3.25 stars

This was an odd book -- clearly author John Banville, (by any name) with his Booker List credentials, is an accomplished writer. In particular his character descriptions are wonderful.

The tone of the book is dark, as Irish mysteries often are. There is a certain aimlessness to the main character, Protestant upper-class detective St.John Strafford, who has a hard time fitting in with his working class Catholic co-workers. This is a historic mystery, set in Ireland in the 50's. The author re-creates the atmosphere then amazingly well, and yet it feels mostly just dated. Ireland then was firmly in the grip of the Catholic Church. It's hard to imagine that these many years later, the modern Ireland elected a gay prime minister and voted overwhelmingly to overturn the ban on abortion.

But, back to the 50s. A priest has been found stabbed to death in the library of a country estate. The lord of the manor is an entitled Protestant. The family is strange: both the second wife and the daughter are barking mad, and the son is a bit off. And, the priest wasn't just murdered -- he was castrated as well. So, this sets up the reader to make some assumptions, which mostly turn out to be true. In view of the many revelations about abuses and coverups by Catholic priests, the plot has a weary familiarity to it. There is one section actually written in the dead priest's voice, rationalizing his life and actions. And then at the very end, there is a flash forward to ten years after the crime and a chance meeting between the detective and the daughter of the family.

Nicely written, but fairly grim with no characters to actually care about. Thanks to the publisher and to Net Galley for providing me with an ARC in exchange for my honest review.

I had never read any of John Banville’s work before, so I had no idea what to expect. But the book swirled me into its vortex and completely absorbed my attention with its evocative, haunting prose and wry-voiced Detective Inspector St. John Strafford.

I really enjoyed Banville’s voice. The wry tone works well for this type of police procedural, with its slow, almost leisurely pace, and rich characterizations. It is by turns humorous and bitter, and its bitterness is savage. But it’s always clear-eyed and sharply observant of details, both those of the physical world and those of human foibles and quirks.

His detective, Inspector Strafford, isn’t good at solving puzzles. His chief characterizes him as a “trudger”, and an unimaginative one at that. This is an interesting and unusual choice for a detective novel’s protagonist. The character is hampered not only by external forces (the snow, the secrecy of the Osbornes) but by himself.

Despite this, he’s a winning character. I enjoyed how his mind works. He might not enjoy his work. He might not be suited to finding a priest’s killer. But he still desires to do his duty. The truth matters to him. Though he knows the facts will be buried, thanks to the long reach of the Church, it’s only a matter of how deeply they are buried. And he still must try to keep them buried them. And so he trudges on.

When he arrives at the country manor, he finds that the priest’s body has been “tidied up” by the estate owner, Colonel Osborne. Crime scene integrity be damned, certain points of decorum must be observed. I almost heard the voice of the collective dead Osborne ancestors saying, Leaving a murder victim the way it was found, why, that wouldn’t be proper, my dear. That this hinders the investigation and aids the murderer matters not one whit.

The other characters are, as Strafford observes, all certain “types.” There’s the ex-military Colonel, all stiff-upper lip and decorum, fussing about the untidy crime scene. His rather pathetic, possibly “mad” second wife, doped up on sedatives. The unhappy son Dominick, dutifully studying medicine when he’d rather do anything else. The equally unhappy daughter Lettie with her cutting, vicious remarks, hiding her expulsion from school from her father. The black sheep, fast-talking, flashy brother-in-law, banned from the Colonel’s house. The country doctor, stopping by to visit his patient each day.

It’s as though each of them is playing a role in a play. But each is playing their part too well, too convincingly to truly be convincing.

While Banville sprinkles in a few red herrings, the mystery isn’t full of twists. The motive is fairly transparent (to readers, at least), and after a while, the list of possible killers narrows down to certain characters. It’s easy to grow impatient with Strafford’s blindness to what seems obvious to us in the 21st century. But I think the time period might have something to do with this. It’s almost impossible for someone living in 2020 to realize how things were in 1957 Ireland, back before certain horrible truths tumbled out into the daylight, never completely swept back into darkness again. But before? Strafford wasn’t alone in his unwitting blindness.

Banville held my interest throughout the mystery. Everything flows beautifully: the characters and setting and story are integrated seamlessly, the sign of a masterful writer. Throughout the novel, I took notes on the prose.

Spoiler alert: Toward the end, there is a chapter with some explicit sexual violence. While Banville handles it well, using insinuations more than graphic description, it is a stomach churning few pages to read. The author crawls into the mind of a predator and shows us all too well how such a person justifies their actions, and how complicit those around them are in hiding the abuse. It’s horrifying. For those triggered by sexual violence, this might be too hard to handle.

