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Filth | 
 enlarge | Author: Irvine Welsh
Publisher: Vintage
Category: Book
List Price: £7.99
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Rating:  77 reviews
Sales Rank: 6712
Media: Paperback
Edition: New edition
Pages: 416
Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.5
Dimensions (in): 7.7 x 5 x 1.1
ISBN: 0099591111
EAN: 9780099591115
ASIN: 0099591111
Publication Date: June 5, 2008
Availability: Usually dispatched within 1-2 business days
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Condition: We ship daily from the United Kingdom
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Amazon.co.uk Review
Irvine Welsh has produced more than his share of revolting characters in his short yet spectacular writing career, but in the creation of Detective Sergeant Bruce Robertson he has surpassed himself. The protagonist of Filth is, both personally and professionally, utterly corrupt; a thief, drug user, misogynist and racist, with standards of appearance and personal hygiene that are simply beyond belief. It goes without saying that his wife and children have left him but, oddly, he still has few drinking mates, and even some of the women he so hideously abuses are still prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt. "The undeniable sexuality which is part and parcel of the complete dominance over another human being", opines the viciously selfish Robertson, is just part of what makes, "poliswork such a satisfying career." But, strangely, as we chart his inevitable decline...from what is admittedly a very low baseline--a solid, almost conventional, underlying morality begins to assert itself. Amid the degradation we come across a hint of reason as Welsh's stunningly direct dialogue and hideously imaginative plot combine in a thrilling, undeniably unsettling novel. --Nick Wroe
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| Customer Reviews: Read 72 more reviews...
 interesting........ July 3, 2008
P. Davie
I have read my share of misanthropic novels - I frequently enjoy journies to the dark side of life. This novel, though, belongs to a different genre entirely. Harvey Pekar is misanthropic. Holden Cauldfield is something of a misanthrope. Bruce Robertson is a bigot. And a sexist bigot at that. Whether he was intended to be a vehicle for Welsh to vent his spleen, or whether Robertson was created as a detestable character who embodies the evil thoughts we all have, I don't know. Nevertheless, his hatred is borne more out of prejudice than of genuine misanthropy derived from observing human nature. He is, as a result, a pretty unattractive specimin. Yet strangely, you do warm to him. A bit. But only in the way you warm to any anti-hero.
Anyway, semantic arguments about the difference between misanthropy and bigotry aside, this novel proved to be somewhat interesting in the end. And it was doubtful there, for a while, because about two thirds of the way in, I began to get strong suspicions that the final third was just gonna be more of the same.
Thankfully, it wasn't.
Basically, the first two thirds consists of a half-arsed attempt at a police investigation interspersed with Robertson's work-avoidance tactics - which include his predilection for charlie, bizarre sex acts and acts of back-stabbery perpetrated against his colleagues. These are all intentionally corrupt and foul but whether you count them as genuinely shocking or not kind of depends on your attitude. Yes, if these were real-life events, I am sure we should all be outraged. As elements of a work of literature? Well, put it this way: Anyone can out-do any act of literary depravity by throwing in a dog,a well-oiled dwarf and.....you get the idea. The main thing would be to determine whether these activities are enough to make you hate Robertson. Most people would probably say "Yes". Sadly, though, these activities are very repetetive and there are only so many times you can read about a man trying to do things with his rotten man-veg before getting bored.
So, the conclusion. I can't decide whether the ending represents a kind of deus ex machina that allowed an uninventive Welsh to end his novel, a deus ex machina that gave his character the kind of background that justified his persona, or whether it was a genuine plot device used to flesh out a character in need of flesh. Either way, it was strangely affecting - and I don't know whether that's a good thing or not. Ultimately, I am giving the book the benefit of the doubt. You do get a good idea of Robertson as a character and your allegiance (to him or against him) does make you question your values. It just takes quite a lot of time to get there - and there's a lot of repetition in the process.
