Falling to climb

In the guise of Benjamin Black, John Banville has written a chilling crime thriller, writes Edward O'Hare

Christine Falls by Benjamin Black. Published by Picador, €25

When John Banville collected the 2005 Man Booker prize, few would have dreamt that the next time he appeared it would be under a pseudonym and as the author of a crime thriller. Critics who have followed Banville's career over the past 35 years regard him as a literary artist. While other novelists allow themselves myriad characters and subjects, Banville can take a single mind and construct a work of astonishing intellectual and aesthetic complexity. It was this singular talent which was finally recognised last year.

What his many admirers would like to know is why he has now written Christine Falls, a book that would appear to be the antithesis of what he has done all his life. The fact is that Banville, like every creator of fiction, can write whatever he likes. The danger is that after so many superbly original but highly esoteric works, an ill-considered stab at a crime thriller – the most popular and lucrative of all genres – could have spelled disaster for his reputation.

Fortunately, Christine Falls is so skillfully and thoughtfully written that it stands not only as a terrific exercise in crime fiction but also as a fine new addition to Banville's body of work.

Christine Falls centres around Quirke, a middle-aged Irish pathologist who leads a guilt-ridden existence in 1950s Dublin. Very nearly an alcoholic, Quirke's routine of autopsy table and bar collapses when the body of a young woman named Christine Falls vanishes from the hospital mortuary. When the state and religious authorities seem suspiciously unconcerned, Quirke begins his own investigation.

Leaving his position at the Holy Family Hospital, Quirke follows a trail of clues only to find that the disappearance of Christine Falls is part of a far more elaborate scheme. Quirke has become embroiled in a conspiracy involving an illegal adoption network orchestrated by the Knights of St Patrick, a secret organisation that pulls almost everyone's strings. Evading his enemies, Quirke travels to Boston and comes up against some of that city's most powerful and ruthless families. Only when Quirke is on the verge of revealing what these families have been hiding does he learn that the mystery of Christine Falls has greater implications for him than he could ever have imagined.

In the novel, Banville slowly teases out the coils of his serpentine plot with such cunning that, like all the best mystery stories, the revelations go unnoticed until they stare you in the face. It's not hard to imagine the author's famous scowl flickering into a smile as he devised these ingenious traps. He dances around the cliches that mar so many crime stories. Banville also feeds the reader enough information to intrigue, so the book avoids the narrative gaps that normally lead to a fading of interest.

For a writer famous for describing the many masks that make up the human personality, Banville has clearly had fun wearing that of Benjamin Black. The name is a variation on that of the deranged protagonist of Nightspawn, the hallucinatory Aegean-set book which marked the beginning of Banville's career as a novelist in 1971. Christine Falls can also be seen as the first novel of a new author. It allows Banville to deal directly with his characters, as opposed to looking for them down the abstract corridor of memory or in some shadowy metaphysical mirror, as he did in books like Shroud and Eclipse.

It is also interesting to see how well he recreates the Ireland of yesterday. The Dublin of the 1950s that he depicts is not remotely quaint. Ignorance and intolerance rule while the imperious Catholic church issues its unquestionable commands. Quirke and his equally repressed cohorts sit in smoke-filled bars having meaningless conversations. Nobody seems truly alive. The subtlety with which Banville breeds this sense of unease makes it all the more menacing.

The truth is that Christine Falls is authentic Banville. It possesses an unmistakable darkness that leaves you wondering why he even bothered to adopt the disguise. After all, the book cannot be considered entirely new territory for him. The Book of Evidence, the first of Banville's trilogy featuring the gentleman killer Freddie Montgommery, was a first-rate thriller. The Untouchable, Banville's novel about the Cambridge spies and arguably his best work to date, had plenty of cloak and dagger action. It can even be said that this book has some elements in common with Banville's scientific tetralogy since it features a character obsessed with finding the truth.

As Banville's first attempt to move entirely into a new territory, Christine Falls can only be regarded as a triumph. He has created an exciting, stylish scenario with an enigmatic leading character who will appeal to all readers. Banville has already expressed his intention to write more Quirke novels as Benjamin Black – and this reviewer looks forward to them. In fact Christine Falls leaves the reader with only one regret. What a pity it is that Samuel Beckett never tried something similar.