Three Tales of Chemical Romance is a collection of three stories:Lorraine Goes to LivingstoneFortune's Always Hiding: A Corporate RomanceThe Undefeated: An Acid House RomanceLorraine Goes to Livingstone is a strangely feminist story - an 'historical (read: trashy) romance' writer, Rebecca, suffers a stroke and ends up in hospital, striking up an initially one-sided friendship with a sexually confused young Scottish nurse, Lorraine. Rebecca's writing style changes drastically- her work including graphic homosexuality and bestiality rather than the soft-core pornographic writing styles atypical of those sorts of books, and her husband and her editor don't like a lick of it. Whilst the 'main' part of this story is the slipping into the depraved from Rebecca's writing and her and Lorraine's budding friendship, there's the necrophiliac in the basement paying the staff to look the other way.The necrophiliac aspect of the story has created more interest since the outing of British kids' show host, Jimmy Savile, as a pædophile and a rumoured (unable to ever be confirmable) necrophiliac. There is a bit of an uncanny resemblance between the two, but come on- this was written in 1996, and the truth about Savile came out in 2012. Whilst I admire Irvine Welsh, I don't think he's a prophet. But if you don't get into the conspiratorial side of things, this is nicely written, and I personally enjoyed the parody-of-sorts of the historical romance style of writing.Fortune's Always Hiding is about an ultra-violent guy with a foul mouth (seriously, you'll be sick to death of the 'c' word by the end of this part) who meets a girl with severely deformed arms. The drug, Tenezadrine, is a thinly disguised version of the anti-nausea slash morning sickness medication from the 1960's called Thalidomide, which caused a generation of children with deformed limbs, quite often being the arms. In Fortune's Alway's Hiding, the focus is on Samantha, a young woman with what are described as being similar to flippers, and her desire for revenge against the man who put the drug on the market and affected so many lives in such a negative fashion. The romance aspect is quite cute, with the slight 'angst' aspect from Samantha, who wonders if the relationship is a fake in the beginning. The blood aspect, well, it's really up to the individual if they can stomach the imagery in the beginning of a baby getting its limbs cut off.The Undefeated is about a down-and-out druggie and a sexually frustrated woman stuck in a loveless (at least to her) marriage. It's definitely the slowest of the three, being mostly lead-up to when the two, Lloyd and Heather, meet. Lloyd's a bit of a fowl-mouth (once again favouring the 'c' word, but that seems to be a fairly commonly used word amongst people in that culture), and frankly he's the sort of loser-character you expect to find in an Irvine Welsh novel. Someone human, filled to the brim with flaws. Heather's a fairly typical woman, stuck in a stupid marriage with a stupid man that can only get himself off and having a stupid job that she hates. Basically, her life is unfortunately typical, and she hates it.I adore Welsh's writing style, and I can't fathom people who claim not to be able to understand a single word of it. Whilst I struggle with a couple of words from time to time, you can gather the words you're not 100% sure of based purely on context, or by sounding it out in your head (that's right, become a three year old learning to read). It's strangely fun, and the challenge, to me, adds another layer of enjoyment to reading.
This is not the type of book I would normally read, but the bold, ballsy cover art seduced me and I was hooked. Before 'Ecstasy' I'd never read an Irvine Welsh book but had flirted with the idea for a number of years. Considering the number of successful film adaptations his novels have spawned (think Danny Boyle's 'Trainspotting' or most recently 'Filth') I didn't doubt Welsh's talent but more the confrontational nature of his graphic and typically grotesque subject matter. With this book however, I actually enjoyed basking in the filth with his hapless, selfish stoned protagonists, and although I never rooted for any one character, I did pity many of them, thus eliciting some sort of necessary empathy to justify reading on. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would be reading - and almost enjoying - stories of illicit drugs, explicit and unsatisfactory sex, masturbation, bestiality, necrophilia, rape, disability, mutilation, thuggery and divorce. I have to admit I was intensely sickened at times by Welsh's brazen, shamelessly intimate detailing of sexual intercourse (not because I'm a prude, but because many of the sexual experiences in the novel were immensely unromantic/borderline violent) but I was so fascinated by every characters pathetic predicament that I could overlook it most times. Welsh's voice is commendably unapologetic, and once I got my head around the intensely Scottish pronunciations (think J.K.Rowling's Hagrid dialogue on steroids) I settled into the disgusting world of his characters with morbid fascination and awe. This trilogy of drug-fuelled romance is so well written. The tone is honest, bold and urgent, and like a good, hearty slap to the face, necessary. I stepped outside of my comfort zone with this novel and I'm so glad I did. Once you get over the initial shock of it all and try to shake off the guilty feeling you have while reading it (like you're watching pornography or something) let the eloquent and sophisticated writing style immerse you in the deliciously smutty world that is 'Ecstasy'... And then have a cold shower! ;)
What do You think about Ecstasy (1999)?
