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{{infoboxsortinfobox1
|title=The Holy City
|author=Patrick McCabe
|date=January 2009
|isbn=0747598169
|amazonuk=<amazonuk>1596916117</amazonuk>
|amazonus=<amazonus>0747598169</amazonus>
|sort=Holy City, The
|covedr=1596916117
|aznuk=1596916117
|aznus=0747598169
}}
 
Chris McCool is 67. He likes to think of himself as a bit of a man about town; an elegantly ageing roue, if you like. He's enjoying his retirement with a much younger wife, Vesna, and he surely does enjoy reliving his glory days as a hep cat of the 1960s. Vesna doesn't seem to mind as he dresses her up in A line dresses and panda eyes. Chris lives in a gated community - but we soon discover that it's more halfway house than retreat of the rich. Because Chris is a raving nutter and unreliable narrator. I'm not giving it all away - there's none of this gradual dawning on you nonsense for the reader of ''The Holy City'', Chris McCool is mad, bad and well, as he'd have said himself in his younger days, completely out there.

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