Snow (John Banville, Hanover Square Press, 2020)

An atmospheric, literary treat in the mystery genre, John Banville's Snow is and is not what you expect it to be. It is mystery in the Agatha Christie mode. Full of contextual description, relying on the ever-present snow motif, nestled in 1957 Ireland, with the characters you might expect: a Catholic priest whose sudden death is surrounded in intrigue, the obligatory detective in an unknown geographical locale, the esoteric personalities of a small community. And, of course, there is the overshadowing presence of the Roman Catholic Church and its hierarchy, depicted at the height of its influence in post-World War II Ireland. That's what you might expect.

You might not expect, however, the author's beautiful use of language. Whether he is loquaciously describing the falling snow, its variations and evidences, or in recording the unique dialects in this southeastern Irish community, Banville has crafted a literary volume unlike most mystery books you have read. Truth be told, there are times when his descriptions are so captivating and multi-layered, the reader becomes either enchanted or disoriented (you choose which), losing sight of the facts in evidence.

Especially notable is Banville's close attention to historic contextual detail. He carefully describes the eccentricities of 1957 automobiles (down to the way the gears are engaged). He reminds the reader that heating systems in 1957 Ireland are not like those of 2020. Flowing descriptions of clothing and food allow the reader to step back more than sixty years in time.

Another unexpected pleasure is his generous development of character. Unlike most popular mystery authors, Banville invests time and eloquence in his intriguing cast of characters. They are complex, unique and never relegated to the banality of much modern mystery writing.

In the midst of the beauty and depth of Snow, there is a final quality you might not expect. The reader (even one not enamored with character depth, expansive vocabulary and descriptive context) will deduce quite early in the book the cause for the priest's bloody demise, as well as the instigator of said death.

But wait. Are you sure? Do you know for certain who the killer is?

While there are enough details to allow the reader to close the book with some sense of finality, there is the nagging feeling that perhaps there is more to come. Perhaps Detective Saint John (yes, that is his first name, pronounced "Sinjin") Strofford (yes, that is with an "r") is not quite finished. With this case or others to come. Stay tuned!