Frankie Blue has an overwhelming desire to fit in somewhere. Up until now, his friends have kept him grounded, but, with his wedding day fast approaching, Frankie starts to question his relationship with the lads as well as his relationship with Vronky, his glamourous, sexy but suddenly nagging fiancee.
White City Blue could so easily have fallen into the makeshift-Nick Hornby-throwback trap, but is saved by the fact that it is actually quite an articulate study of a man made of little more than the suit he wears and the car he drives.
Frankie is as sharply observed as a character with little to offer can be, and he and his cronies present a darkly comic yet ultimately tragic insight into the nature of friendship between men. His relationships with Nodge, Colin and Tony seem to consist of little more than a few beers and the annual piss-up in August, yet as Frankie's time-warp of a life moves gradually forward, the real nature of their relationship is blown apart and the truth about how little they really know each other becomes apparent.
White City Blue begins with a sprinkling of familiar humour that lulls the reader into a false sense of security. By the end of the novel, the mood has darkened and the vulnerability of the hitherto cock-sure Frankie and his mates peeps through.
One for the boys, certainly--but beware: once they see there is more to this than birds and booze they may start shifting uncomfortably in their boxers.--Susan Harrison
About the Author
Tim Lott is a journalist and writer. His first book, THE SCENT OF DRIED ROSES, was awarded the J.R. Ackerley Prize for Autobiography. He lives in London (W11).
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