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Manchester Slingback
Jake is a successful 34-year-old man when DI Davey Green arrives to take him back to Manchester, where 15 years ago, Jake ran wild. In Manchester, Jake's friend, Johnny, had been murdered. Now another corpse has been found, and Jake must finally confront the ghosts of despair that haunt him.
272 pages, Paperback
First published April 24, 1998
About the author
Nicholas Blincoe
30 books21 followersBlincoe was born in Rochdale, Lancashire in 1965. After briefly studying art at Middlesex Polytechnic he attended the University of Warwick where he studied Philosophy, gaining a PhD in 1993. The thesis was entitled Depression and Economics. The thesis explored the relationship between political sciences and economic theories, with particular reference to the philosophy of Jacques Derrida.
Blincoe released a Hip-Hop record on Manchester's Factory Records in 1987 and his subsequent relationship with Factory records and the nightclub The Haçienda informed his early work.
In 1995, Blincoe married the Bethlehem Palestinian film-maker Leila Sansour, director of the documentary Jeremy Hardy vs The Israeli Army (2003).
Blincoe has written for British radio and television, including episodes of the BBC TV series Waking The Dead and Channel 4's Goldplated. As a critic and reviewer he has worked for the Modern Review, under the editorship of Toby Young and Julie Burchill. He was a columnist for the London Daily Telegraph until September 2006, writing the weekly 'Marginalia' column.
He is the author of six novels, Acid Casuals (1995), Jello Salad (1997), Manchester Slingback (1998), The Dope Priest (1999), White Mice (2002), Burning Paris (2004). He was a founding member of the New Puritans literary movement and co-edited (with Matt Thorne) the anthology 'All Hail The New Puritans' (2000) which included contributions from Alex Garland, Toby Litt, Geoff Dyer, Daren King, Simon Lewis, and Scarlett Thomas.
Blincoe won the Crime Writer's Association Silver Dagger for his novel Manchester Slingback in 1998. His early novels were crime thrillers set in or around his native Lancashire and the clubs of Manchester.
Some of his more recent novels reflect his life split between homes in London and Bethlehem. He is also a co-editor of a book on the International Solidarity Movement Peace Under Fire: Israel/Palestine and the International Solidarity Movement (2003) with Josie Sandercock, Radhika Sainath, Marissa Mcloughlin, Hussein Khalili, Huwaida Arraf and Ghassan Andoni.
Blincoe released a Hip-Hop record on Manchester's Factory Records in 1987 and his subsequent relationship with Factory records and the nightclub The Haçienda informed his early work.
In 1995, Blincoe married the Bethlehem Palestinian film-maker Leila Sansour, director of the documentary Jeremy Hardy vs The Israeli Army (2003).
Blincoe has written for British radio and television, including episodes of the BBC TV series Waking The Dead and Channel 4's Goldplated. As a critic and reviewer he has worked for the Modern Review, under the editorship of Toby Young and Julie Burchill. He was a columnist for the London Daily Telegraph until September 2006, writing the weekly 'Marginalia' column.
He is the author of six novels, Acid Casuals (1995), Jello Salad (1997), Manchester Slingback (1998), The Dope Priest (1999), White Mice (2002), Burning Paris (2004). He was a founding member of the New Puritans literary movement and co-edited (with Matt Thorne) the anthology 'All Hail The New Puritans' (2000) which included contributions from Alex Garland, Toby Litt, Geoff Dyer, Daren King, Simon Lewis, and Scarlett Thomas.
Blincoe won the Crime Writer's Association Silver Dagger for his novel Manchester Slingback in 1998. His early novels were crime thrillers set in or around his native Lancashire and the clubs of Manchester.
Some of his more recent novels reflect his life split between homes in London and Bethlehem. He is also a co-editor of a book on the International Solidarity Movement Peace Under Fire: Israel/Palestine and the International Solidarity Movement (2003) with Josie Sandercock, Radhika Sainath, Marissa Mcloughlin, Hussein Khalili, Huwaida Arraf and Ghassan Andoni.
