By Neil Jordan
'I were flawed for him such a lot of instances that once he died it was once as though a part of myself had died too.' Kevin Thunder grew up with a double - a boy so uncannily like him that they have been flawed for every different at each flip. As young ones in Sixties Dublin, one lived subsequent to Bram Stoker's apartment, haunted via an imagined Dracula, the opposite within the extra sophisticated areas of Palmerston Park. although divided, just like the urban itself, through heritage and sophistication, they shared an identical odor, a similar seems, and maybe, as he involves detect, an identical soul. They alternate identities while it fits them, as their lives take them to England and the USA, and locate that taking up another's character can result in darker areas than both had imagined. Neil Jordan's long-awaited new novel is a unprecedented success - a comedy of manners whilst a Gothic tragedy, a mystery and an elegy. It deals innovative leisure of the top order.
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Example text
It was something like the idea of God, the thought of this vam- pire: a being who could penetrate your thoughts, who could be everywhere and nowhere, from whom there was no hiding. I managed to forget it for hours, even days sometimes, but then another sound would bring the thought back—the creaking of the old sash from 27 36 28 MISTAKEN the bedroom window, the ticking of the clocks, but most of all the humming. Sights rarely did the same thing. The morning mist that hung around the park could have been him all right, a manifestation of God or the vampire, but a sight didn’t intrude on you, shock you into the remembrance that he was still there.
I could hear 2 2 2 2 34 26 MISTAKEN the cries of children from Fairview Park. I could hear the number 30 bus grinding towards the city centre. Everything changes and nothing changed at all. 35 Hawaii A n old lady had lived next door, Mrs. Considine, who wore tweed suits and carried a walking stick, and of course to my child’s mind she was the vampire’s caretaker, looking after the house for him in the daytime when daylight things needed to be done. Cleaning, I supposed, and the business of making sure the curtains kept out the sunlight.
And your last,’ he said and I was once again pushed through a set of glass doors, which he held closed with his boot behind them. I saw the sillhouettes of the passersby around the Pillar reflected in the glass with the neon lights behind and because I was older, maybe, I felt for the first time the freedom of being someone else. ’ you asked, as your sandwich arrived. ’ ‘I would like to be in a different city, in a different time. But with somebody else, now? Other than you? ’ I was stopped for a moment.