(...)«Ti sei beccato una botta di Tenente pilota alla grande, Lloyd», ride Stevo.E' vero. Me lo sono beccato.Per calmarmi comincio a preparare le fragole da primo chef, che nella mia testa è diventata una specie di missione urgente. Non perché sono fatto fino a quel punto, ma perché ho in testa un vuoto, uno spazio che se non mi do do da da fare con queste frago mi si riempie di brutti pensieri, e il segreto consiste nell'usare delicatamente questo coltello affilato per infilzare qualcunoEhNo no no vaffanculo il segreto consiste in perché l'ho detto no no nessun brutto pensiero si può spiegare, il che li peggiora ancora di più, bisogna soltanto ignorarli, perché ciò che si fa con il coltello consiste semplicemente nel togliere la parte bianca dalle fragole e riempire il risultante buco con cream cheese di cappella di quello cheVaffanculoNon so se lo penso o lo dico o tutte e due le cose insieme, però certe volte si riesce a dire una cosa mentre se ne pensa un'altra. Quindi, se lo sto dicendo, se lo sto dicendo sul serio ad alta voce, che cosa sto pensando? Eh? Ahà!«Sentite, stavo menandola con le fragole, cioè, ne stavo parlando a voce alta?» chiedo.«Stavi pensando a voce alta», mi fa Stevo.Pensando. Ecco che cosa stavo facendo, ma stavo pensando a voce alta? Questi stronzi mi prendono per il culo, ma ci vuole ben più di una tavoletta di LSD per mandare in tilt il vecchio Lloyd Buist qui presente, cazzo, te lo dico gratis compagno dei sette mari. «Pensavo ad alta voce», dico o penso.Lo dico perché Claire fa: «Psicosi da droga, Lloyd, ecco cos'è. Il primo segno».Mi limito a ridere e continuo a ripetere: «Psicosi da droga psicosi da droga psicosi da droga».«Tra l'altro, Lloyd, non ci importa se ti sei mangiato tutte le fragole», fa Amanda.Guardo il cestello e sicuro come il cazzo ecco lì evidentissimo quel che resta delle fragole, buccia eccetera, ma i frutti ancora interi brillano per la loro assenza. Sei una gran fogna, Lloyd, penso tra me.«Sei una gran fogna, Lloyd», dice Claire.«Vaffanculo, Claire, stavo proprio pensando le stesse parole... è telepatia... oppure le ho dette... questo acido va letteralmente pazzo per le fragole, le ho mangiate tutte...»Comincio ad andare un po' in crisi. Sta di fatto che una volta consumate le fragole ho perso il mio strumento di viaggio nello spazio-tempo. Le fragole erano la mia macchina dello spazio-tempo; no troppo semplice, troppo banale, lasciamo perdere questa linea di pensiero e ricominciamo d'accapo: le fragole erano il mio mezzo di trasporto da questa dimensione o condizione ad un'altra. Senza fragole sono condannato a vivere nel loro mondo di merda il che non va affatto bene perché senza allucinazioni di natura visiva e uditiva l'acido è abbastanza una cagata; cioè, allora tanto vale essere stroppiato sbronzo di pisciobirra, regalando profitti ai birrai e al partito consevatore, che è precisamente quello che si fa ogni volta che ci si accosta alle labbra un bicchiere di quella merda, ma senza le allucinazioni l'unico vantaggio che si ha con il vecchio acciido è il Tenente pilota che è ancora meglio che bere perché uno sembra semplicemente una testa di cazzo muso triste lì seduto a bere il depressore detto birra quindi vaffanculo quello che serve a me sono le FRAGOLE...(...)
—Alberto
Ecstasy was a fantastic read. I was constantly entertained by the plethora of quirky characters from each of the three stories. There are three stories which are interconnected only through their theme of love. It's not the super romantic love in romance novels. The love in these stories comes off as more realistic, the truth of the kind of love many experience in their lives, happy and sad. Each of the three stories stand on their own, so in a way this a lucky find because you get to read three fantastic in one book. Welsh is a master at writing the perspectives of different characters, as can also be seen in his novel Trainspotting. There is just such complexity to each person he creates, even with minor characters you get a good picture of the type of people they are, especially with the introspection of the main characters. Within each story is a lot of ideas about the world people are in and certain parts of the stories can really make you rethink your stance on certain situations. No matter what this book will keep you entertained!
—Amanda Pagano
My first duff Welsh. This smacks of someone trying to cement their enfant terrible reputation: -What's that? You want anal sex and loads more drugs? Obviously. Necrophilia? Sure. Bestiality? Mm, OK. I'll just shoehorn it into a naff spoof Regency Romance, which will actually save me having to write around a third of my novella - brilliant!No, it's safe to say I didn't enjoy Lorraine Goes to Livingston. It was pretty lazily chucked together and I missed Welsh's lovingly created characters, as opposed to these heinous one-dimensional cretins. Fortune's Always Hiding was marginally better, and The Undefeated, though reasonably enjoyable, wasn't enough to redeem the book. Probably won't reread.
—Karen