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Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews
July 8, 2024
I read this novel twenty years ago and even then I thought it flawed, nowadays I can't imagine anyone reading it, except as a curiosity of vanished times and ways of living. Because it is not badly written I give it two stars - it is wildly better than books I award one star.
The book is looking back on Manchester in the 1980s and the chief constable John Anderton, an absurd bigoted homophobe who remained in office because his reactionary views echoed what Margaret Thatcher believed but couldn't say. Amongst his most notorious statements was that homosexuals, drug addicts and prostitutes who had HIV/AIDS were "swirling in a human cesspit of their own making". Part of 'Manchester Slingback' is the retrospective account of its hero Jack Powell of youth in 1980s Manchester which he returns to in the 1990s to finally expose the real evil doers from that time. The novel's heart is the right place but good polemics don't make for a good novel.
There was a great deal of prejudice spouted by people like John Anderton in the 1980s but there were just as many loud voices denouncing him. There was Clause 28 and the attempts to close down 'Gays The Word' in London (see footnote *1 below) but the UK never had a 'moral majority' or 'Christian right' of any number or power. There was plenty of prejudice but virtually none of it was based on religious belief. To make out that UK gays had a struggle comparable to what went on in the USA with Anita Bryant and many others is absurd. The novel also suffers from Blincoe's attempts to link his 1980s Manchester story into investigations of abuse at care homes happening in the 1990s. It is too much and because of his passionate, and understandable, hatred of people like John Anderton his characters, situations and plot never rise above the two dimensional.
It is extraordinary, and embarrassing, to read now the praise heaped on this slight tale by major Newspaper reviewers in the UK including The Times, Observer and Daily Telegraph. I can not fault the author's good intentions but he has written a mediocre novel.
*1 Clause 28 and the prosecution of Gay's the Word were steps by the Tory government of Margaret Thatcher to wage what we would now think of as a 'Culture War' but, and I don't ignore the problems and pain these actions caused, then were really completely unsuccessful. By the time this novel was published Thatcher was gone and the Conservative party was rapidly backtracking from the moral stance they had taken in the 1980s. By the new millennium those in public life who had supported things like Clause 28 were apologising for their 'youthful errors'. For anyone not from the UK or who is, but is younger than 50, all of this is probably meaningless. But then that is what Google is for.
The book is looking back on Manchester in the 1980s and the chief constable John Anderton, an absurd bigoted homophobe who remained in office because his reactionary views echoed what Margaret Thatcher believed but couldn't say. Amongst his most notorious statements was that homosexuals, drug addicts and prostitutes who had HIV/AIDS were "swirling in a human cesspit of their own making". Part of 'Manchester Slingback' is the retrospective account of its hero Jack Powell of youth in 1980s Manchester which he returns to in the 1990s to finally expose the real evil doers from that time. The novel's heart is the right place but good polemics don't make for a good novel.
There was a great deal of prejudice spouted by people like John Anderton in the 1980s but there were just as many loud voices denouncing him. There was Clause 28 and the attempts to close down 'Gays The Word' in London (see footnote *1 below) but the UK never had a 'moral majority' or 'Christian right' of any number or power. There was plenty of prejudice but virtually none of it was based on religious belief. To make out that UK gays had a struggle comparable to what went on in the USA with Anita Bryant and many others is absurd. The novel also suffers from Blincoe's attempts to link his 1980s Manchester story into investigations of abuse at care homes happening in the 1990s. It is too much and because of his passionate, and understandable, hatred of people like John Anderton his characters, situations and plot never rise above the two dimensional.
It is extraordinary, and embarrassing, to read now the praise heaped on this slight tale by major Newspaper reviewers in the UK including The Times, Observer and Daily Telegraph. I can not fault the author's good intentions but he has written a mediocre novel.
*1 Clause 28 and the prosecution of Gay's the Word were steps by the Tory government of Margaret Thatcher to wage what we would now think of as a 'Culture War' but, and I don't ignore the problems and pain these actions caused, then were really completely unsuccessful. By the time this novel was published Thatcher was gone and the Conservative party was rapidly backtracking from the moral stance they had taken in the 1980s. By the new millennium those in public life who had supported things like Clause 28 were apologising for their 'youthful errors'. For anyone not from the UK or who is, but is younger than 50, all of this is probably meaningless. But then that is what Google is for.
