I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much reading a crime novel, especially one that’s as dark, violent and full of grit as Paperboy. Like its award-winning predecessor, Squeaky Clean, Callum McSorley’s novel is creative and exciting and as steeped in Glasgow as Billy Connolly.
After the events of Squeaky Clean, McSorley returns us to Glasgow’s dark underbelly. This time our hapless characters are Chuck Gardner – a man who shreds paper on an industrial scale for a living and who is also an inveterate gambler. You wouldn’t necessarily immediately think of the sorts of things that can go awry for a man with a giant shredder, but trust me, Callum McSorley has thought them all through in a particularly dark and excruciating fashion. If in doubt, Simply Shred.
Meanwhile Detective Ally McCoist has managed to redeem her dodgy reputation somewhat, though more by luck than good judgement and finds herself, somewhat scarily, promoted to D.C.I.
Paulo McGuinn’s wife Lottie wants to see her husband’s murder case re-opened, something that makes D.C.I. McCoist a tad nervous. As she investigates the murder of a lawyer whose rancid body was found under a flyover, both McCoist and Gardner find themselves unwillingly drawn into Glasgow’s gangland wars, with a side order of police corruption. Since McGuinn’s death, Glasgow’s gangsters have been vying for the role of top dog and violent episodes won’t stop until the matter is settled.
One of the novel’s most striking features is its use of authentic Glaswegian dialect. McSorley crafts dialogue that immerses readers in the city’s unique linguistic landscape, capturing the rhythm and vernacular of its inhabitants. This means that the sweary words flow like pus out of a burst boil and the language is as profane as it can get, but somehow, delightfully so.
By allowing his characters to speak as they would do normally, McSorley gives depth to his characters and grounds the narrative in its setting, allowing the dialogue to contribute significantly to the novel’s immersive quality.Paperboy offers us a narrative rich in authentic dialogue, nuanced characterisation, and a vivid sense of place, especially when that place is rancid and seedy…
McSorley’s characters are intricately developed, each embodying the complexities of life in Glasgow. Ally McCoist stands out as a compelling protagonist, not so much navigating as drifting between professional challenges and personal demons. Her portrayal as a flawed, somewhat hapless, yet determined detective adds layers to the narrative. The supporting cast of grotesques and half-wits are equally well-drawn. This depth of characterisation ensures that we are wholly invested in their journeys, making the stakes of the plot more impactful.
The novel’s dark humour is a defining characteristic, providing levity amidst the tension. McSorley balances the grim aspects of crime with sharp wit, reflecting the resilience and spirit of his Glaswegians alongside a serious dose of toxicity. This humour is woven seamlessly into the narrative, enhancing the storytelling without undermining the gravity of the situations depicted. This comedic undertone enriches the reading experience, offering moments of relief amid a welter of seriously grim violence.
Glasgow is more than just a backdrop in Paperboy; it is a character in its own right. McSorley captures the city’s essence, from its bustling streets to its hidden corners, painting a vivid picture of the seedy underbelly of life. The setting informs the plot and shapes the characters’ identities and choices. The author’s understanding of Glasgow shines through, anchoring the narrative and making the events and character interactions more resonant.
Verdict: Paperboy is a brilliant read. Combining a taut and dangerous police procedural with black as coal humour, gory and noisy violence (I could hear the squelches) and some truly terrible punning, Callum McSorley has written another vibrant, successful novel, cementing his already growing reputation