Friction

Author: Joe Stretch
Vintage, £7.99

JOE STRETCH’S Friction doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks; it goes on, doing the things that good books do, while you turn every page in anticipation of that rough and raw delivery that assholes are chastised for, geniuses are praised for, and most great books are lacking.

Friction follows six characters throughout Manchester who are all struggling to hear their own twisted thoughts over the death rattle of twentieth century consumerism and celebrity culture. Nerve endings dulled from overuse, Stretch’s characters rub up against the city and each other, looking for that friction, that old feeling; desperately searching for that heat and pleasure again. Justin, his newly acquired inheritance, and litres and litres of white Russians, go searching for brand new ways of having sex. Carly, the “fit as fuck” sex toy for a ridiculously rich boyfriend, finds a new companion in a robotic sex device.

From Didsbury to Fallowfield, through Rusholme, along Oxford Road and up and down Deansgate, each character keeps upping the depravity ante with the turn of every page. It’s a six-ring circus and Stretch the ringmaster works the crowd with his relentless prose, while Stretch the prizefighter works the body with shock and lust.

Friction is a novel soaked with vitriol and dripping with noir humour. It vibrates with youthful energy, just daring the student saturated population of Manchester to engage it. This is a first book that is brimming with confidence; a book whose infectious snarls and sneers can’t help but light a fire under even the writer who reviews it.

8/10