Want to Read
February 8, 2019Synopsis: DI Davey Green arrives to take Jake back to Manchester where 15 years ago he ran wild. Now an old friend of Jake's has been murdered.
December 27, 2018
With this book Nicholas Blincoe cements his position to me as one of those authors whose books sound and look good and then fails to produce the good. Acid Casuals was a total waste of time, and this one is only marginally better. The story is mainly about Jake, a successful London casino manager in his mid-30s. One night, a police inspector from Manchester shows up and coerces him into returning to that city where as a teenager back in 1981 he lived a hedonistic life of drugs and gay sex. It seems that back then, Jake's best friend was murdered, and just a few weeks ago, another friend from the past was found dead.
The story switches back and forth between Jake's present day (1997ish) trip back to Manchester to dig up the dirt, and flashbacks to the days of seedy gay discos and Bowie clones. Clearly, Blincoe is also trying to contrast the gritty old days of Manchester's gay Village with the posh fin-de-millennium redevelopment of the city. Unfortunately, this never really pops off the page to someone who's never been to Manchester. Blincoe is too interested in the flash and sizzle of the past to keep the contemporary story moving, although at the end, as he slowly reveals the crimes of the past and Jake's role in them, the book gets a bit more interesting. However, if you like this stuff, a book with a similar plot, set in San Francisco's gay community in the early '90s, is Agnes Bushell's The Enumerator.
The story switches back and forth between Jake's present day (1997ish) trip back to Manchester to dig up the dirt, and flashbacks to the days of seedy gay discos and Bowie clones. Clearly, Blincoe is also trying to contrast the gritty old days of Manchester's gay Village with the posh fin-de-millennium redevelopment of the city. Unfortunately, this never really pops off the page to someone who's never been to Manchester. Blincoe is too interested in the flash and sizzle of the past to keep the contemporary story moving, although at the end, as he slowly reveals the crimes of the past and Jake's role in them, the book gets a bit more interesting. However, if you like this stuff, a book with a similar plot, set in San Francisco's gay community in the early '90s, is Agnes Bushell's The Enumerator.
January 7, 2026
Jake Powell is a successful casino manager living in London, but fifteen years ago he was part of Manchester’s 1980s gay scene – a vibrant world of pubs, clubs and discos, where rent-boys and hustlers plied their trades in the dark corners. Now Detective Inspector Davey Green has come to remind Jake of those days, and of his best friend Johnny, who vanished one night and has never been seen again. Until now – his body has been found buried on the moors, and DI Green wants Jake's help to find out who killed him and why…
I loved this one, but I do have a couple of criticisms, so let me deal with them first. Structurally it moves around in time, from the present of 1997 to the past of the early 1980s. The present sections are mostly there to allow Jake to look back at his younger self, showing how he may have left his youth behind, but the after-effects and regrets linger, shaping the man he is now. This is all interesting, but it sometimes gets in the way of the more compelling and vivid story of the past.
Secondly, the concept and motivation for Johnny’s murder is overly complicated and a bit messy. In fact, the book reads more like contemporary fiction and it feels as if the crime has been inserted simply as a framework to hang the social history on, while the somewhat conventional thriller ending, though dark in line with the book’s general tone, doesn’t quite fit. However, all the rest more than makes up for these minor flaws.
Jake and his friends exist in a haze of drugs and alcohol, paying their way mostly through petty theft and selling sex. Clothes are everything – these are the Bowie boys, aping their hero’s style as best they can. Discos are where they come alive, strutting their stuff, knowing the sexual power of their beautifully youthful bodies. Beneath this brittle glamour, though, lie tales of trauma – the rejection of families unwilling to accept their sons’ sexuality, sometimes childhood abuse, and the present-day dangers of working in the sex trade, in a society where the police are more likely to side with the perpetrators of homophobic violence than its victims. The mainstream gay scene is shown as thriving and strong, but these boys live on the edges, where even they often can’t tell if they’re users or used. It’s a fascinating picture and felt entirely authentic to me.
