JAMES WALSH is moved by an exhibition of graphic art that relates horrors that would be much less immediate in other media

RISING to fame in the mid ’90s, Irvine Welsh produced writing that captured the essence of a raw vernacular language in conversations and events around not only his hometown of Leith, Edinburgh, or London — to where he moved in the ’80s finding punk and acid house scenes — but also resonating with readers on a truly global scale.
If you ever have the delight of finding a copy of his debut novel, Trainspotting, in a French edition — and wonder how translators tackled words such as “bampot,” “swedge,” “radge,” “weedgie” and “gadgie” — then spare a thought for the person who had the task of adapting Welsh’s book into Chinese, likesay.
Trainspotting was perhaps received as a mostly drug-themed story — yet within the narrative and candid style, there is an undercurrent reflecting the realities of a dispossessed generation that still resonates today.

In the first of two articles, DANIEL POWELL investigates the causal aspects of the Russo-Ukrainian war as Britain commemorates 80 years since VE Day


