It begins as a crime story: our narrator tells us that he killed a man and stole his money, but his partner in crime Divney won't tell where the money is kept. Our unnamed narrator is so suspicious of Divney that he never lets Divney out of his sight, even sharing a bed with him at night. The story only gets sillier, stranger, and darker from there; the Narrator talks to a ghost who can only answer questions No, meets a policeman who believes everyone is transforming into bicycles and even hears the voice of his own soul (which, for the sake of convenience, he decides to name Joe). And on top of all this, our narrator shares the bizarre theories of de Selby, an eccentric scientist who believes that the earth is sausage-shaped and that night-time is merely pollution of black air. Like a paranoid's visit to Wonderland, the story is full of mad and loopy fun with a steady unsettling undercurrent. It's a wonderfully strange trip as only Ireland can supply.
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