Snow (St. John Strafford, #2)

by John Banville

avatars of an ancient race,

He clung to the belief that death was more than mere extinction. His grandfather had been a bishop. The genes will out.

say, with much of our original innocence intact—I do believe there is original innocence, as well as original sin. There was a time before the apple of knowledge was eaten.” He glanced back at Strafford over his shoulder and caught his deprecating look. “Oh, I know, I know, you feel the people have been deliberately kept in ignorance. We might have grown to maturity, had we been allowed. But centuries of English oppression kept us back, kept us down—kept us, as I say, innocent. I hope I don’t offend you by speaking of these things? Your people—”

have the greatest respect for your Church and your creed, which has produced so many fine minds—and fine sensibilities, if I may put it that way. But then”—here he gave a little sigh—“Protestantism is not so much a religion as a reaction against a religion, isn’t that so?” He smiled at Strafford’s stony stare.

‘humankind cannot bear very much reality.’ The social contract is a fragile document. Do you take my point, at all?”

showing him the cigarette, “it’s broken in the middle. Why do fags have to be so breakable? I’ll have to smoke it in two goes.”

He recalled that the Greeks deplored symmetry, and considered beautiful only things that were a degree or two out of kilter. Mrs.