The adventures of the not-so-endearing Renton, Sick Boy, Spud and Franco come to an end. Irvine Welsh has just released Marked for Death (Anagram), the latest installment in the Trainspotting saga. Thirty-something years and five novels later, these people who swim so well and put away their clothes try to survive in the ins and outs of capitalism’s latest reset to the expansive sling of their own past.
If Skagboys (2012) was a sociological study of the consequences of Thatcherism, Trainspotting (1993) a philosophical treatise to confront the tyrannies of consumerism, Porno (2002) a comic for adults, The Knife Artist (2016) a spin off … Marked by death is a fart of alcohol, antidepressants and other medications, one of those that makes you wake up restless.
“Yes,” says Welsh, “you hit the nail on the head. They are different highs at different times. It’s hard for me to refer to my books. When you write you get immersed in what you do. And the book is not presented to you. You can’t relate to it the way the reader does. Because it comes to life and escapes your control. It ends up being something else. The reader interprets it, finishes it.”
The Scot attends La Vanguardia via zoom (sigh), in a gap between the rave he went to the other day to celebrate a colleague’s birthday and the funeral he had to attend the day after this interview, to say goodbye to another friend. He currently lives between London and Edinburgh, and at the beginning of the year in Miami. He can’t wait to finish shaking off this hangover and lock himself away again and write. Yes, he is a bit thick, and also super collaborative.
“People start to get older and raves are fine, but over time what you want is to find the toilet, having a toilet is suddenly very important, and having public transport to get home too. In the end we all seek comfort. And somehow we all got caught up in the system. It is very difficult for things to endure in the underground and not be assimilated by capitalism.”
Yes, this system is capable of assimilating everything, of taking the most transgressive, subversive and deviant behaviors and integrating them well-oiled into the leisure, entertainment and consumption industry. From raves to Las Vegas, passing through Barcelona, ??a global benchmark for globalized plasticization. That industrial reconversion that led these lifelong colleagues to a youth with no hope other than that offered by excess is in Marked by Death a great brunch that devours those joints with stinking toilets.
We are now in 2015, with our old friends around 50. Renton makes his living as a DJ manager. He is determined to settle his debts with his colleagues. Sick Boy runs a dating app with luxury prostitutes. Sex, drugs and money are his priorities. Franco gave up alcohol and violence and became a highly sought-after artist. He is married and has two daughters. Spud lives on alms. He is only comforted by his dog Toto.
“If you take care of yourself you will always get ahead, they tell you, right? But we are trapped in the cowardice of this society. And we continue to be conformists, even though there is nothing that conforms us, even though we do not have the means to live a good life. We don’t offer anything to people, neither cultural opportunities nor decent jobs or anything. “I don’t know if this robotic life that they propose to us is sustainable, if humanity will be able to endure it.”
Given what we have seen and how the absurdity of Marked for Death ends, it would be better for us to have died a long time ago. Dying now is a chore, but having done it a long time ago seems like a relief (sigh). Like good old Tommy. And so today we would be nothing more than the memory of a youthful smile, of the little parties in the neighborhood, of curls that no one holds a grudge against and so many toasts inspire. Am I going to have to be in this world for 20 more years? If there were only three or four maybe…
“No,” he says on the other side of the screen, suddenly upset, “we have to survive, enjoy life as much as possible and look forward. Sometimes you miss those bars, but you have to keep looking for new things. I’m not going to remain like a clown hooked on nostalgia. Older people complain about young people, who are hooked on screens, but they have a good time…”
But there is no redemption, at least in this saga, only stories, excuses and explanations. And be careful not to insist on not booking holidays a year in advance, on not worrying about interest rates, on not comparing the prices of washing machines. Soren Kierkegard wrote that people who dare to conquer freedom are branded as eccentric, and if they insist as sick, and if they persist then as criminal, because our rejection of everything that matters to them does nothing other than reveal their cowardice. .
“The truth is that I don’t know if redemption is possible. But I am optimistic. I’m sure we’ll get through it. They say that all this neoliberal stuff, its robots, artificial intelligence, the technosystem and that are the future. But human beings always get ahead, we always manage to sabotage ourselves, and we are going to get out of this, we are going to sabotage the liberal project, the capitalist system.”
Fortunately, all this is told to us by Welsh, a candid soul full of love. That’s the fun of this saga, in the desire to live that hides these self-destructive impulses. Trainspotting was never about drugs, but about rejecting what they force down our throats every day. I notice that when he was little Welsh carried the shopping bags of the ladies in his neighborhood, a great guy who insists on enjoying life, who doesn’t let himself get bitter.
“I’m always happy,” he says, despite his hangover, preparing his body for a funeral. I’m always happy. I get bored of feeling bad. I like to laugh at myself and how ridiculous it is to feel bad. I understand that those who suffer from depression cannot do anything. But I’m always happy.”