Areview copy of Shade comes with two pages of admonitory blurb about what an important film-maker Neil Jordan is. This information might be useful for those with gossip columns to fill but it has no more bearing on the likelihood of this being a good novel than if we were told that the author is big in Morris dancing. Either John Murray is indifferent to reviewers in its new berth at HodderHeadline, or the message is, Don’t dare review this badly, pipsqueak, cos we can make sure you never work again … Then there is this quote from John Banville, Ireland’s best writer: ‘With this fierce, dark and yet luminous novel, Neil Jordan once again demonstrates that he is one of Ireland’s most talented artists.’ One can almost hear the clink of glasses.
A point can come in a novel when, no matter what the author does, the reader is irretrievably lost.
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