Next thing I know, the book (The City &, The City) got to describing its own invented alphabets. Da fah? I asked myself. Is this Tolkien now? The author had thanked Raymond Chandler in the intro but he was nowhere near that. I put it down, probably for good.
Then I picked up The Scarecrow by R H Morriessen. By page two it was already far more Chandleresque – when the narrator described his sisters as ‘getting married the bumpy way’.