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Peter McGarr #8
The Death of a Joyce Scholar
Trinity professor and Joycean scholar Kevin Coyle was one of Dublin's most colorful -- and controversial -- characters, until someone stabbed him through the heart on Bloomsday, the annual citywide celebration honoring Ireland's most beloved literary light. The poetic irony is not lost on Chief Superintendent Peter McGarr: one of the foremost experts on the works of James Joyce was slain on the so-called "Murderers' Ground" made famous in the author's magnum opus Ulysses. But the connection does not end there. And the deeper the intrepid McGarr digs, the more startling truths he uncovers about a victim's dark, licentious history, a list of suspects as vast and varied as the characters in a great novel ... and a motive for murder that can hide as easily in the pages of a classic book as in the twisted passions of a human heart.
336 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1989
20 people are currently reading
193 people want to read
About the author
Bartholomew Gill
30 books28 followersBartholomew Gill is the pen name of Mark McGarrity.
Mr. McGarrity was born in Holyoke, Mass., and graduated from Brown University in 1966. He studied for his master's degree at Trinity College, Dublin, and never tired of mining the country for material.
''One of the things they gave me,'' he once said of his books, ''is a chance to go back to Ireland time and time again to do research.''
He was also an avid outdoorsman, and since 1996 worked at The Star-Ledger of Newark as a features writer and columnist under the McGarrity name, specializing in nature and outdoor recreation. While continuing to produce McGarr novels, sometimes at the rate of one a year, Mr. McGarrity produced several articles a week for the newspaper. He wrote about a variety of topics ranging from environmental issues to the odd characters he encountered in his travels, like an Eastern European immigrant who grew up watching cowboy movies and found his dream job playing Wyatt Earp in an amusement park in rural New Jersey.
Mr. McGarrity also published five novels under his own name.
Series:
* Peter McGarr Mystery
Mr. McGarrity was born in Holyoke, Mass., and graduated from Brown University in 1966. He studied for his master's degree at Trinity College, Dublin, and never tired of mining the country for material.
''One of the things they gave me,'' he once said of his books, ''is a chance to go back to Ireland time and time again to do research.''
He was also an avid outdoorsman, and since 1996 worked at The Star-Ledger of Newark as a features writer and columnist under the McGarrity name, specializing in nature and outdoor recreation. While continuing to produce McGarr novels, sometimes at the rate of one a year, Mr. McGarrity produced several articles a week for the newspaper. He wrote about a variety of topics ranging from environmental issues to the odd characters he encountered in his travels, like an Eastern European immigrant who grew up watching cowboy movies and found his dream job playing Wyatt Earp in an amusement park in rural New Jersey.
Mr. McGarrity also published five novels under his own name.
Series:
* Peter McGarr Mystery
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 40 reviews
April 8, 2019
This is a highly literary Irish police procedural centered in Dublin.
Ulysses by James Joyce is the fulcrum; the characters are richly complex; the murder investigation is uniquely challenging; the plot organization maintains its anchorage in the essence of Dublin.
This is a very rewarding reading experience.
Bloomsday celebration in Dublin is marred by the murder of one of the foremost experts on James Joyce, Trinity professor Kevin Coyle. Our man McGarr is notified by way of Coyle's wife who hunts him down at home. A wonderfully warm June day encouraged the police superintendent to go home and work in his garden, so he did not welcome this interruption of a woman claiming her husband was missing. Of course this initial complaint turned into something quite different. Mrs. Coyle and two other women had taken Coyle's dead body from where it was propped in a cemetery and loaded it onto a cart, bringing it home to prop up in his bed days earlier.
The investigation includes a wonderful discussion of James Joyce at Trinity, good enough to qualify as a college lecture and delving into the personal lives of a number of suspects producing sometimes startling lifestyles.
There are many humorous episodes, healthy and questionable bedroom appetites and deceptive practices uncovered by the detailed questioning and home visits. There are personal developments for McGarr that are life changing in this book, perhaps more joyful for his wife than for him.
