The opening line - 'It was the day my grandmother exploded' - turns
out to be true. Although it has a detective plot, and the tone has
the flippancy of its brattish protagonist, this book is a serious
meditation on Scottishness, mortality and the importance of
atheism. It is a book about immaturity - but it is mature itself.
Written by the author of The Wasp Factory, this novel describes
rites of passage in a complex but enduring Scottish family. His
central character's preoccupations with death, sex, drink, God,
illegal substances and the motor car are embedded in his
descriptions of the Scottish landscape.
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