Meantime - Frankie Boyle

You should probably have a good idea what to expect from a novel by Frankie Boyle, which is something that might dismay as many people as it excites, and sure enough Meantime doesn't overturn any prior expectations you might have. You might not have expected a neo-noir crime thriller maybe, but this fiction debut is nonetheless filled with amusing and often laugh-out-loud one-liners and observations that often border - or, depending on your viewpoint, overstep - boundaries of good taste.

Boyle's take on a Glaswegian version of noir crime thriller inevitably has his very own characteristic spin on the genre. His detective Felix McVeety is not just the hard-bitten, hard-drinking type, but also one who indulges in - or perhaps more accurately is unable to function without - vast quantities of drugs. Hey, it did Sherlock Holmes no harm, as his friend and downstairs neighbour Donnie observes, so Felix reckons that while they are two people least likely to be investigating anything, "with the right drug combinations we could be whoever we had to be". Fortunately, there are plenty of drugs to hand.

What Felix needs to be is the investigator who solves the murder of his friend/drinking buddy Marina Katos. And it's not just because he has little faith in the Scottish police, or has been asked by them to provide a sperm sample as the prime suspect. It's something that goes deeper than that, even if he can't quite put his finger on it himself (blame the Valium). A note from Marina advising him to not to get involved if she turns up dead doesn't deter him, even as she expresses some scepticism that he would even have the means to investigate it. She's not far wrong either, for although Felix might not exactly have a PI licence, he does have a joke card that says he is donating his body to necrophilia that he flashes to anyone who asks.

Meantime at least sticks to some of the conventions of the genre, the investigation having all the hallmarks of a barely comprehensible labyrinthine Raymond Chandler-like delving into a dark underworld involving politicians and blackmail. In McAveety's universe however that means we have an oriental Mr Big, Glaswegian femme fatales and the detectives who do a better job of drugging themselves than anyone trying to slip them a mickey. If Boyle's hilarious Glaswegian spin on this alone isn't amusing enough, there's a turn towards the bizarre that brings questions around AI technology, simulated reality and the Scottish Referendum into the agenda. And that's just for starters.

If he is arguably the least qualified person to be a detective, Boyle's Felix McAveety at least has the wit, patter and observation and facility with delivering withering one-liners - as well as a knack for getting into trouble - as Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe at his best. That's a high compliment for any crime writer but you have to remember we are talking about comedian, writer and columnist Frankie Boyle here, one well known for scathing diatribes against... well, no one is off limits, obviously. There are a few questionable but funny jibes about mental illness casually tossed in very early on, just to weed out any sensitive souls who may have inadvertently stumbled onto Meantime unaware of the author's reputation/notoriety, but if you stick around there's plenty more where that came from.

Those who know what to expect however won't be disappointed by the sheer endless flow of witty observations. More than generous, Boyle must have on average three or four crackers per page, so in a 350 page book, you've literally got at least a thousand lines to laugh out loud at and share with/annoy the person next to you - who might as well read the book themselves at that rate. It has to be said that this level of humorous content does slow the plot progress and your usual reading speed, since you don't want to skim over a paragraph and miss a devastatingly funny punchline. It's not that you don't get value for money page after page, but with such generosity of Frankie Boyle humour packed into a single book, you'd rather not let anything go to waste.

That said, focus is relative anyway when a plot is as convoluted as this, or perhaps not so much convoluted as made so by the narrator's inability to keep his attention from wandering onto side issues and random bemused concerns, no doubt partly down to his diet/cocktail of prescription drugs, recreational drugs and hallucinogenics. But believe me, it gets there thrillingly, with considerable charm and a certain amount of surprise at the turns it takes towards the conclusion. Unquestionably however, it's the consistently high level and distinctive quality of Boyle's humour that make this an impressive fiction debut. But for personal toll it takes on him and the rate of attrition of friends in Meantime, you'd almost wish there would be more Felix McAveety investigations in the future. In his reality however, maybe anything can happen.

Reading notes: Meantime by Frankie Boyle is published by Baskerville 21st July 2022. My thanks to the publisher for the advance proof copy in paperback.