Just a sample of a discussion McGarr had with one of the suspects:
"But what if love is an illusion and exists only in the mind of 'heart' of the lover, and that sort of love, if any, which the loved one holds for the lover can never be the same, or at least expressed similarly. Then what is love but the central lie in the grand fiction that human beings---who are categorically and unreconstructably singular - can communicate and 'become one' as romantics would have it and the mating process suggests? That process in fact only further fractures the possibility, since it creates yet another...We are born individuals who possess no innate knowledge. We are a void that is filled up with illusions. Love is one, or better, a multiple of illusions. Even the way we express what we feel or think is an artifice, created in words or notes or shapes or gestures that really can't accurately express us in our own terms, since we have none of our own. We are nothing but transitory holding vessels for those same illusions...Thus Beckett would reject any sympathy for the human condition beyond whatever sympathy we might feel for ourselves which itself can only be flawed because expressed...in the terms of others."
Fair warning: Some adult content with playful sex
Ulysses by James Joyce is the fulcrum; the characters are richly complex; the murder investigation is uniquely challenging; the plot organization maintains its anchorage in the essence of Dublin.
This is a very rewarding reading experience.
Bloomsday celebration in Dublin is marred by the murder of one of the foremost experts on James Joyce, Trinity professor Kevin Coyle. Our man McGarr is notified by way of Coyle's wife who hunts him down at home. A wonderfully warm June day encouraged the police superintendent to go home and work in his garden, so he did not welcome this interruption of a woman claiming her husband was missing. Of course this initial complaint turned into something quite different. Mrs. Coyle and two other women had taken Coyle's dead body from where it was propped in a cemetery and loaded it onto a cart, bringing it home to prop up in his bed days earlier.
The investigation includes a wonderful discussion of James Joyce at Trinity, good enough to qualify as a college lecture and delving into the personal lives of a number of suspects producing sometimes startling lifestyles.
There are many humorous episodes, healthy and questionable bedroom appetites and deceptive practices uncovered by the detailed questioning and home visits. There are personal developments for McGarr that are life changing in this book, perhaps more joyful for his wife than for him.
Just a sample of a discussion McGarr had with one of the suspects:
"But what if love is an illusion and exists only in the mind of 'heart' of the lover, and that sort of love, if any, which the loved one holds for the lover can never be the same, or at least expressed similarly. Then what is love but the central lie in the grand fiction that human beings---who are categorically and unreconstructably singular - can communicate and 'become one' as romantics would have it and the mating process suggests? That process in fact only further fractures the possibility, since it creates yet another...We are born individuals who possess no innate knowledge. We are a void that is filled up with illusions. Love is one, or better, a multiple of illusions. Even the way we express what we feel or think is an artifice, created in words or notes or shapes or gestures that really can't accurately express us in our own terms, since we have none of our own. We are nothing but transitory holding vessels for those same illusions...Thus Beckett would reject any sympathy for the human condition beyond whatever sympathy we might feel for ourselves which itself can only be flawed because expressed...in the terms of others."
Fair warning: Some adult content with playful sex
February 1, 2020
From the back my edition (my comments in italicized brackets):
Who stabbed Irish author/professor/philanderer Kevin Coyle to death on Bloomsday [and who really cares?]--Dublin's annual citywide celebration honoring its most beloved literary figure? who brought the promising career of the brilliant scholar to an abrupt and bloody end on Joyce's own "Murderer's Ground?" [repeat chorus: and who really cares? Apparently not his wife and her "Sisters."] The list of suspects seems endless \[Is anyone surprised after learning about the man? Not me.]--from deceived wives to cuckolded husbands to spike-haired street punks. And Chief Superintendent Peter McGarr is about to discover that the motive for homicide can hide as easily in the pages of a classic book as in the twisted passions of a human heart.
This novel makes about as much sense to me as Joyce's Ulysses.
There. That's my review in a nutshell. But if you must have more, then here we go. Kevin Coyle is not a victim that you care about. Despite McGarr's wife moaning and groaning about the loss of such a brilliant mind, the man himself wasn't anything to write home about. Reading murder mysteries, one generally has some sort of sympathy for the victim. Or at least is on the side of law and order and wants to see justice served. But, honestly, it didn't matter much to me if McGarr figured out who did it (and it didn't seem to matter much to him either about mid-way through).