Although the plot is fictional, Blincoe has chosen his time period to show the real issues affecting the gay world at that time. Homosexuality is finally legal, but still faces wide prejudice, both from society at large and from the authorities – the Thatcher government passing laws against the ‘promotion’ of homosexuality in schools, and in Manchester specifically, a hardline Chief Constable, James Anderton, nicknamed ‘God’s Copper’, carrying out a personal crusade against sin – prostitution, pornography and the gay scene. This is background, though – Blincoe makes his opinion of Anderton clear through his characters, but he doesn’t get polemical – he allows the story to do the work.
The care homes element of the plot is also based on real scandals of the day. Some of the scenes here are graphic and brutal, and rightly upsetting. Blincoe pulls no punches and, given the book predated most of the later reckoning over these abuses, shows how in reality it was all an open secret to which the authorities deliberately turned a blind eye. It’s a chilling depiction of the powerlessness of the victims.
So there is a fair amount of politics and social history in the book. But there is also a strong story, very well written, with some wonderful characterisation. The boys gain all our sympathy – they may be constantly stoned or drunk, they may commit petty crimes, they may indulge in sordid acts we’d all hope our own sons never would, but they are all living with past and present trauma and looking for some fun, and they often find it. And, as far as they can, they look out for each other, providing a much-needed if rather ineffective support network.
I often have the experience of expecting to love a book and being disappointed, but it’s much rarer to expect to hate a book and end up loving it. A book about the gay scene containing graphic descriptions of sex, with a sub-plot about the sordid and violent sexual abuse of children in care homes? Not my thing! And yet, it turned out to be exactly my thing. The book won the CWA Silver Dagger in 1998, and I’m sure at the time that probably persuaded many people to read it who, like me, might otherwise have been put off by the subject matter. A well-deserved winner, and one that now has an added element of interest in casting a light on attitudes which are, theoretically at least, in the past.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
I loved this one, but I do have a couple of criticisms, so let me deal with them first. Structurally it moves around in time, from the present of 1997 to the past of the early 1980s. The present sections are mostly there to allow Jake to look back at his younger self, showing how he may have left his youth behind, but the after-effects and regrets linger, shaping the man he is now. This is all interesting, but it sometimes gets in the way of the more compelling and vivid story of the past.
Secondly, the concept and motivation for Johnny’s murder is overly complicated and a bit messy. In fact, the book reads more like contemporary fiction and it feels as if the crime has been inserted simply as a framework to hang the social history on, while the somewhat conventional thriller ending, though dark in line with the book’s general tone, doesn’t quite fit. However, all the rest more than makes up for these minor flaws.
Jake and his friends exist in a haze of drugs and alcohol, paying their way mostly through petty theft and selling sex. Clothes are everything – these are the Bowie boys, aping their hero’s style as best they can. Discos are where they come alive, strutting their stuff, knowing the sexual power of their beautifully youthful bodies. Beneath this brittle glamour, though, lie tales of trauma – the rejection of families unwilling to accept their sons’ sexuality, sometimes childhood abuse, and the present-day dangers of working in the sex trade, in a society where the police are more likely to side with the perpetrators of homophobic violence than its victims. The mainstream gay scene is shown as thriving and strong, but these boys live on the edges, where even they often can’t tell if they’re users or used. It’s a fascinating picture and felt entirely authentic to me.
Although the plot is fictional, Blincoe has chosen his time period to show the real issues affecting the gay world at that time. Homosexuality is finally legal, but still faces wide prejudice, both from society at large and from the authorities – the Thatcher government passing laws against the ‘promotion’ of homosexuality in schools, and in Manchester specifically, a hardline Chief Constable, James Anderton, nicknamed ‘God’s Copper’, carrying out a personal crusade against sin – prostitution, pornography and the gay scene. This is background, though – Blincoe makes his opinion of Anderton clear through his characters, but he doesn’t get polemical – he allows the story to do the work.
