"My fingers were turning cold, dripping blood."
The second of David Peace's Red Riding Quartet has left me feeling as tainted and in need of a shower as the first instalment. This gritty crime novel is not the kind of thing you might read for a relaxing up beat view of the world.
Tawdry, flawed human beings fill the pages with blood, sweat and other bodily fluids.
The vicious Yorkshire Ripper is on the loose and prostitutes are fair game. Brutality is everywhere along with bent coppers, hardened newspaper men and broken harlots.
As usual, the narrative is a little all over the place with a kind of horrific poetry about it. I'm perplexed that I wanted to revisit this grimy world after the first book, and yet I'm equally compelled to finish the series. There is something so real about it, its a car crash that you can't help rubber-necking at.
3 out of 5 stars, I couldn't say I loved it but it is kind of brilliantly executed. I guess I just needed the relentless misery to stop.
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