And I had no patience with the whole "Sisters" moving the dead man's body around and having some kind of allergic reaction to calling the police. They took him from his position propped up against an alleyway wall, toted him in a cart a couple miles, and propped him up in his own bed. And left him that way for three days before his wife (one of the "Sisters") brings McGarr into it. And then she keeps on insisting (for every daft thing she and her friends do along the way) that "Kev would have wanted it that way." [Annoyed the crap out of me--best thing about that is it helped me to fulfill the "character that frustrated you" category on one of my challenges.]
I really don't have anything positive to say about this one. The mystery plot didn't do much for me. The intertwining with Joyce and Ulysses did even less. And there weren't even good characters that could make the thing more palatable. One of the few academic-related books that I'll probably kick off my book stacks permanently.
First posted on my blog--My Reader's Block.
Who stabbed Irish author/professor/philanderer Kevin Coyle to death on Bloomsday [and who really cares?]--Dublin's annual citywide celebration honoring its most beloved literary figure? who brought the promising career of the brilliant scholar to an abrupt and bloody end on Joyce's own "Murderer's Ground?" [repeat chorus: and who really cares? Apparently not his wife and her "Sisters."] The list of suspects seems endless \[Is anyone surprised after learning about the man? Not me.]--from deceived wives to cuckolded husbands to spike-haired street punks. And Chief Superintendent Peter McGarr is about to discover that the motive for homicide can hide as easily in the pages of a classic book as in the twisted passions of a human heart.
This novel makes about as much sense to me as Joyce's Ulysses.
There. That's my review in a nutshell. But if you must have more, then here we go. Kevin Coyle is not a victim that you care about. Despite McGarr's wife moaning and groaning about the loss of such a brilliant mind, the man himself wasn't anything to write home about. Reading murder mysteries, one generally has some sort of sympathy for the victim. Or at least is on the side of law and order and wants to see justice served. But, honestly, it didn't matter much to me if McGarr figured out who did it (and it didn't seem to matter much to him either about mid-way through).
And I had no patience with the whole "Sisters" moving the dead man's body around and having some kind of allergic reaction to calling the police. They took him from his position propped up against an alleyway wall, toted him in a cart a couple miles, and propped him up in his own bed. And left him that way for three days before his wife (one of the "Sisters") brings McGarr into it. And then she keeps on insisting (for every daft thing she and her friends do along the way) that "Kev would have wanted it that way." [Annoyed the crap out of me--best thing about that is it helped me to fulfill the "character that frustrated you" category on one of my challenges.]
I really don't have anything positive to say about this one. The mystery plot didn't do much for me. The intertwining with Joyce and Ulysses did even less. And there weren't even good characters that could make the thing more palatable. One of the few academic-related books that I'll probably kick off my book stacks permanently.
First posted on my blog--My Reader's Block.
June 12, 2019
This mystery has a promising start, and a great premise. A brilliant Joyce scholar named Kevin Coyle is murdered on Bloomsday on the “Murderers’ Ground” in Dublin, a site straight out of Joyce’s Ulysses. As Chief Superintendent Peter McGarr probes into the parallels between the victim and the famous novel, he discovers a sleazy circle of acquaintances who might have wanted Coyle dead. Professional and licentious entanglements abound.
McGarr is forced to finally read Ireland’s most famous novel, and the literary forays are the best part of this haphazard book. Otherwise, the plot never really flows, and the anticlimactic solution to the mystery is an unworthy Deus ex Machina. The author sometimes seems more invested in a side plot in which two detectives discover their mutual attraction; steamy sex ensues.
Meh.
McGarr is forced to finally read Ireland’s most famous novel, and the literary forays are the best part of this haphazard book. Otherwise, the plot never really flows, and the anticlimactic solution to the mystery is an unworthy Deus ex Machina. The author sometimes seems more invested in a side plot in which two detectives discover their mutual attraction; steamy sex ensues.
Meh.
November 21, 2017
On page 295 of this stinker of a novel the main character, presumably the heroic protagonist and Chief Superintendant of the Dublin Murder Squad, realizes he doesn't know whodunit and, deciding he can't be bothered to pursue it any longer, discontinues investigation of the case. After a line break the next sentence is: "Months went by." I'd known for a long while how sub-par a novel Bartholomew Gill's THE DEATH OF A JOYCE SCHOLAR was, of course, but now I desired terribly to throw it very hard across the room.