The care homes element of the plot is also based on real scandals of the day. Some of the scenes here are graphic and brutal, and rightly upsetting. Blincoe pulls no punches and, given the book predated most of the later reckoning over these abuses, shows how in reality it was all an open secret to which the authorities deliberately turned a blind eye. It’s a chilling depiction of the powerlessness of the victims.
So there is a fair amount of politics and social history in the book. But there is also a strong story, very well written, with some wonderful characterisation. The boys gain all our sympathy – they may be constantly stoned or drunk, they may commit petty crimes, they may indulge in sordid acts we’d all hope our own sons never would, but they are all living with past and present trauma and looking for some fun, and they often find it. And, as far as they can, they look out for each other, providing a much-needed if rather ineffective support network.
I often have the experience of expecting to love a book and being disappointed, but it’s much rarer to expect to hate a book and end up loving it. A book about the gay scene containing graphic descriptions of sex, with a sub-plot about the sordid and violent sexual abuse of children in care homes? Not my thing! And yet, it turned out to be exactly my thing. The book won the CWA Silver Dagger in 1998, and I’m sure at the time that probably persuaded many people to read it who, like me, might otherwise have been put off by the subject matter. A well-deserved winner, and one that now has an added element of interest in casting a light on attitudes which are, theoretically at least, in the past.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com
May 25, 2025
Manchester und London in den Jahren 1981 und 1997. Genre: am Rande des Kriminalromangenres: Die Verbrechen sind geschehen, wurden nie richtig geklärt, werden nach Jahren teilweise rekonstruiert, um in (unfairer) Rache auszulaufen.
Eine düstere Geschichte, die irgendwie aber nie richtig erzählt wird. Blincoe, heute verheiratet und, mag sein, damals so bisexuell wie der Protagonist Jake, wird von seiner Vergangenheit in Manchester bei einem Independent-Musiklabel und einer Jugend zwischen Glam Rock, New Wave und Speed gesteuert. Wen Fragen, ob David Bowie in den Siebzigern noch Gott war - oder - selbst da schon - ein verlogener Selbstdarsteller minderen Talents - oder wie swinging die Schwulenbar- und Drogenszene am Busbahnhof in Manchester früher war, eher kalt lassen, wird sich nach diesem Buch nicht wirklich mehr dafür interessieren. Man sollte sich wohl vor Augen halten, dass dieser Roman aus einer Zeit stammt, als ein Buch wie „Trainspotting“ von Irvine Welsh und der von Danny Boyle dann angerichtete Film der ganz heiße Scheiß waren. Durchgeknallt im Dauerexzess, selbstzerstörerisch, Feinde aller Spießer und Polizisten, damals war das in.
Wie ich immer wieder sehen kann, sind Romane die abwechselnd auf zwei Zeitebenen vorgehen, eine eher heikle Angelegenheit. Oft scheint dann die eine Ebene die andere eher zu lähmen, als zu unterstützen. Jake Powell ist 1981 ein 16-jähriger Stricher gewesen, hauste in Manchesters größtem und widerlichsten Betonbunker (heute abgerissen) in einer schwulen WG. Sechzehn Jahre später ist ein fotomodell-schöner Dreißiger aus ihm geworden, verheiratet, ein Spielcasino in Soho leitend. Da rückt ihm der verkrachte Bulle Davey Green auf den Pelz und zwingt ihn dazu, sich noch einmal in seine zerstörte Jugend zu versenken.
Auch damals schon waren die Kontakte mit Green nicht erwünscht. Der Polizist hatte Jake und seinen Kumpel Johnny erpresst, um den Drogenhandel auszuspionieren. Damals hatten Johnny und Jake den armen kleinen Donnelly in ihre Bude aufgenommen. Den hatten sie im Kinderheim fast tot gefickt. Aufgeklärt wurde seinerzeit eigentlich nichts. Die Bullen wollten die schwulen Bargäste fertig machen, hätten sich aber eher um die Pädophilen im Kinderheim kümmern müssen. Da gab es Hallyday, den fundamentalistisch christlichen Polizei-Oberen, der seine schützende Hand übers Waisenhaus hielt und von dem sich Jake zu einer Speed-Party mitnehmen ließ, während Johnny sich darum kümmerte, dreckige Filme für den Heimlehrer zu kopieren.