The book isn’t for everyone–what book is?–but Snow is a mystery for long winter nights, curled up by a crackling fire while the fictional Inspector Strafford braves the cold and snow to find the killer.

All in all, this won’t be the last book by John Banville that I read.

Note: I received a complimentary copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. I was not required to write a positive review. All opinions are my own.

(Note: This will appear on my blog on 12 October 2020.)

While I wanted to enjoy this book, I found the pace of the novel was very slow until the end. The first 90% of the novel revolved around relationships, and detective work. Then the last 10% the author resolved the murder, and then some. I figured out who was responsible well before the end, so I guess I wasn't disappointed. But, overall, I did not enjoy the book as much as I thought I would.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for the advanced copy of this book. Snow is out in October. If dark police procedurals that are heavily character driven are your jam, then this one may be for you. I really, really liked it. It was so compelling and brilliantly written. But please be warned that it is HEAVY subject material - the death of a priest in 1957 Ireland, and the subsequent attempted coverup by the Church, with a (Protestant) detective who is determined to find the truth. I should have known going in that a book dealing with a priest in that place and time period might also be dealing with sexual abuse/rape, but I was naively unprepared for it. For the most part it was bearable, but there was one section - from the POV of the priest himself - that was so disturbing and frankly unnecessary. So it's hard to say "I loved this one!" when you're dealing with that particular subject matter. But, Banville is a wonderful writer and storyteller and I DID enjoy this one very much for the most part.

The setting - a very snowy December in the Irish countryside - was so atmospheric. I loved it. The snow became a character in itself and added so much weight to the overall mood of the book. Detective St. John (pronounced Sinjun) Strafford was an interesting character - I had a hard time wrapping my head around him (was he brilliant? Average? ) but despite that I really liked him. His own background is one of privilege and wealth, giving him a better understanding of the family he is investigating. He's a bit of a mess but the good ones always are right?

The death he is sent to investigate is gruesome and, we come to find out, very much deserved. The interlude towards the end, which features the Priest's POV, is, as I said, unnecessary. Or, perhaps it's necessary to paint the picture of why sexual abuse and rape within the Catholic Church is so insidious, but it was so tough to read. (In fact I mostly skimmed that part.) Banville certainly paints a clear picture of the times.

Overall this was a really well done detective novel featuring a compelling plot, interesting characters (everyone is a bit of a mess!) and a wonderful, evocative setting. I'm glad I read it, though I need a palate cleanser read next!

A deeply attentive plot that is clever and watchful through the characters that are so wonderfully drawn. There are many subtle nuances that enable John Banville to play with scenarios that are intriguing to observe, particularly the relationship between the preeminent catholic church in Ireland and the protestant citizens that tended to hold positions of wealth and standing. The imagery of a landscape covered in snow provides a very intriguing analogy with a blanket of cover concealing crimes, lies and secrets. Under the unbroken whiteness lies the dark reality of what the normal ground looks like.

Detective Inspector St John Strafford (with an R) is dispatched to Osborne Manor to investigate the murder and mutilation of a catholic priest. Father Tom Lawless was found dead in the library, in a pool of blood with his genitals removed, and where the body has been respectfully repositioned with the blood around the body mopped up. There are several contrasting themes at play throughout the novel, none more glaring than the catholic-protestant wariness and how it adds to suspicion and motives around everyone. Strafford is a protestant detective in the catholic dominated police force and Colonel Osborne is the protestant owner of Osborne Manor and its estate. The influence of the Catholic Archbishop is considerable and the body does not remain local in Wexford but driven to Dublin for autopsy.

A police crime-investigation into the murder and mutilation of a priest in Ireland – I wonder what the priest could have been guilty of to warrant such a reaction? It seems that once Ireland emerged from the controlling societal influence of the catholic church, it opened the flood gates for stories that shone the light on so many dark crimes from within the church.

Snow is a different type of book from other John Banville books I’ve read, and I felt his wonderful literary ability and careful development of characters and backdrop kept the pace of this story slightly subdued – it could not be described as a pacey thriller. The character development creates several fascinating personalities and relationships, particularly DI Strafford, and I did fully enjoy the Osborne family. The multiple contrasting layers of mistrust, intrigue, allure, disguise and peculiar behaviour all add to a mysterious murder hunt.

I would like to thank Harlequin Trade Publishing, Hanover Square Press and NetGalley for providing me with a free ARC in return for an honest review.

"The incomparable Booker Prize winner's next great crime novel - the story of a family whose secrets resurface when a parish priest is found murdered in their ancestral home.

Detective Inspector St. John Strafford has been summoned to County Wexford to investigate a murder. A parish priest has been found dead in Ballyglass House, the family seat of the aristocratic, secretive Osborne family.

