Flann O'Brien's The Third Policeman is a novel ahead of its time, more like the novels of the sixties it was posthumously published in than those of the 1930s, the decade it was written in. From its opening confession of murder, causally and casually attributed to the influence of a "lazy and idle-minded" companion, the novel's unnamed protagonist relates his misadventures in a detached, first-person voice which makes him seem more an observer of–rather than a participant in–his own life.

Augmenting the saga of his efforts to avoid being hung for the aforementioned murder with a series of footnotes that would make David Foster Wallace proud, the narrator alternates between intellectual discussions of the obscure philosopher de Selby and the absurd doings of the local police force. The force consists of the pragmatic Sergeant Pluck, whose primary concern is the whereabouts and welfare of local bicycles, the mechanically gifted Policeman MacCruiskeen, whose fantastic inventions are not only beyond human understanding but often intentionally hazardous to their wellbeing, and the elusive Policeman Fox, who spends his nights away from the station invisibly and efficiently solving crimes. While trying to escape his fate at the hands the local constabulary, the protagonist spends time in eternity, is disappointed when the rescue mission of his wooden legged patron saint is thwarted by MacCruiskeen's dementia-inducing pigment, and finds himself inside the walls of his victim's house before finally discovering he has been dead for most of the novel, wandering through hell in punishment of his crime.

The footnotes tell a tale of their own, the strange competition between de Selby's commentators as they argue over the interpretation of his contradictory philosophy, such as his beliefs that night is caused by "accretions of black air" and that man should have no fear of the hallucination of death, since both life and day and night are mere hallucinations themselves.

The Third Policeman is peopled with memorable characters in logically absurd situations that will keep you thoroughly entertained. ( )

I liked this much more than At Swim Two Birds, which I found deeply and needlessly confusing. Third Policeman felt more straightforward to me and had a sort of absurd and melancholy charm to it. Not sure I'll dive into anymore Flann O'Brien, but I'm glad I picked this one up if only because of it's obvious fondness for bicycles and it's rather clever ending. ( )

Another of the books I read twenty or more years ago. I read a lot of Flann O'Brien then and particularly enjoyed the collections of his journalism, but hadn't looked at any of his work since. I can say that I liked The Third Policeman just as much as the first time I read it, but with more years behind me see completely different things in it. Then it was a comic, absurd fantasy; now it reads as a much darker, surreal piece. The comedy is still there - the way bicycles and their riders start becoming more alike over the years - but it underpins what is essentially a vision of some sort of hell. There is a certain ornateness to the language which adds to the darkly comic feel, and it's certainly a book worth reading more than once. ( )

Avrei potuto appartenere a una solitaria spiaggia, o essere l'agonia del mare quando si abbatte disperato su di essa.
(198)

Come dire: esiste sempre un altro punto di vista (da percorrere su pista ciclabile).

Mai, finora, avevo creduto o sospettato di avere un'anima, ma in quel momento seppi d'averla. ... Per comodita', decisi di chiamarla Joe. (32)

"Perche' si dovrebbe rubare un orologio quando si puo' rubare una bicicletta?".
...
"Che ne so'?" dissi.
"Chi ha mai sentito di uno che monta in sella a un orologio o che si porta a casa un sacco di torba sul manubrio di un cronometro?".
(76)

"Non credo che andro' mai in bicicletta" dissi.
"A piccole dosi fa bene, irrobisticce e mette in corpo un po' di ferro. E poi andare a piedi troppo lontano, troppo spesso e troppo in fretta non e' affatto raccomandabile. Il continuo scrocchiare dei piedi per terra immette nel corpo una certa quantita' di strada. Quando un uomo muore, si dice che ritorna alla terra, ma camminare molto riempie di terra assai prima (o seppellisce lungo la strada particelle del corpo) e avvicina l'incontro con la morte. ...
(111)
( )

Some really funny and delightfully odd bits, but the awkward and yakky midsection did not gel for me. ( )