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Death in a
strange country 2
This
was only the second of Donna Leon's Venetian murder mysteries,
featuring Commissario Guido Brunetti, but it shows all the
elements and excellence of the later episodes, pleasing on so
many levels. There's the plot, involving a dead American found
floating face-down in a canal, loathable industrialists, and
official obstruction and corruption making the Commissario's job
much harder. We get nearer to a fuller understanding of the
hidden power of money and then the Mafia things get genuinely
scary. And then there's Ms Leon's fab way with family life, and
Guido's believable relationship with his fully-rounded wife and
kids. Policemen just don't come more straightforwardly likeable
and admirable than Guido Brunetti.
The
death of faith 6
The
iniquities of the Catholic church are explored and exposed, as a
visit from a nun who cared for his sick mother puts Commissario
Brunetti on the trail of many an unworthy cleric and pious
hypocrite. Real people populate Donna Leon's novels and Brunetti
and his familiar family and colleagues are here forced to face up
to Italy's mother church and its many failings: priestly
proclivities, greed, and Opus Dei amongst others. She just gets
better with each one - the bizarre image of the very small man
living in a flat full of very large furniture and his collection
of very small (snuff) boxes cannot fail but lodge in your
mind.
A
noble radiance 7
The
discovery of bones in a field at the foot of the Dolomites starts
the Commissario poking his procedural stick into the wasps nest
that is the Venetian aristocracy. And, as he opens up an
old kidnapping case - that most anti-family of crimes - our
hero delves again into matters familial whilst plagued by his
aristocratic father-in-law's accusations regarding the state of
his own marriage. The incompetent superior and his oily
familiar are familiar figures, as is the smart and connected
secretary Signorina Elettra. Venice, too, is strongly in place,
if never quite fragrantly evoked. Then, towards the end, all
sorts of odd stuff emerges and the meaning of the title is
clarified. You can rely on Donna.
Fatal
remedies 8
Brunetti's
wife Paola is getting increasingly angry at the reports of sex
tours taking men off to places like Thailand to have sex with
children. She decides that action is called for, and that an
implicated local travel agent needs his window breaking. After
the second such attack Brunetti can't prevent her arrest. As the
couple argue over right and wrong, and where the law stands with
regard to these concepts, Brunetti's current case takes a tragic
turn. This is what we want: sexual politics, discussion of what
makes a marriage strong, typical Italian corruption, the
typically bad postal service, and all played out against our
favourite backdrop, evoked in a low-key, but strongly. Paola is
undoubtedly a strong woman: she has her own career and does what
she thinks needs to be done, yet strangely she still finds time
to cook and wait on Brunetti hand and foot, while he lies around
and reads. Now why can't I find a woman like that?
Friends
in high places 9
Drugs
and building regulations figure largely in this one. Brunetti's
apartment is found to not officially exist and then the
bureaucrat who'd told him of this dies suspiciously, as do some
drug addicts. The whole mess is stewed up by the presence of some
loathsome loan-sharks, and the descendents of doges, and we're
set for more insights into the unchallengeable corruption
of the Italian state, set against the backdrop of the city we
love, featuring characters we care about.
A
sea of troubles
10
A
fishing boat explodes and sinks out on Pallestrina and two clam
fisherman are found dead in the sunken hulk. So begins a case for
Brunetti which combines the familiar themes of corruption,
bureaucratic blind-eyes, and obstructive witness with
new concerns like the confusing strength of his concern for the
welfare of Signorina Elettra, the Questore's secretary, who
insists on going undercover to help. Although she uses the same
characters in each of her novels Ms Leon never exactly covers the
same ground, with the allegiances and prejudices of a small
fishing community providing the flavour here, and Brunetti is as
prone to confusion at his emotions as the rest of us. And
all rounded off with a tragic and truly gripping
climax.
There's
a video interview with Donna Leon about Pallestrina and this book
and about how crime-free Venice actually is here
Wilful
behaviour
11
The
murder of one of Paola's students sends Brunetti chasing leads
all the way back to World War II, as long-forgotten, or long
denied, episodes in Italy's fascist past are dug up, often by
people who haven't forgotten, but who still deny. Fascinating
insights into country-wide amnesia, and the lack of any reliable
histories of the last World War in Italian, mix it up with a
fashionable foray into art-crime in another reliable gripper. And
all the stuff I usually say about the truthful and touching
family and human stuff is here as usual, if not more
so.
Uniform
justice
12
The
uniform being military and the justice being about as elusive as
usual. A cadet is found hanged in the showers at an elite
military academy and suicide is the easy answer. You will not be
surprised to learn that Brunetti is sceptical, and rightly so.
The boy turns out to be the son of a Venetian politician known
for his honesty - that rarest of qualities in politics generally,
let alone Italian politics - who had retired suddenly many years
previously. This retirement had coincided with his wife's getting
injured in a hunting accident, and resulted in an investigation
into military procurement shenanigans being dropped. You can see
generally where this is going, but it is the emotions and issues
stirred up in Brunetti and the other cast members that provide
the meat in the tale. Signorina Elettra is again essential, and
seems about to reveal some back-story, but remains as enigmatic
as ever. The usual blend of cynicism and humanity make Brunetti
as lovable as ever, and we continue to care and want to know
what'll happen to him next.
