Christine Falls (Unabridged) [Audio Download]

With the same care that he devotes to his "serious" fiction, Booker Prize-winning author John Banville, under the pen name of "Benjamin Black," plumbs Dublin's Roman Catholic heritage in a mystery which examines the question of sin. The result is a vibrantly alive, intensely realized story of Dublin life and values in the 1950s--a mystery which makes the reader think at the same time that s/he is being entertained. Unlike most of the characters, Quirke, the main character, holds no awe for the church. In his early forties, "big and heavy and awkward," Quirke is a pathologist/coroner at Holy Family Hospital, a man who "prizes his loneliness as mark of some distinction." A realist, he has seen the dark side of life too often to hold out much hope for the future, his own or anyone else's.

His vision of humanity is not improved when he goes to his office unexpectedly one evening and finds his brother-in-law, famed obstetrician Malachy Griffin, altering documents regarding the death of a young woman, Christine Falls. Quirke's autopsy of Christine shows, not surprisingly, that she has died in childbirth, a "fallen woman" in the eyes of the church. The nature of Christine's sin, however, does not begin to compare to the sins that Quirke uncovers during his investigation of her death and the fate of her child.

John Banville (Black) has always been at least as interested in character as plot, and this novel is no exception. Quirke lived in an orphanage before being unofficially adopted by Judge Garrett Griffin, father of Dr. Malachy Griffin, who is obviously involved in the case. Developing on parallel planes, the novel becomes a study of Quirke and his personal relationships, at the same time that it is a study of Christine Falls and what she represents about Dublin society, the medical profession, and the church and its influence. Gradually, the reader learns about the Knights of St. Patrick, a conservative Catholic organization; the association of the Knights with American charities; the behind-the-scenes administration of orphanages and convents; and the nature of power in upper-echelon Dublin.

Murders, torture, beatings, and violence keep the action level high (and a bit melodramatic), in keeping with the great, old-fashioned tradition of 1950s mystery-writing. A change of location from Dublin to Boston broadens the scope, connecting the Dublin mystery to the history of the Irish and their traditions in Boston. The author's use of parallel scenes emphasizes contrasts and similarities (a Christmas party in Dublin vs. a Christmas party in Boston, for example), and he maintains a conversational voice appropriate for Quirke. After this fine debut mystery, one can easily imagine Banville developing the character of Quirke in future mysteries and becoming, like Graham Greene, a writer of both serious literary fiction and "entertainments." Mary Whipple

I find John Banville's 'literary' novels unreadable, but here, in a new venture, he combines elegance with readability to deliver character, plot and atmosphere. Dublin in the 50s plays a large part, and very grim it is too: priest-bound, stuffy and snobbish. Quirke is a promising central character, even if a drink problem is a rather too common device for both professional and amateur detectives. He grapples with guilt, although not Catholic guilt, over the wife who died in childbirth and the woman he really loved but let slip away; and the unfolding plot delivers some stunning news about his young niece.

It's not a whodunnit, but it still springs surprises. I'm looking forward to the second installment.

I really enjoyed this book. While agreeing that it wasn't the mystery novel it was hyped up as being - nor were there the insights into pathology that you get from Waking the Dead or Silent Witness - it was the first novel that I have read that attempts to portray post-colonial, de Valera's Catholic-constitutioned Ireland of the 1950s. It was dark and atmospheric, and succeeded in portraying a the perspective of a man who couldn't go along with the secrecy and hypocrisy of the times, who was probably a product of some shameful tryst, hence his early upbringing in an orphanage. Another reviewer stated that today we know about what went on in Ireland at that time, that it's been well documented. The point is, it hadn't at that time and no one talked about it. Quirke is flawed, but brave. The novel is elegantly written with fine attention to the choice of words. I disagree with the reviewer who thought it could be set anywhere - a number of street names in the book are real, placing it firmly in Dublin. My niggle (and it's a tiny one) is the use of the surname and omission of a forename - it's been done before by Colin Dexter.