Der im Roman steckende Krimi-Plot ist brutal, aber besonders komplex ist er nicht. Kommt hinzu, dass sich Blincoe dafür entschieden hat, wie für eine Schnitzeljagd von Anfang an Hinweise auf die viel später erst erzählten Brutalitäten zu streuen, sodass man sich eigentlich längst ausmalen kann, was noch kommt, bevor es dann irgendwann doch noch kommt. Nicholas Blincoe möchte, auch das so ähnlich wie in „Trainspotting“, uns Leser in die seelische Zerbrochenheit seiner „Helden“ hinein nehmen. Green, aber auch Jake, haben Drogen, Paranoia und Missbrauch nicht heil überlebt. Was leider dazu führt, dass nichts, aber auch gar nichts, plan und einfach so wegerzählt werden kann. Jedes Bild muss einen störenden Blitzer oder Kratzer dabei haben. Und sei das auch bloß der Bahnhofspappbecher, der einem die Hose mit heißem Kaffee versaut. Und nachdem an die glorreichen Tage von „ihr“, einer Transe, der eine Bar gehörte, erinnert worden ist, lernt man sie kennen – und sie ist ein früh gealtertes, kahlköpfiges, wimmerndes Dickerchen.
Meines Erachtens ist Nicholas Blincoe hier viel zu oft einem Air von cooler Cleverness hinterher, das ihn und seine Geschichte überfordert. Dieses Buch stört einen, kann schon sein, aber es nervt einen auch und ist vielleicht nur schaler Kaffee.
Eine düstere Geschichte, die irgendwie aber nie richtig erzählt wird. Blincoe, heute verheiratet und, mag sein, damals so bisexuell wie der Protagonist Jake, wird von seiner Vergangenheit in Manchester bei einem Independent-Musiklabel und einer Jugend zwischen Glam Rock, New Wave und Speed gesteuert. Wen Fragen, ob David Bowie in den Siebzigern noch Gott war - oder - selbst da schon - ein verlogener Selbstdarsteller minderen Talents - oder wie swinging die Schwulenbar- und Drogenszene am Busbahnhof in Manchester früher war, eher kalt lassen, wird sich nach diesem Buch nicht wirklich mehr dafür interessieren. Man sollte sich wohl vor Augen halten, dass dieser Roman aus einer Zeit stammt, als ein Buch wie „Trainspotting“ von Irvine Welsh und der von Danny Boyle dann angerichtete Film der ganz heiße Scheiß waren. Durchgeknallt im Dauerexzess, selbstzerstörerisch, Feinde aller Spießer und Polizisten, damals war das in.
Wie ich immer wieder sehen kann, sind Romane die abwechselnd auf zwei Zeitebenen vorgehen, eine eher heikle Angelegenheit. Oft scheint dann die eine Ebene die andere eher zu lähmen, als zu unterstützen. Jake Powell ist 1981 ein 16-jähriger Stricher gewesen, hauste in Manchesters größtem und widerlichsten Betonbunker (heute abgerissen) in einer schwulen WG. Sechzehn Jahre später ist ein fotomodell-schöner Dreißiger aus ihm geworden, verheiratet, ein Spielcasino in Soho leitend. Da rückt ihm der verkrachte Bulle Davey Green auf den Pelz und zwingt ihn dazu, sich noch einmal in seine zerstörte Jugend zu versenken.
Auch damals schon waren die Kontakte mit Green nicht erwünscht. Der Polizist hatte Jake und seinen Kumpel Johnny erpresst, um den Drogenhandel auszuspionieren. Damals hatten Johnny und Jake den armen kleinen Donnelly in ihre Bude aufgenommen. Den hatten sie im Kinderheim fast tot gefickt. Aufgeklärt wurde seinerzeit eigentlich nichts. Die Bullen wollten die schwulen Bargäste fertig machen, hätten sich aber eher um die Pädophilen im Kinderheim kümmern müssen. Da gab es Hallyday, den fundamentalistisch christlichen Polizei-Oberen, der seine schützende Hand übers Waisenhaus hielt und von dem sich Jake zu einer Speed-Party mitnehmen ließ, während Johnny sich darum kümmerte, dreckige Filme für den Heimlehrer zu kopieren.
