Fortunately, Black himself seems to have taken his work seriously, and the result is a compelling and beautifully written mystery about ineradicable corruption. The protagonist of Christine Falls is Quirke, who was adopted in his youth by a prominent Irish family after suffering for years in an orphanage. In the novel's opening pages, Quirke is surprised to encounter his adoptive brother, Mal, in the mortuary where Quirke now works as a pathologist. Mal is an obstetrician -- the contrast between the two brothers' medical professions is one of the novel's many nice touches -- but when Quirke sees him Mal is scribbling something into the death report of a young woman, Christine Falls. What does this girl mean to Mal? Mal insists that it's better for Quirke not to know. But Quirke is not satisfied.
Quirke's subsequent obsession with Christine Falls is highly implausible, but it serves as a convenient framework for Black's true interests: the tangled relationships and confused ethical obligations that have warped three generations of Quirke's adoptive family. The cast of characters is relatively small, but Black cleverly sets up overlapping layers of emotional resonances: Quirke's wife died in childbirth, as did Christine Falls (as Quirke quickly determines); Quirke is an orphan, like the young child adopted in a related storyline by a troubled American couple; Quirke's dead wife, Delia, is the sister of Mal's wife, Sarah; and so on. As a result of these parallels and contrasts, the characters seem to inhabit an organic universe in which consequences can't help but ripple from one corner of Ireland to another, and even across the Atlantic.
Black is an extraordinary observer of human interactions, and he conveys his impressions with brilliant precision and even more remarkable economy. An early dinner scene occupies only a few pages but delivers volumes on the characters' backstories and their current, fragile relationships. Black's skill with the pithy observation and the telling detail is astounding. So is his gift with voices. Although most of the characters in Christine Falls are Irish, one of the viewpoint characters is an American cowboy figure. Black doesn't stoop to corny "howdy's" and "y'alls" -- indeed, on the surface there is little difference between the American chapters and the Irish chapters -- but Black somehow infuses the cowboy's inner voice with the twang and swagger of the slicker he obviously considers himself to be.
The mystery at the heart of Christine Falls, though generally tightly plotted, unravels a little near the end -- my only real criticism of the book. It's not apparent to me why the operation that Quirke uncovers requires the criminal element that provides much of the novel's early sense of menace. The operation's aim also seems highly implausible. (Wouldn't Third World recruiting work just as well?) And the storyline of the young American couple concludes with two tragedies that reek of authorial intervention, and a hint of melodrama.
I can forgive these flaws because, as I said at the outset, it's clear that Black is not really focused on the mystery of Christine Falls. Christine Falls is best enjoyed as an elegant introduction to the deeper mysteries of Quirke's family. And in that respect, it's a tremendous and enthralling success.
Copyright © 2009 Steven Wu 