A short while later the story, such as it is, wraps up. In the inevitable showdown between our flimsy hero and a bevy of incompetent villains, I still could not figure out whodunit or whyhedunit or howhedunit, none of which mattered to me in the least. Only in the last few pages when a trial is given a cursory description did I learn who the culprit had been. Yawn.
That's just plot. A tribe of forgettable schlups mosey ineffectually through the novel in the guise of putative characters, occasionally knowing success not because of keen intellect but by stumbling blindly into a bit of what might be deemed astonishing luck in someone else's novel. The prose is unenergetic and digressive. The unbelievable improbabilities pile up and implode the novel early on.
Concerning the lukewarm James Joyce connections, it appears that the author probably felt compelled to write a novel to somehow earn compensation for the time he spent reading ULYSSES once. That is, Bartholomew Gill would never himself have been mistaken for a Joyce scholar. But as Gill (Mark C McGarrity) is no longer numbered among the living, let us forego any more negative thoughts and end in the comic mode.
One of my favorite bits was when the Chief Inspector reads ULYSSES one night when he can't sleep.
A short while later the story, such as it is, wraps up. In the inevitable showdown between our flimsy hero and a bevy of incompetent villains, I still could not figure out whodunit or whyhedunit or howhedunit, none of which mattered to me in the least. Only in the last few pages when a trial is given a cursory description did I learn who the culprit had been. Yawn.
That's just plot. A tribe of forgettable schlups mosey ineffectually through the novel in the guise of putative characters, occasionally knowing success not because of keen intellect but by stumbling blindly into a bit of what might be deemed astonishing luck in someone else's novel. The prose is unenergetic and digressive. The unbelievable improbabilities pile up and implode the novel early on.
Concerning the lukewarm James Joyce connections, it appears that the author probably felt compelled to write a novel to somehow earn compensation for the time he spent reading ULYSSES once. That is, Bartholomew Gill would never himself have been mistaken for a Joyce scholar. But as Gill (Mark C McGarrity) is no longer numbered among the living, let us forego any more negative thoughts and end in the comic mode.
One of my favorite bits was when the Chief Inspector reads ULYSSES one night when he can't sleep.
October 30, 2013
A lovely idea for a mystery - a man is murdered in Dublin on Bloomsday, and the police must search for clues in Ulysses - is utterly failed by a miserable execution. Haphazardly drawn characters, unconvincing dialogue, a plot that never hangs hang together, and an out of the blue solution that has nothing to do with anything. And, it's badly written. What a crushing disappointment.
September 6, 2014
Liked the serious literary reflections on Joyce, Beckett and Dublin, and the local Irish color as well. The investigation itself seemed to go on forever and wander awhile and the description of women by the male characters was misogynistic and entirely physical. I liked the setting, even the setting largely in McGarr's head, but that misogyny really was old school ugly and disconcerting.
July 11, 2016
What fun to find a new mystery series with good locale and characters. Story revolves around the murder of a well known young Joyce scholar & Trinity University professor, found dead the morning after Bloomsday after his day and night long portrayal of James Joyce. Especially liked the reflections on Irish literature, especially Joyce and Beckett, and the Irish character. Fun, too, for the police detectives to pull out Ulysses and try to get through it, looking for clues. Odd note though for this book written in 1989 -- women are described in a way that seems at least 25 years behind the times, in physical terms only (including the female detective).
October 24, 2016
This is my introduction to this series, and the story is a bit both dense and slow--until we get to actual interaction among characters. The second half picks up the pace, but the first drags with all the James Joyce quotations and the lengthy literary discussions about Joyce and Beckett. If one has never read Joyce's Ulysses, this book provides a thorough introduction as the case involves a Joyce scholar murdered after leading a Bloomsday tour in Dublin. I might read another McGarr mystery, but I'm not inclined to search out the series.
November 3, 2025
Plot
Chief Inspector Peter McGarr immerses himself in the text of James Joyce’s “Ulysses” to retrace the steps of both murderer and victim in the case of Joyce scholar Kevin Coyle’s Bloomsday murder.
My Analysis
I’d read one of Gill’s novels a while ago and thought I’d grab more. Let me say that the plot that related to the murder was fine. Some good suspects, a lot of lies, a bit of scandal. All well and good.
