John Crowley's The Translator

Three months ago I started reading John Crowley's The Translator. I thought I had said of it that it's not a "foundation of a new religion" book like Engine Summer and Little, Big, but I didn't and would anyway have been wrong. The religion even has a name available (even if its current proponents aren't worshippers): nationalism. Without giving anything away, I'll note that the book rhymes with one of Graham Greene's greatest novels, and that the title turns out to be a beautiful three-level pun. Be sure to read it if you care about poetry, grief, and hope.