 A sick Irvine Welsh character... July 1, 2008
D.Watts. (United Kingdom)
1 out of 1 found this review helpful
Both Bruce Robertson and the tapeworm are sick, classic Irvine Welsh characters. Like a lot of Welsh characters, Robertson shows signs of good as well as evil, and you're never quite sure whether he's at heart a good guy just misdirected - that's what makes the book interesting. There's some really disgusting, hilarious moments in the book that only Welsh could conjure up. A lot of other reviews suggest that the book might be too long, without direction and meandering through the middle part. I'll leave that up to the reader to decide. But I really would recommend finishing the book. The last half a dozen chapters really hit you hard and they'll leave you thinking about it for a few days.
oh yes, it's filthy... June 25, 2008
E. Falaise (Allemagne)
In this book, Welsh brings out something that is not so often shown to the open world: Filth. He shoves it into our face, eyes, ears, hands and hair.
It's the story of an Edinburgh policeman, whose 'temporarily separation' from his wife and daughter builds up the laundry and dishes stacks in his house, whose skin problems Welsh pleases us with (not!), whose drink'n'drug habit leads the reader to a somber, dark, lonely path through filth.
Welsh shows us how life of some people can me miserable, and how they don't know about it, or care to know about it, and even come to like everything about it. Welsh's character is just this sad guy living around the corner who came to lose everything because he was too proud to let go anything, and whose stool in the local pub now got his name on it.
 rubbish February 29, 2008
J. Byfleet (England)
I was not appaulled by this book, i am no prude at all. But to me it seemed like before writing it he wrote a list of "things that catch people attention" and then tried to include them all. because confrontational literature sells. This was poorly written and with no story line or anything. no characters to relate to just a load of balls.This is the only book i have ever thrown away, because it wasn't wprth the 10p someone would pay in a charity shop.
A relentless journey into the pits of debauchery October 10, 2007
Michael Saker
Irvine Welsh's Filth is a fantastic book which manages to gracefully hold the reader's attention whilst relentlessly elucidating some of the most harrowing and disturbing storylines ever captured in Print. Filth's contemptible protagonist is the paradoxically likeable Detective Sergeant Bruce Robertson, a corrupt policeman who likes to get the job done `his way'; with attention to protocol and official standards of professionalism being unremittingly stamped out by the jackboot of old fashioned streetwise thuggery. The central plot that underpins Welsh's instant classic is the recent murder of a Black man, the ensuing investigation, and the growing tapeworm which has started philosophising deep in Bruce's intestines.
From the opening chapters the squallier in which Bruce is living becomes increasingly apparent, and serves as further evidence for why his wife - Carole - and daughter - Stacey - recently left him. With soiled clothes mounting in direct correlation with the putrid smells that continually mingle with the rotting tins of takeaways long since forgotten; it is not surprising that Bruce's eczema is spreading from his backside to his genitals. In fact the only thing that is surprising is that Carole was attracted to him in the first place. That is of course until his dexterous abilities of manipulation are gradually revealed to the reader during innumerous tales of sickening exploitation, debauchery and merciless backstabbing.
Bruce Robertson is the anti-hero par excellence, with Welsh brilliantly managing to create a character that is both loved and despised in equal measures. He is a racist, misogynistic, ruthless, conniving, underhand pig (excuse the pun) who some how manages to interminably worm (and again) his way back into the readers hearts, despite all of his very obvious misgivings. I would suggest this is because deep down the reader is implicitly aware that he is a lost soul, or at best losing himself in a world that perhaps passed him by some time ago. This recurring sense of loss and abandonment gradually reaches a crescendo during the final three chapters, where the reasons for why he is as he is are unapologetically revealed by the tapeworm that lines his intestines.
In sum Welsh's Filth is a literary masterpiece that uncompromisingly interweaves the underlying themes of delusion, abandonment, revelation and acceptance, within a storyline as poignant as it is repulsive, and as repulsive as it in ingenuous. Bruce Robertson is a despicable character whose lack of morals and innate selfishness will sicken even the coldest of hearts, whilst still leaving enough room for us to feel saddened by his pitiful predicament, and pity for his unyielding self belief, even when the walls that surround him crumble down. Filth is a book which everyone can take something from, even if this something is the simple acknowledgement of the futility of our own situations... In the words of our fateful protagonist - the same rules apply.
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