A review by chestel
The Book of Evidence by John Banville

4.0

I had to keep reminding myself that this was published in 1989 and presumably set around then because it felt so vividly part of an older Ireland of tweed and gin. It was such a powerful impression that references to running shoes or credit cards seemed jarringly anachronistic. Perhaps it was that I was flooded with memories of The Third Policeman, Beckett or even Joyce. The book bore my personal baggage lightly though and was deftly sometimes blazingly original, chilling, darkly hilarious.