Although I have been a long-time fan of the Irish writer William Trevor, it was only in 2016 – amid the flood of tributes following his death – that I first heard of what has become one of my favourite novels, Mrs Eckdorf in O’Neill’s Hotel.
In honouring Trevor, fellow Irishman John Banville described Mrs Eckdorf in O’Neill’s Hotel, first published in 1969, as “an inexplicably neglected 20th-century masterpiece”. His recommendation sent me scurrying to source a copy.
