men. Enjoy, and remember – a lot can happen in a weekend…
The key thing about Weekender is not to be deceived by the first couple of chapters into thinking it's just another Irvine Welsh copycat. Sure, Roland Tye's book descends into the mire of Edinburgh's seedy underside quite a bit, but this is a multi-faceted view of the city. Here, in addition to sex and violence, you'll find generosity, love, friendship, and – above all – redemption. Because Weekender is (I suspect), not only a novel, but an account of a journey from darkness into light. Who knows – perhaps even Tye's own journey?
The structure of the book is intriguing. Each chapter centres on a character in the book, whom we follow until the end when he or she collides with someone who then becomes the central figure in the next chapter. It's a format I've seen before in Annie Proux's Accordion Crimes, and long ago in the movie Winchester 73, but it's fresh enoough that for most readers this will be new. What's a little special is that at the end, it transpires that many of the characters are linked.
Readers will end the book having favourite characters. My stickout was Mr Palavar, although I liked Anthony, too, who sounded as though he might be the author himself. They seem real, these people – flawed yet with saving graces (in most cases). And it's an intensely moral book. Read it see what I mean.