First of all, let me say Doyle is a great writer, and this book proves it. And he tells a great story, as he does again in this book.
But ...
But I'm not really sure if I liked this novel. I'm not sure what the story is.
As he closes out the book, Doyle brings into question everything he has written. I don't know what happened and what didn't. Yes, I realize this is fiction, but I still expect the story that I just read is true in the world it is set, and is not simply a tale that meant nothing. Because if it's the latter, then what is the point?
The book stars Victor Forde, a recently separated, middle-aged Irishman. He's had a charming life, it seems, marrying a beautiful woman well above his standing, and working as a guest on radio chat shows, pontificating in the issues of the day. He's writing a book, but it seems he's been writing the book for most of his life, and hasn't quite finished it yet.
After his separation, Victor moves into a small apartment in Dublin, and he decides to hang around a nearby pub, to make it "his place." The first man he meets there, however, is a fellow by the name of Fitzpatrick, whom he takes an instant dislike to. But Victor presently settles in with a group of friends, and Fitzpatrick falls by the wayside, although he continues to show up here and there.
We are then told, in flashbacks, the story of Victor's life, including flashbacks that Fitzpatrick seems to draw out of him. Our narrator doesn't like the remembrances, and he doesn't like what they seem to be doing to his life as he knows it.
It's a disturbing story, if well told. But we are left to wonder: Is it real? Or did any of it happen?
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