
That happens in almost any noir novel, though. I can't see how you could get away without adding any tough gangsters or any other clichéd material. At least Pizzolatto does a pretty good job with them.
The antihero of the book, Roy Cady is a man without a future. He's doubly that: he's got cancer in his lungs, and he works as a hired hand for a local crime boss who loves Cady's ladyfriend. Cady is a man without qualities, he's empty inside, were it not for the cancer.
Yet he speaks in a beautiful voice. Galveston is full of poetic touches, marvellous lines, quotable stuff on the seedy side of life. And still I don't feel Pizzolatto is over-doing this. Galveston remains believable and plausible almost throughout. (There's one thing plot-wise that didn't wholly convince me, but I won't go into that.)
By the way, I haven't seen any episode of True Detective. I'm pretty eager to see it, yet I'm too lazy to try look it up. (I know there's a chance of seeing it on HBO Nordic, but I'm still waiting for it come on proper TV channels.)