The characters were, for the most part, distinctive. Except for a couple—Ward and Bresnahan—most of the cops tended to blend together. The side stories with Ward and Bresnahan getting together and McGarr and his wife trying to have a baby were enjoyable.
Not much, but enough descriptions of the neighborhood of Dublin where the scenes took place to have my mental movie screen flickering.
Problems I had were:
Long narrative and dialogue sentences with a lot of “asides” or judgments thrown in. Review the above sentence first mentioning the two cops set in between “M” dashes. The author had scores of them throughout.
The other problem I had was I know this was about the murder of a guy into James Joyce. I know, okay? The author didn’t have to beat me over the head time after time after time with diatribes and long dialogues about Joyce and Becket and Becket and Joyce and drumming Ulysses into my head and opinions about Ulysses time after time…
It was way too much and ended up being filler. Gill must have needed more word count so filled the book with characters expounding about Joyce. Too much and t took away from the good stuff of the murder investigation. I don’t know if Gill does this type of stuff in his other McGarr books—haven’t read them, yet—but I hope he doesn’t.
I’m hard-pressed to give this one anything more than a Green Belt, and I can’t, in good conscious, do so.
Chief Inspector Peter McGarr immerses himself in the text of James Joyce’s “Ulysses” to retrace the steps of both murderer and victim in the case of Joyce scholar Kevin Coyle’s Bloomsday murder.
My Analysis
I’d read one of Gill’s novels a while ago and thought I’d grab more. Let me say that the plot that related to the murder was fine. Some good suspects, a lot of lies, a bit of scandal. All well and good.
The characters were, for the most part, distinctive. Except for a couple—Ward and Bresnahan—most of the cops tended to blend together. The side stories with Ward and Bresnahan getting together and McGarr and his wife trying to have a baby were enjoyable.
Not much, but enough descriptions of the neighborhood of Dublin where the scenes took place to have my mental movie screen flickering.
Problems I had were:
Long narrative and dialogue sentences with a lot of “asides” or judgments thrown in. Review the above sentence first mentioning the two cops set in between “M” dashes. The author had scores of them throughout.
The other problem I had was I know this was about the murder of a guy into James Joyce. I know, okay? The author didn’t have to beat me over the head time after time after time with diatribes and long dialogues about Joyce and Becket and Becket and Joyce and drumming Ulysses into my head and opinions about Ulysses time after time…
It was way too much and ended up being filler. Gill must have needed more word count so filled the book with characters expounding about Joyce. Too much and t took away from the good stuff of the murder investigation. I don’t know if Gill does this type of stuff in his other McGarr books—haven’t read them, yet—but I hope he doesn’t.
I’m hard-pressed to give this one anything more than a Green Belt, and I can’t, in good conscious, do so.
July 4, 2019
I got this book from a book basket at a silent auction at church. It's an engaging view of Dublin, Ireland and an excellent appetite-whetter for James Joyce's Ulysses. It shows its age - it has a number of scenes in which men you are supposed to like ogle women which grossed me out. Despite that, I found the novel entertaining, I had to look up words which I enjoyed, and the story gave me a lot to think and talk about.
January 7, 2019
Although I enjoyed all the references to Dublin and the lilting Irish dialog, there were too many confusing characters which did not pull together until the final pages. The author’s vocabulary and style flows well. But muddling through all the characters made reading this book a chore for me.
August 27, 2022
Another great murder mystery setting McGarr on a trail with many suspects, all with some sort of motive against one of Ireland's premier scholars of Joyce. The trail of clues continually tangle various suspects but never seems to lead to the one. A thoroughly enjoyable murder mystery.
July 14, 2020
Brilliant, funny, sexy, tight and learned. You don’t have to have read Joyce, but it helps.
November 5, 2020
delightfully entangled murder mystery into Joyce's Ullysses. ALMOST makes me want to try reading Ullysses again...
January 22, 2021
Love the McGarry mysteries!
July 1, 2023
Despite trying I never made it through Ulysses. So to read McGarr make it through with his insights plus working a murder Plus a romance in the murder squad made this book quite good.