Doctored
evidence 13
As
twisty as ever the story, beginning with the death of a grumpy
old woman and taking in the oppression of immigrant workers,
blackmail and a comprehensive selection of the old seven
deadlies, is at once familiar and surprising and full of very
real people. I found a couple of the plot devices a little
laboured but this is as convincing and involving as ever. And
Signorina Elettra just keeps getting more and more of an
enigma.
Blood
from a stone
14
As
the Christmas lights sparkle in bitterly cold mid-December Venice
an African seller of fake designer bags is murdered. And so
Brunetti begins an investigation that'll reveal racism, uncover
conspiracy and show us more of the Italian state's labyrinthine
levels of corruption. But Ms L. keeps the blend as fresh as ever
with Brunetti's family life reflecting the issues and that easy
style breezing you through the very present-day concerns
with wit and perception. Another good one.
An
early title for this one was Vu
cumprà,
the faintly derogatory name for the African bag sellers, but a
bit out of keeping with the usual cliché-based titling
of this series, I suppose.
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Through
a glass darkly
15
This
one begins during a peaceful Spring stretch for Brunetti as, for
the first hundred pages, he gets to investigate a crime that's
not been committed, only threatened, but which has worried the
daughter of the owner of a Murano glass works. Her father has
been heard to say he'd like to kill his son-in-law, her husband,
whose eco-concerns are somewhat contrary to the old man's
business ethic. So there's much discussion of the harm being done
to Venice's waters and workers, and some nice glassy stuff.
Eventually someone's found dead by a furnace
Suffer
the little children
16
And
this new one's even more murder-free, as our favourite
Commissario looks into a carabinieri raid on a paediatrician
which results in concussion and a baby taken into care. He
uncovers baby-trafficking, misuse of computerised records and
some men with some very nasty views. But even with such
un-gruesome material we're still drawn in and gripped by the
effortlessly human beings Donna Leon puts our way, including old
favourites like Signorina Ellettra, who gets to play an even more
crucial, and active, role this time. This all feeds into the
series' recurring theme of the family; with Venice, food,
morality and corruption all pondered too. And fig flavour ice
cream.
The girl of
his dreams 17
This
one starts out all low-key and domestic again, with no real crime
committed for the first third of the book. But we do eventually
get the real thing this time, with the shock of authentic death
by drowning. The non-crime bit concerns itself with organised
religion, with the topics of East European immigration and
gypsies all stirred up by political correctness and corruption as
the book progresses, making for a good topical and typical brew.
As ever it's Brunetti's way with people, his way with conflict
and politeness, his humanity and perception which provides the
meat and keeps us turning those pages. All our favourite
characters are here, and there's that comforting feeling of
catching up with the lives and gossip of acquaintances. New
developments include a map showing the places where the action
takes place, and Brunetti admiring, and visiting, a fair few
churches. As my tribute to the use of clichés for the
recent titles I have to say: she makes it all look so
easy.
About
face 18
The
Brunettis go to a dinner party at Paola's parent's palazzo. Rich
people are there, discussing rich-people stuff, but a rich man's
wife with an unearthly look, thanks to plastic surgery, surprises
and arouses Brunetti with talk of Cicero. Next day at the office
Brunetti is introduced to an initially cagey Carabinieri who
needs his help, but only reveals why only after three chapters of
emotional and verbal sparring. And so we're off. There's soon a
corpse, the Camorra, useful computer hacking and trips to a
casino and chemical dumps in Marghera. This one's basically about
the illegal shipping of waste, but the personal and political
webs that are woven around the plot and the people is what we
turn these pages for and we are, as ever, not disappointed. I
have to say, though, that I was more than a bit unconvinced
by a crucial aspect of the (plot-crucial) behaviour of the main
character in the non-waste-related strand of the plot, revealed
towards the end. Another one set in the snow too, as was
Edward Sklepowich's Veils
of Venice a
couple of weeks back.
A Question of Belief
19
There's a hot summer setting this time, as Brunetti wades
through the sticky days up to his holiday poking around a couple of
unrelated and barely proven crimes. It's real life stuff of
course, with the usual concentration on personalities over
procedures. An old woman seems to be being taken in by a dubious
faith healer - not so utterly different from being duped by
the more solidly entrenched state religion, as Brunetti observes.
And there's something wrong with a number of court case
deferments that could well be profiting the defendants. No crime
is committed or detected until almost halfway in, when a body is
found as Brunetti's holiday has barely begun. The story is
littered with sadly wasted lives, dealt with with Ms Leon's
trademark combination of human warmth and practical cynicism.
And as ever you're left with the feeling of having delved into real lives.
Toni
Sepeda Brunetti's
Venice
This
is a handy-looking little book, nicely presented and with good
maps. It takes the form of twelve walks through Brunetti's life
as presented by the novels, with much use made of lengthy quotes,
which points up Donna Leon's obvious sanction of the project.
Toni Sepeda, who gives Brunetti tours, obviously knows her stuff
and needs us to know it. After a while the waffley and
self-important tone began to grate on me, I must admit. I'd
suggest the book's use to help find locations rather than as a
cover-to-cover read or as a guide to take on your travels. The
novels are anyway rare in their avoidance of location invention
and other such liberty-taking.
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here.
Miss Garnett reacts strongly to the spirituality of the Catholic
religion and becomes fascinated by the story of Tobias and the
Angel and moved by the art the story has inspired. As Venice
works its magic on a sensibility more used to Ealing, she
also gets caught up in the lives of various Venetians and
visitors, and her life begins to take on aspects of the Tobias
story. This is a novel with that strange indefinable extra
special something. 
