... a standout, lyrically bleak novel ... the writing here is so sharp nearly every sentence could split open a haggis. (And I defy even the most ardent fans of McIlvanney and Rankin to determine which man wrote which passages.) ... The doctrine of social class as predestination has rarely been presented so succinctly. The distinct appeal of The Dark Remains, of course, is that it allows us readers to encounter the McIlvanney’s philosopher-detective before he hardened a granite legend ... The solution to the mystery of 'Who killed Bobby Carter?' is agreeably unexpected, but, as in so many excellent crime stories, by the time it emerges, many of us readers will be hazy on what set this investigation in motion in the first place. The point is the journey, to savor walking down the mean streets of 1970s Glasgow once again with the stoic Laidlaw.
There are multiple misdirections that seem more like Rankin than McIlvanney, and the revelation about the murderer was fairly easy to guess, but satisfying nonetheless. There are also a few references for the aficionados ... Tonally, it seems to be in the right key from the opening word ... The Dark Remains is both enjoyable and thought-provoking. I did wonder if the actual McIlvanney ur-text might ever be released, so one can sift through which piece of the jigsaw went where.
There are a couple of familiar Rankin traits in this novel and his style works well for the modern audience. Crucially, this is achieved without losing the essence of McIlvanney’s character or the philosophical musing, the hard edged look at Glasgow in tough times that underpinned the original trilogy. This is set in the 1970s so there’s more social commentary than in recent Rebus novels, these are times heavy with working class angst, misogyny, corruption and bigotry. Rankin is as strong on the compassion for the characters and their plights as McIlvanney was and there are plenty of keen observations on Glasgow people. Neither Rankin nor McIlvanney has ever been short on wit and that comes across in the sharp dialogue ... What happens in The Dark Remains, fits so well with the existing novels this can now legitimately be called a quartet ... a really satisfying crime novel, intelligent and gripping and very much in keeping with the spirit of the original, a superb read.
Rankin’s prose could do with a polish to match the standards of McIlvanney, who was also a prizewinning literary novelist. But his dialogue has the same spiky wit, he adjusts to gangster-ridden Glasgow with aplomb, and the deft period context—politics, pop, telly, football, booze brands, language, family and marital mores etc—is the most compelling reason to read the book besides its charismatic existentialist sleuth.
In this occasionally off-balance volume, commentary from Lilley fills gaps around the investigation’s action. That slows the pace. But it also allows a peek at how current master author Rankin views the original character ... a lot of what Rankin received was likely to be far from finished work. The shorter paragraphs, less deep descriptions, and uneven pace (compared to classic McIlvanney) all suggest exactly that. So reading The Dark Remains, yields far more than the strangely amazing and touching answer to 'What if you combined crime noir geniuses McIlvanney and Rankin?'
Set in 1972, this gritty crime novel probes the inner character of detective inspector Jack Laidlaw ... An essential purchase to complete crime fiction collections or where international police novels are popular.
... a rare treat for crime-fiction fans ... McIlvanney’s gift for evoking the bruised humanity in Glasgow’s underclass will remind readers not only of Rankin and his Scottish contemporaries, but also of Englishman John Harvey and, across the pond, Michael Connelly.
The world McIlvanney and Rankin create—there’s no indication of who wrote what, and readers will be hard-pressed to tell—is deliciously fluid in its conflicts. Gangs fight gangs, bosses threaten their underlings, informants sell out their former intimates, husbands and wives squabble over their betrayals, and Laidlaw makes no secret of his withering contempt for DI Ernie Milligan, the incompetent who’s inexplicably been put in charge of the case. The solution is as readily foreseen, unless you’re Milligan, and as deeply satisfying as the final lines of a prayer. A precious chance to spend a few more hours with a franchise that ended much too soon.
... smoothly written ... Of more appeal than the meandering plot and the predictable denouement is the portrayal of the mean streets of Glasgow ... Laidlaw...surprises the reader at every turn, showing himself to be literate, intelligent, and thoughtful. McIlvanney’s fans will relish this gritty early perspective on Laidlaw.