February 23, 2017
Kept me guessing until near the end. Thoroughly enjoy this series. This particular book had some witty dialogue throughout AND references to Joyce's Ulysses and Beckett's works. Although having not read either of those authors would not take away from enjoyment of the mystery, I was rather pleased with myself that I could catch some of the Joyce parallels. I should get something for slogging through Ulysses!!!!
Set in Dublin, a Joyce scholar is discovered murdered on Bloomsday, it is up to Chief Superintendent McGarr and his Murder Squad to sort out all the players and a quirky lot they are too!
Set in Dublin, a Joyce scholar is discovered murdered on Bloomsday, it is up to Chief Superintendent McGarr and his Murder Squad to sort out all the players and a quirky lot they are too!
June 22, 2018
Cosa c'è dietro l'omicidio, avvenuto alla fine del Bloomsday, di Kevin Coyle, letterato esperto nell'opera di Joyce? È quello che il capo della squadra omicidi, Peter McGarr, deve scoprire in questo libro. E dire che McGarr, pur essendo dublinese dalla testa ai piedi, non ha mai letto l'Ulisse...
Come avrete intuito, la vera protagonista di questo giallo è Dublino. La Dublino della fine degli anni '80, per la precisione (il libro è del 1989), che immagino essere molto diversa da quella odierna diventata improvvisamente ricca; gli omicidi magari non sono cambiati più di tanto, ma di famiglie con dieci figli in dodici anni non ce ne sono più tante. La descrizione dei luoghi, soprattutto nei primi capitoli, è così dettagliata da risultare un po' stucchevole, e ci sono alcuni brani - per esempio la parte iniziale con la descrizione della famiglia di Coyle - che sembrano essere buttati lì un po' a caso senza avere alcuna attinenza con il resto della storia. Superate le prime cinquanta pagine, però, la trama migliora indubbiamente, e la lettura si fa molto più scorrevole e piacevole: non sarà insomma un capolavoro, ma non è nemmeno da buttare via, soprattutto per chi ama la letteratura irlandese del '900 e si ritrova nelle diversità di stile tra Joyce e Beckett. Al limite ci si può lamentare perché il titolo, davvero bello, farebbe sperare in qualcosa di più!
La traduzione in genere è chiara, tranne che nel penultimo capitolo dove uno un po' disattento si perde tra i personaggi. Verso metà libro, però, Gianna Lonza si dev'essere messa a sonnecchiare: a pagina 117 abbiamo "sessant'anni e dispari" ("sixty years and odd"?) invece che "sessant'anni e rotti", e a pagina 120 un "punto alla fine di un periodo" ("period"?) è presumibilmente alla fine di "una frase". A pagina 192 poi si continua a parlare di cibo "organico", quando "organic" sta per "biologico" (e le battute sarebbero venute ancora meglio con la traduzione corretta)
Come avrete intuito, la vera protagonista di questo giallo è Dublino. La Dublino della fine degli anni '80, per la precisione (il libro è del 1989), che immagino essere molto diversa da quella odierna diventata improvvisamente ricca; gli omicidi magari non sono cambiati più di tanto, ma di famiglie con dieci figli in dodici anni non ce ne sono più tante. La descrizione dei luoghi, soprattutto nei primi capitoli, è così dettagliata da risultare un po' stucchevole, e ci sono alcuni brani - per esempio la parte iniziale con la descrizione della famiglia di Coyle - che sembrano essere buttati lì un po' a caso senza avere alcuna attinenza con il resto della storia. Superate le prime cinquanta pagine, però, la trama migliora indubbiamente, e la lettura si fa molto più scorrevole e piacevole: non sarà insomma un capolavoro, ma non è nemmeno da buttare via, soprattutto per chi ama la letteratura irlandese del '900 e si ritrova nelle diversità di stile tra Joyce e Beckett. Al limite ci si può lamentare perché il titolo, davvero bello, farebbe sperare in qualcosa di più!
