Short listed for the Irish Times Prize 1995, this for me is the classic Irish novel of the latter part of the century, holding its own with anything by William Trevor or John Banville. The pun in the title directs us to the powerfully written and ironic tale of a patient diagnosed mentally ill. It details the patient's 33 sessions with his phsychoanalist and his rueful ruminations after each session. Gripping, amusing, and sardonic, it has all the qualities of a good detective story but leaves the reader guessing as to who is the detective, who the criminal who the shrink, who the head case. Shows how well the Irish language, in the hands or a master, can deal inventively with matters philosophical and psychological, without losing any of its music.