Talent Spotting

By TONY BLACK

IRVINE WELSH's Trainspotting derailed any notion that Scotland was a spent literary force when it thundered on to the literary scene in 1993.

An immediate cult classic, it announced the arrival of a bright new talent, with an edgy, gritty and gut-churningly visceral prose style.

A gun barrel in the face of the establishment. Just what we needed.

The author went on to earn the title Poet Laureate of the Chemical Generation, whilst penning more jaw-droppingly inventive books than perhaps any other writer of his generation can lay claim to.

Amis, Self, Rushdie...dream on. Welsh is THE innovator. THE one to watch. An undisputed big-hitter of the publishing world who can still surprise, and, better yet, shock.

He takes chances. Pulls no punches. And has attracted both plaudits and disdain in equal measure for the unflinching honesty of his work, which has sold by the warehouse, defined modern Scotland and altered the face of the literary scene forever.

His latest title, IF YOU LIKED SCHOOL YOU'LL LOVE WORK, sees Welsh return to the short story, which he's shied away from since 1994's welcome arse-kicking for the form, The Acid House.

But as he told Pulp Pusher, the time was right.

TB: If You Liked School You'll Love Work is your first short story collection since The Acid House in 1994, that's quite a gap, why did you leave it so long?

IW: I've always written short stories but they've usually gone to anthologies. I was thinking about putting a collection together of stuff that's gone out of print in magazines etc over the years, when I decided it might be nice to sit down and do some new stuff.

TB: You're famous, among other things, for your strong Scottish voices, the new book switches between a variety of national voices including American, what prompted this?

IW: I've been over in the States a lot in recent years, so it kind of just came out in the fiction. It wasn't a conscious choice, indeed I almost shat myself when I realised that there were no Scottish stories at all. I wrote them pretty much in the order they came out in the book, with Kingdom of Fife added last to put in a bit of Caledonian style.

TB: You spend a lot of time in America, and you're married to an American, is it a country you'd like to explore in more detail in your fiction?

IW: Not expressly. I like America but there are other countries I like very much. It's probably just a product of spending a lot of time there and speaking the language.

TB: And, how are the Irish treating you since you moved to Dublin? 

IW: Very well. I love it over here. I've got more into film work and I think it's been 'cause I got hooked up with some excellent people at the Attic Studios in Dublin. There's a great 'can do' sense of things which is liberating in this game.

TB: See much of Alan Warner over there?

IW: Aye, we're buddies, so we're always in touch. Wherever there's an expensive eaterie, Alan won't be far away.

TB: Filth is the novel most fans of crime writing will know you best for -- in fact, I spotted Nick Stone has it listed as one of his favourites on his website -- what appealed to you about the genre?

IW: I'm not a big fan of police procedural stuff, I like the more edgy, existential arty stuff. I just liked the idea of a lead character who wasn't the classically flawed divorced, semi-alcoholic outsider who liked jazz or rock 'n' roll, or who rather was, but taken to the extremes. There are a lot of really brilliant cops but it's also the kind of job that attracts fuck ups, and those tend to be the ones you read about in the newspapers. When I was writing it there was a lot of sex and racial harassment cases going on within British forces, it seems a week couldn't go by without reading one in the paper. I thought 'what if one of these guys was in charge of a racist murder case?'

TB: Any plan to return to this territory?

IW: My next book isn't really a crime novel, but the

protagonist is an Edinburgh cop on holiday in Florida.

TB: You teamed up with some famous Edinburgh crime writers recently -- Ian Rankin and Alexander McCall Smith -- for the One City book which is aimed at fighting social exclusion in Edinburgh, that's obviously important to you.

IW: I think it is to all of us. We all write about different aspects of Edinburgh society. On one level it's a good thing that we live in a city so diverse, but it also shows how much of equality of opportunity is curtailed by the circumstances in which you live.

TB: Edinburgh -- the first Unesco City of Literature -- seems to be leading the way in the writing world at the moment, you've obviously played a big part in cementing that view, how does it make you feel, at this stage, to be referred to as one of the city's Greats?

IW: I've not moved into the same street as Sandy, Ian and JK Rowling yet, but as I divide my time between Dublin and Miami Beach, I can hardly argue that I'm 'keepin' it real'. Edinburgh's a great city, one of the world's great cities, and I'm proud to be from there. One day it might actually realise that it is and shake off its complacency. Then things would get really interesting.

TB: You've described Trainspotting -- which launched you to a worldwide audience -- as a great calling card, has it had any downside?

IW: Every nutter in town thinks that Begbie is based on them.

TB: A lot of your work has attracted quite harsh criticism -- Trainspotting was rejected for the 1993 Booker Prize shortlist for offending the female judges for example -- and the new book's been no exception, do you feel you've become an easy target for lazy hacks?

IW: Possibly, but you'll never escape criticism in this game, in fact writing is largely about criticism. I realised that when I got into it, so it doesn't come as a shock. I find praise a lot harder to deal with. It's like when you're at school in the art class and somebody (usually the kid who hasn't done one) says 'your painting's shite'. You just go, 'fuck off, where's yours?' It's when somebody says 'your paintings a lot better than mine' that you really start to freak and go 'naw it isnae!'. In my culture you are prepared to be dismissed; you get told that you're scum from day one by middle-class authority figures. It's praise that floors you because you lack the social/emotional tools to deal with it.

TB: That your books continue to sell in truckloads, must be a great fuck-you to your critics, no?

IW: If they were any good they would have done it themselves and be selling truckloads. But they ain't, and I am. I know this, they do too. Enough said.

TB: The media's seemingly endless focus on your ''past hedonism'' must be a bit of a pain in the arse by now, yet you say you never feel the need to set the story straight when hacks get it wrong?

IW: I couldn't care less. Most people have done daft things in their past and made mistakes. So what? That's what life's about, as long as you don't keep making the same ones again and again, that's when it gets boring. I'm a (fairly) straight, middle-aged, married guy who travels a lot and writes. That's my life, and any partying I do now is occasional. If anybody chooses to portray me as a drug-addled monster that's up to them, but I wouldn't be able to produce what I do if I was. I think some people reckon that I fill myself up with a strange concoction of drugs and belt out stuff in one draft. It doesn't (sadly) work that way.

TB: You've joined Four Ways films, which lists Begbie, aka Robert Carlyle, as a founder, is the film world something you're aiming to get more heavily involved in?

IW: I have been for a while. I got involved in Four Ways about five years ago, and we've been working with steady determination to get things done since then. I've also set up Jawbone, another film company with Dean Cavanagh, Jon Owen and Phil John.

TB: And can you tell us about Nuts?

IW: It's a Dublin testicular cancer and racism comedy. It'll be going round some festivals this year.

TB: The film work, we all hope, won't distract you from writing, what can we expect from you in future? Are there any mountains left to climb for Irvine Welsh?

IW: I love film, but the books will remain my first love. For one thing, they aren't contingent on other people and institutions. You can just get on with them.

TB: And finally, how you rating Hibs this weather?

IW: At this time of the season? Oh, we'll win the treble without a doubt! Disillusionment will inevitably settle in, but that's part of the fun in being a real supporter than one of the professional celebrators who follow the Old Firm. I feel sorry for people who never know what it means to be a fan of a proper footballing club in their community, instead of some tiresome franchise, and have to get their thrills through Sky and Setanta and replica strips. Wankers!

:: IF YOU LIKED SCHOOL YOU'LL LOVE WORK is published by Jonathan Cape, priced £11.99