The year is 1957 and the Catholic Church rules Ireland with an iron fist. Strafford - flinty, visibly Protestant and determined to identify the murderer - faces obstruction at every turn, from the heavily accumulating snow to the culture of silence in the tight-knit community he begins to investigate.

As he delves further, he learns the Osbornes are not at all what they seem. And when his own deputy goes missing, Strafford must work to unravel the ever-expanding mystery before the community's secrets, like the snowfall itself, threaten to obliterate everything.

Beautifully crafted, darkly evocative and pulsing with suspense, Snow is "the Irish master" (New Yorker) John Banville at his page-turning best."

1: A Country House. 2: A murder. 3: A snowstorm. 4: A must read.

Reading anything by John Banville is a pleasure. SNOW is a new detective novel set in a dusty old mansion, in 1957, where the Osbornes regularly host the parish priest. Detective Strafford travels through the heavy snow to investigate the murder of the priest.

Snow is an apt title for this novel. Snow is everywhere, making travel difficult and creating an atmosphere that serves as a metaphor for what has been happening in the Osborne mansion. I loved the characters in all their obnoxious glory. They all made appearances as high society citizens in a house that was falling down around them.

I felt empathy for Det. Strafford, a solitary man, who was determined to uncover the truth. Snow and the secrecy around the house would not impede his investigation. JB fleshes out Strafford, who doesn't have any love in his life, a sad character.

I loved that JB wrote a CODA for this novel. It was a great addition to the story. Thank you to the author, the publisher, and NetGalley for access to this ARC.

Such a delightful and disturbing mystery. This was my first John Banville and I'll be going back for more. Such beautiful and atmospheric descriptions of the setting and characters. Our leading detective was just enough of an oddball to keep one wondering. The mystery was not overly complex, but the gaps in everyone's stories made for an enjoyable read.

The story takes place in 1957. A priest is murdered in Ballyglass House, the estate of a Protestant upper class family, the Osbornes. Detective Inspector Strafford is heading the case to figure out who killed the priest and why. I knew early in the book why the priest was killed because the author gives hints. I think the story may have been better if some of the hints weren't given so early. Even though it was easy to narrow down to three obvious suspects right away, I enjoyed reading the story until its end. (Sometimes I get bored with a mystery when the suspect is too obvious.)

What I didn't enjoy about the book was the explicit sex scene. This is why I gave the book a 3 rating. Otherwise, I would have given it a 4.

Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for the chance to read Snow by John Banville.
This story takes place in Ireland in a small town. It opens with the murder of a parish priest that has been staying at the home of the Osbourne family.
The Catholic church rules the land and when the body is found, Detective Inspector St. John Strafford is sent to investigate. No one knows anything and has seen or heard anything. The body has been moved, and blood has been cleaned up. And this is how this story begins.

Snow
A Novel
by John Banville
HARLEQUIN – Trade Publishing (U.S. & Canada)
Hanover Square Press
Literary Fiction | Mystery & Thrillers
Pub Date 06 Oct 2020 | Archive Date Not set

This was not the book for me. I felt it was rather slow going, but maybe for another reader it would be fine.
Thanks to Net
Galley and Harlequin for the opportunity to read the ARC.

On one level John Banville offers a sly wink at iconic British crime fiction, with its setting in a small village at an aristocratic manor house, and all the suspects already at the scene of the crime, committed, of course, in the library with a dagger. The detective only has to deduce which one is guilty, which is accomplished simultaneously with the gradual revelation of all the sordid secrets of the suspects.

On another level, this is historical fiction, set in the winter of 1957 Ireland, when tensions were simmering between Protestants and Catholics, and expectations of class, power, and religion color every interaction between the two groups, even down to preference in whisky. (The Catholics, apparently, prefer Jameson’s to Bushmills, and consider it a pointed insult to be offered whisky not in keeping with their heritage, “another of the multitude of minor myths the country thrived on.”)

Detective Inspector St John Strafford has been sent in a serious snowstorm from the Dublin police force to Ballyglass House in the County of Wexford. This run-down manor was owned by the Protestant Colonel Osborne, so it was thought that the Protestant Strafford could handle the situation more diplomatically. At Ballyglass, a priest who was a guest of the house, Father Tom Lawless, has just been murdered and mutilated. Readers can certainly guess why a priest might have been castrated, and the author eventually supplies us with gruesome justifications for the crime. But more than one person associated with the manor has a motive, and Strafford must figure out which one it is. The main characters are odd, and all seem, in Strafford’s eyes, to be playing roles.