La traduzione in genere è chiara, tranne che nel penultimo capitolo dove uno un po' disattento si perde tra i personaggi. Verso metà libro, però, Gianna Lonza si dev'essere messa a sonnecchiare: a pagina 117 abbiamo "sessant'anni e dispari" ("sixty years and odd"?) invece che "sessant'anni e rotti", e a pagina 120 un "punto alla fine di un periodo" ("period"?) è presumibilmente alla fine di "una frase". A pagina 192 poi si continua a parlare di cibo "organico", quando "organic" sta per "biologico" (e le battute sarebbero venute ancora meglio con la traduzione corretta)
(recensione anche sul mio blog, http://xmau.com/notiziole/arch/200807... )
December 19, 2014
For reasons that are not entirely clear to me, one of the pleasures of being a reader of mysteries is that you get to visit a lot of interesting places around the globe. And a lot of those visits come courtesy of a writer who was raised in England or America and now lives like a local in a foreign metropolis, like Rome, or Bangkok, or Bartholomew Gill's Dublin. Here is a rough and tumble, vibrant city that is portrayed with the love and humor that only a semi-outsider would feel for the place. This Irish-American writer also has a respect for the culture and an appreciation for the nation's literature, so that between the covers here one encounters discussions of Joyce and Beckett, as well as fisticuffs and the grilling of accomplices.
In this Peter McGarr mystery, Kevin Coyle, a brilliant young literature professor is found murdered, shortly after leading a drunken tour recreating Joyce's Bloomsday adventures. There are several possible suspects - a couple of jealous colleagues, a mistress or two, perhaps even his long suffering wife. Coyle may have been well-organized on paper, but his actual life was a little out of control. Gill takes us along for the investigation, but in this kind of mystery, the pleasure comes more from the journey than the whodunit. One of the better points is Ruth Bresnahan, a young cop, a big-boned girl off the farm, who assists on the case and gets involved with Hughie Ward, a womanizing ex-boxer and also a member of McGarr's murder squad. McGarr is a good, solid detective - he is smart, experienced, and sensible, the devoted husband of an attractive young lady who works in publishing and a big fan of a good pint. He gives the story ballast without overshadowing the suspects, which is of course where the color in a good mystery comes from. This was a very good one, and deserves a place of respect on the shelf of colorful mysteries set in foreign locales.
In this Peter McGarr mystery, Kevin Coyle, a brilliant young literature professor is found murdered, shortly after leading a drunken tour recreating Joyce's Bloomsday adventures. There are several possible suspects - a couple of jealous colleagues, a mistress or two, perhaps even his long suffering wife. Coyle may have been well-organized on paper, but his actual life was a little out of control. Gill takes us along for the investigation, but in this kind of mystery, the pleasure comes more from the journey than the whodunit. One of the better points is Ruth Bresnahan, a young cop, a big-boned girl off the farm, who assists on the case and gets involved with Hughie Ward, a womanizing ex-boxer and also a member of McGarr's murder squad. McGarr is a good, solid detective - he is smart, experienced, and sensible, the devoted husband of an attractive young lady who works in publishing and a big fan of a good pint. He gives the story ballast without overshadowing the suspects, which is of course where the color in a good mystery comes from. This was a very good one, and deserves a place of respect on the shelf of colorful mysteries set in foreign locales.
May 24, 2021
Having been briefly an avid Joyce Scholar, I looked forward to this book in anticipation of some smart literary tricks and references worthy of Joyce. Having heard the author’s stellar reputation for engaging “Irish Mysteries” featuring Dublin’s Chief Superintendent Peter McGarr, I was doubly enticed.
I enjoy a good mystery and, despite my disdain for the really spade-nosed Joycean, the cracking of a wise pun or a slightly off-center literary or linguistic allusion.
When Trinity College’s foremost Joyce expert and portrayer, Kevin Coyle, is murdered on Bloomsday (the date of Joyce's Ulysses), McGarrity introduces us to half-baked, bland Dubliners in a city known for quirky characters and colorful eccentrics (of which Joyce is the favorite). The victim, for whom we should like to feel sad, proved to be as interesting and sympathetic as street litter.
After some rambling about sexual deviancies and ineffective, inept, attempts to link the murder to Joycean prose, I was ready to stop reading. I forged ahead simply to see if there was anything of redeeming quality in the solving. There was not. It was a “wrap” unworthy of Detective Chief Charlie Chan, let alone Maigret or Poirot.
What could have been a nuanced, insightful mystery of character with true Irish irreverence, Guinness, and Blarney turned out to be merely a pedestrian yarn of no distinction. Who cares? Save your shillings and buy elsewhere.
