Paul Murray's terrific second novel, "Skippy Dies" (2010), was a tragicomedy written around the premise of a young boy at a Dublin boarding school who died at a doughnut-eating contest in the opening scene. The unlikelihood of that scenario resulting in a novel so funny, sad and ­poignant seemed beyond the pale. Yet it was a wonderful read and a huge hit for the Irish author.

The plot of his newest novel, "The Mark and the Void," is also set in another dubious environment for success: A Parisian named Claude, who works for a mega-bank in Dublin as an investment analyst during the turbulent years of the banking crises, has been targeted by a down-on-his-luck novelist named Paul to be the subject of his latest book, about a banker who works in Dublin.

Claude, who is ethical, honest and good at what he does at work, has a dull life, as he'll be the first to admit. Initially he can't understand why a novelist would wish to focus on him as a subject. But Paul insists that Claude is the modern-day Everyman of Joyce's "Ulysses," a perfect character to represent Dublin of today. Soon Claude embraces the idea and so does everyone else at Claude's bank, who are thrilled to have Paul's presence in their world, each hoping for a brief appearance in the novel and for more excitement in their own lives.

Yet it doesn't take long for the project to stall, as Claude tells us: "It is increasingly clear that my non-life in Dublin has defeated Paul's powers of representation — and there is simply not enough here for his art to gain a foothold."

And in a way, that's also almost what happens to Murray's novel.

While his writing is fluid, his descriptions vivid, his characters developed, intriguing and even likable, the plot of "The Mark and the Void" is a bit of a jumble. It includes: a former KGB Ukrainian henchman named Igor; a Greek barista about whom Claude obsesses; Torabundo, an island-nation in the South Pacific tied to the assets of the bank; the Caliph of Oran, a notorious Middle-Eastern despot; a rival novelist named Bimal Banerjee; hints of a planned bank robbery, and an attempted art heist of a painting by an obscure French philosopher who happened to be one of Claude's heroes in school.

As convoluted as this all sounds — and it truly is — somehow Murray pulls it together and produces an entertaining novel. "The Mark and the Void" takes the reader on a wild ride through contemporary Dublin, with global issues of financial gloom and doom at its backdrop, and the notions of what it means to write a novel in the 21st century as a subplot.

And even if Claude is a boring, non-Irish Everyman near the River Liffey, who confuses events in his life with those in "his" novel, when "The Mark and the Void" concludes, the reader will wish it hadn't.

Jim Carmin is a National Book Critics Circle member who lives in Portland, Ore.