Osborne was “very much a type,” Strafford noticed. “Odd, he thought, that a man should take the time to dress and groom himself so punctiliously while the body of a stabbed and castrated priest lay on the floor in his library. But of course the forms must be observed, whatever the circumstances - afternoon tea had been taken every day, often outdoors, during the siege of Khartoum.”

Osborne’s young (second) wife Sylvia, is generally considered to be crazy, and is administered sedatives every day by a doctor.

Osborne has two children from his first wife who are also at home, as it is Christmastime. Lettie is seventeen, cruel, sarcastic, and full of herself, and Dominic is a morose medical student at Trinity College in Dublin.

In addition, there are a few staff members around, and a few locals who have occasion to stop at the manor.

Strafford must work within the confines of reality in 1957 Ireland, which is that “The Catholic Church - the powers that be, in other words - would shoulder its way in and take over. There would be a cover-up, some plausible lie would be peddled to the public. The only question was how deeply the facts could be buried.” Indeed, Strafford is summoned for a parley of sorts with the Archbishop of Dublin, John Charles McQuaid, to discuss his handling of the case, and to receive not so subtle threats about what he does or does not reveal to the press.

Strafford finally closes in on what happened, but only as near as he can get to it by the actors all so wedded to their roles and to their secrets.

Evaluation: This crime story is cleverly told, but the specifics were so abhorrent to me I could hardly bear to read it. This was certainly not the author’s fault, as reality is sometimes just that way, but I can’t really say I enjoyed it.

Banville is skilled at drawing characters who come alive on the page, and whose world is full of vivid detail and feeling. The plot of this book, however, left much to be desired. The mystery's solution could be deduced in all its final detail by a third of the way through, which meant the last two thirds dragged, and I grew frustrated by the main character's refusal to see what was in front of him.

SPOILERS: I think perhaps there are nuances to the Irish and Catholic reckoning with priest abuse that I, as a non-Catholic, non-Irish person don't grasp. That being said — I found the use of cycles of abuse in this book both tired and disheartening. An abuser was himself abused once, and his victims go on to abuse others. The only victims who escape the cycle are those who turn to violence and suicide. This set of "lessons" about what abuse does and means to us sheds no new light and in fact seems to flatten the lived reality of abuse survivors.

Black and white and red.

John Banville's newest book splashes evil and murder on a snowy landscape.

The first sentence -- "I'm a priest, for Christ's sake -- how can this be happening to me?" -- sucks the reader into a vortex of characters swirling in an Irish country manor house.

Enter Detective St. John Strafford to discover who would murder and castrate a priest. Is it the lord of the crumbling manor, his delusional wife, the promiscuous daughter, the college student son, the groom?

Banville's poetic prose makes a lurid tale intoxicating.

I know a number of people disliked this book and remarked that they found it very slow going but I really liked (most of) this novel. Big thinkers and introverts will likely enjoy this mystery more than extroverts primarily because the author has written this for a main character who has a great inner dialogue going at all times. This informs the action (or lack thereof). I could definitely see this as a PBS movie or series, except for a shocking few pages toward the last 20%. I thought that would be hinted at, not so explicitly written out..

A murder mystery set in a mansion in Ireland. A priest is brutally murdered, and the protestant police detective is brought in to solve the crime. Book started out fine, but did slow down a bit and was skimmable at times. First I've read by this author, so may just be a style issue. Would recommend though, as it kept my interest to the end.

The "why"of the mystery was somewhat predictable, but Banville's writing is lovely. and I did enjoy the story and the detective. I was a bit surprised as to the perpetrator.

The storyline/plot was okay, at best. I found none of the characters particularly likable or relatable. Weak character development. I had troubles staying engaged while reading.

Not quite Quirke and not exactly classic Banville , but a delightful blend that showcases fine writing and lucid storytelling. Fans of non-cosy mysteries will be pleased with plotting and pace. The characters and interactions feature social issues in a non contemporary setting allowing for a perspective not often encountered either in mystery or in general literary fiction. A winner.

A murdered priest, on the floor in the library of a great house in the Irish countryside in a wintry setting, a curious detective, and a small circle of suspects with enough motives and hidden agendas to food into a well-told tale by John Nashville, a serious novelist who transcends the genre in his handful of police procedural. This one is missing Oliver Quirke, Banvile' s usual guide to murder among his countrymen-he's mentioned only once, in passing - apparently the crusty old pathologist is on his honeymoon, a fact that might make c the readers of Snow consult the author's backlist. The mystery v isn't who did it, or even went, but the pleasure less in Banvile use of imagery, his lyricism and his beautifully crafted sentences.Somewhat slow reading, with an atmosphere so well conjured on the page that you'll reach for a sweater and turn up the lights regardless of the weather or time of day.