Der im Roman steckende Krimi-Plot ist brutal, aber besonders komplex ist er nicht. Kommt hinzu, dass sich Blincoe dafür entschieden hat, wie für eine Schnitzeljagd von Anfang an Hinweise auf die viel später erst erzählten Brutalitäten zu streuen, sodass man sich eigentlich längst ausmalen kann, was noch kommt, bevor es dann irgendwann doch noch kommt. Nicholas Blincoe möchte, auch das so ähnlich wie in „Trainspotting“, uns Leser in die seelische Zerbrochenheit seiner „Helden“ hinein nehmen. Green, aber auch Jake, haben Drogen, Paranoia und Missbrauch nicht heil überlebt. Was leider dazu führt, dass nichts, aber auch gar nichts, plan und einfach so wegerzählt werden kann. Jedes Bild muss einen störenden Blitzer oder Kratzer dabei haben. Und sei das auch bloß der Bahnhofspappbecher, der einem die Hose mit heißem Kaffee versaut. Und nachdem an die glorreichen Tage von „ihr“, einer Transe, der eine Bar gehörte, erinnert worden ist, lernt man sie kennen – und sie ist ein früh gealtertes, kahlköpfiges, wimmerndes Dickerchen.
Meines Erachtens ist Nicholas Blincoe hier viel zu oft einem Air von cooler Cleverness hinterher, das ihn und seine Geschichte überfordert. Dieses Buch stört einen, kann schon sein, aber es nervt einen auch und ist vielleicht nur schaler Kaffee.
February 22, 2020
Back in the '90s there was a new cohort of young (male) writers, who came of age in the 80s: Jeff Noon, James Hawes, Michael Bracewell, Ben Richards, Paul Magrs, Martin Millar, who set about writing novels of the here and now, of the counter culture, the underworld, sex and drugs and clubs, the things that young people did, not socialist fiction or the melancholy people-in-north-London-having-affairs stories of the LitFic crowd. Nicholas Blincoe can be added to this list, specifically this 1990s-published tale of life in the early '80s.
The novel features Jake, a bisexual teenager, who, 16 years later has to return to his home town from his new life in London to help solve the murder of a rent-boy he once knew. His odd-couple partner in this quest is the old-school, homophobic, fairly unpleasant cop Davey Green, who served under God-squad Chief of Police, James Anderton, who wanted to clean up the prossies and puffs and porn of Manchester, but didn't want to do anything about the child abuse taking places in children's homes. Blincoe has obviously read some Chandler and tries to adapt his hardboiled style to the Manchester gay scene, with mixed results. The action zips between 1981 and 1997 as we come to see exactly how much culpability Jake had in the murder of this friend.
The novel features Jake, a bisexual teenager, who, 16 years later has to return to his home town from his new life in London to help solve the murder of a rent-boy he once knew. His odd-couple partner in this quest is the old-school, homophobic, fairly unpleasant cop Davey Green, who served under God-squad Chief of Police, James Anderton, who wanted to clean up the prossies and puffs and porn of Manchester, but didn't want to do anything about the child abuse taking places in children's homes. Blincoe has obviously read some Chandler and tries to adapt his hardboiled style to the Manchester gay scene, with mixed results. The action zips between 1981 and 1997 as we come to see exactly how much culpability Jake had in the murder of this friend.
January 24, 2022
A struggle
July 28, 2024
Fantastic debut and a great start of what he wrote later which was even more impressive. Expect a rave culture, and thriller in that culture taking place
March 1, 2026
Couldn’t put this one down. Exhilarating and addicting novel that grabbed me instantly.
March 9, 2021
A good earthy novel of 1980's Manchester touching on what at the time were taboo topics but nowadays are the focus of a lot of investigstions
February 24, 2016
Fantastic book - loved the setting in Manchester's gay village. The story was both gripping and shocking.
Displaying 1 - 11 of 11 reviews