I enjoy a good mystery and, despite my disdain for the really spade-nosed Joycean, the cracking of a wise pun or a slightly off-center literary or linguistic allusion.
When Trinity College’s foremost Joyce expert and portrayer, Kevin Coyle, is murdered on Bloomsday (the date of Joyce's Ulysses), McGarrity introduces us to half-baked, bland Dubliners in a city known for quirky characters and colorful eccentrics (of which Joyce is the favorite). The victim, for whom we should like to feel sad, proved to be as interesting and sympathetic as street litter.
After some rambling about sexual deviancies and ineffective, inept, attempts to link the murder to Joycean prose, I was ready to stop reading. I forged ahead simply to see if there was anything of redeeming quality in the solving. There was not. It was a “wrap” unworthy of Detective Chief Charlie Chan, let alone Maigret or Poirot.
What could have been a nuanced, insightful mystery of character with true Irish irreverence, Guinness, and Blarney turned out to be merely a pedestrian yarn of no distinction. Who cares? Save your shillings and buy elsewhere.
July 7, 2010
This was recommended to me by a friend who had posted a "Bloomsday" greeting on Facebook. When I admitted that even after a dozen or so tries, I had never made it all the way through "Ulysses", he said he hadn't either but had enjoyed this mystery very much. I enjoyed it also and will read more of the Peter McGarr mysteries. I liked the sense of place, the way it gave me a feeling of what everyday life in Dublin would be like. It is also a good police procedural, and I look forward to becoming better acquainted with all the detectives in this crew. An unexpected bonus is I think I may have a clue as to how to handle "Ulysses" itself more effectively. I think perhaps I won't take it so seriously and look for meaning in each line, but will just let go and let the richness of the language, the poetry, sweep me away. We'll see.
February 1, 2011
Dublino 16 giugno: ovunque si festeggia Bloomsday, la giornata commemorativa dell’Ulisse di Joyce. Un accademico del Trinity College di Dublino ed esperto studioso dello scrittore irlandese, viene trovato morto nei pressi di un cimitero. L’indagine viene affidata ad un ispettore “dublinese doc” nonché capo della squadra omicidi, che si trova ben presto invischiato in un caso che intreccia passioni amorose... e un libro.La soluzione di questo complicato delitto dovrà infatti passare attraverso un’accurata analisi dei personaggi dell’Ulisse. Sullo sfondo della Dublino di Joyce, una trama che intreccia fiction e realtà, in un continuo rincorrersi e riflettersi di personaggi reali e letterari.
March 10, 2011
A professor of James Joyce at Trinity College in Dublin is murdered, and detective Peter McCarr, whom I'm reading about for the first time despite its being the 8th book in this series. McCarr finds that he must learn much more about James Joyce, and Ulysses in particular, in order to solve this crime. I've not always enjoyed mysteries from the UK, but this one was so much more than just a police procedural. The language, the references, were sometimes quite foreign to me, but this book is so erudite compared to the usual mystery that I couldn't put it down until I'd finished.
March 9, 2015
I just finished the first book in this series, and was not that impressed except that it was fairly short. Then started this one and it was much more readable -- so I guess the author has perfected his character. Makes me think I should pick up Ulysses since it is pretty much the main character in the story. But that will probably not happen. Enjoyed this story very much especially some of the new characters.
April 26, 2009
The book that drove me to buy Ulysses. I didn't know that book was supposed to take place in 18 hours and that is, allegedly, how long it should take to read it. I've been reading it for years now.
December 28, 2010
Well written police procedural, with an interesting Joyce tie-in. I enjoyed it and will probably read a few more in this series, in spite of the author's taste for cute Irish-ness. It did inspire me to tackle Ulysses again ...
November 20, 2007
In the summer of 2002 I became obsessed with Bartholomew Gill's series of detective novels. They are the only mysteries I've ever read, and I hold them close to my heart.
February 13, 2008
I'm not a mystery fan, but I read this for my book club. I think it was only fair, but then, I'm no Joyce scholar!
March 24, 2009
Excellent, well-paced mystery for those that love mixing literary with the crime mystery genre.
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May 15, 2009Very good, much better than the earlier books in this series. McGarr's character really took a personality. And the Breshnahan/Ward relationship was a surprise.
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