The Friday snatchabook bagged two. One of the pair would surely work. And sure enough we found ourself settling in at once with Iain Banks’s Stonemouth which was full of crime but not a – you know – crime novel for those of you who think there are too many police procedures cranking through this mildly interesting blog. The eponym would be a Scottish town somewhere up the coast from Aberdeen where two families have the drug trade sewed up even as North Sea oil has generously replaced the fishing trade. Stewart, the narrator, is a man in his twenties who, through his own screwup, has managed to run horribly afoul of the larger and nastier of the families but who has been allowed a pass to return to Stonemouth for a funeral.
The language is Scottish, which to our thick ear, is way more comprehensible than the underclass Australian we had to hack through in the Peter Temple a couple of weeks ago. We liked Stonemouth well enough that we’ll be digging up other Bankses as soon as we finish Breaking Point, the C.J. Box that was the insurance thriller in the bag. It’s kind of fun. The villains are top level EPA officials.