Framed

Product Information

The choice to set it in the mid-nineties is also a slightly strange one – "everyone was into Blur and Oasis these days, but [Frankie] still reckoned the old tunes were the best" – and the trappings of the era are vaguely gestured toward, rather than buttressed by necessary plot points.

It has a slow start and from then it has the odd burst of action with an ending you see coming a mile off. But Frankie’s largely snooker hall-based alcoholism, and the lack of an attempt on Ronnie’s behalf to be any more subtle about the identity of the real protagonist is part of its charm. ronnie ist nicht nur ein snooker genie sondern hat auch die phantasie ein thema spannend und schlüßig zu erzählen. uk/landing-page/orion/orion-company-information/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Orion Publishing Group Limited. This is a reputation I haven't exactly helped since I became the world's leading expert on the literary career of Steve Bruce.Extraneous characters are dropped and a strong narrative drive pushes this crime thriller through a strong finale. Taking many elements from Ronnie's own life, it is the story of Frankie James, a young lad in 1990s Soho, who dodges gangsters and underworld crime to run a snooker club in the absence of his father (in prison for armed robbery) and his mother (who ran off years before). Frankie gets himself into lots of scrapes and some unfortunate situations as the story progresses and I actually believed in him as a character and wanted him to find those answers and come out on top. And things are about to get a whole lot worse when Frankie’s brother Jack is accused of killing a bride-to-be.

Ignoring the crime and solving thereof, it had a lot more going on around it which made it a very well balanced overall read for me. His frank memoir, which reads like a transcript from the psychiatrist's coach, explains that running - and the running community - gave him a sense of acceptance and achievement. But you can't help being pulled in because it's such good fun and you want to see where he slips up. He needs to find out who framed Jack and why; but that means entering the sordid world of bent coppers, ruthless mobsters and twisted killers.

His first novel takes us into the London underworld where we meet Frankie - and his brother who gets framed for murder. There is everywhere the faint aura of vintage Partridge, nowhere more so than when Frankie visits a Greek thug who has mistreated his deceased mother's flat. The story is very graphic and memorable and I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a mystery/thriller. Yes, as I have already mentioned, Frankie does punch above his weight on quite a few occasions but then he also screws up a near equal amount of times so, again balanced. Not the biggest fan of the writing style, lots of repetition with the sentences, but an easy read with a clear plot.

His mother disappeared when he was sixteen; his father’s in jail for armed robbery; and he owes rent on the Soho snooker club he inherited to one of London’s toughest gangsters. If I didn’t know that Ronnie’s name was attached to it and I’d read it, I think it could have passed as any old mass market paperback. It's a sad fact that, although the always-contactable world in which we live is great for accessing cat memes, or telling your MP to go fuck herself because you're sad about the new Ghostbusters movie, it's utter death for any suspenseful thriller, and winding the clock back to before mobiles exist is a fairly common trope for avoiding such complications.The story itself did feel quite formulaic, almost predictable at times in how the story plodded along but I have to say that I did actually enjoy how the story flowed and how we knew the danger to Frankie was coming from somewhere, but until the end I never actually knew where that place was. However, the evidence just does not add up and Frankie is convinced his brother has been framed so he sets about trying to find out the truth. I am not adverse to a bit of bad language in context but have to agree that it was a tad over the top.

The odd reference to Poland Street and britpop can't cover the fact that this book doesn't bring 1990s Soho to life, which is a shame.Without getting drawn into the book's ludicrous plot, which features drug dealers and prostitutes and a diverse cast of heavies, hard nuts and head cases, Framed also possesses one of the most admirably long-winded scenes of exposition I've ever encountered, featuring a bravura two-or-three-chapter-length sequence in which the actual killer describes every single aspect of his plan in near forensic detail, ending with a gory denouement that perhaps outstays its welcome by half a dozen pages or so. We have Frankie's younger brother jack racing to Frankie's snooker hall, covered in blood, tipped off that the police are after him. What follows is Frankie’s quest to clear his brother’s name and find out who was ultimately responsible. Naturally enough I was being sent several recommendations of other sport stars' literary output, urged to pursue their folly in much the same vein, but it was only when alerted about the release of Ronnie O'Sullivan's first novel Framed that I decided to descend from my ivory tower and dip back into another's work.