Rounding the Mark, by Andrea Camilleri

014303748x
Penguin Books, 2006
originally published as Il giro di boa, 2003
translated by Stephen Sartarelli
264 pp.

Continuing the Salvo Montalbano series in order, Rounding the Mark is number seven, leaving me six more to go. Five if you don't count the newest one, The Potter's Field, which won't get here until September.

It's not a good night for Montalbano. He is unable to sleep, and even more telling, unable to eat.  He's decided to turn in his resignation, feeling betrayed by the news about a raid on the Diaz School in Genoa during the G8 meetings there, in which evidence had been found to be planted, the stabbing of a policeman by an "antiglobalist" had been discovered to have been self inflicted, and that ultimately there was no legitimate reason that the raid needed to have taken place.  As he often does when he's restless, he decides to  take a naked swim in the ocean in the early morning hours.  As he turns on his back and does a stroke, he bumps into something that turns out to be a foot. He apologizes to the unseen person, only to discover that it is really a corpse.

Some days later, he goes to deliver a pair of glasses to a cop friend at the scene of the landing of illegal immigrants, when a little boy runs off the boat and away from everyone.  Montalbano goes after him, captures him and delivers him to his mother. But he can't help but notice that the boy looks petrified and is highly agitated.  After some time, the boy's body is later discovered -- someone has hit him with a car and killed him.  Wondering if perhaps his own actions were linked to the boy's death, he begins investigating and will not let up until he finds out the truth.

Despite Montalbano's disgust at his government, the corrupt policemen and his ongoing battle with what he feels might be old age creeping up on him, there are some really funny episodes that made me laugh out loud. First, Salvo's naked "rescue" of the corpse is caught on television.  Then there's an ongoing gag about a cop named Torretta, who seems to have opened an "emporium" in the station, always ready with anything that anyone could possibly need. Catarella's mangling of Italian leads Montalbano to a vital clue through someone Catarella insists is named Pontius Pilate.  But there is nothing funny at all about the way Camilleri depicts an ongoing and growing problem in Italy, one that is shared by many countries around the world.

Here we find Montalbano at his most intense so far, and although the overall mystery wasn't as satisfying as it might have been,  it was still quite good; it is yet another excellent entry in the series. Camilleri's regular characters are so well developed and well portrayed that I feel like I know these people well by this point,  yet I'm always surprised by the twists and turns in Montalbano's life.  Even though at times these books become formulaic and often rely on odd coincidences, and although these traits are not ones I particularly care for in any mystery or crime fiction novel, Camilleri's writing keeps me reading.  It's easy to overlook the flaws because I'm having such a great time reading.

crime fiction from Italy

The Smell of the Night, by Andrea Camilleri

9780143036203
Penguin Books,  2005
originally published as L'odore della notte, 2001
translated by Stephen Sartarelli
229 pp.

"Did you say the smell of the night?"

"Yes. The night changes smells, depending on the hour."

Montalbano's back and once again in his sixth case of the series. This time he gets involved with the case of a missing financial "genius" who had gained the trust of several investors and then promptly disappeared, taking their money with him. Did he go off to "live it up with beautiful half-naked women" in Polynesia, or did Emanuele Gargano take some money off of a very angry and vengeful Mafioso?  Nobody knows, although Montalbano's superiors are inclined to believe the latter (as they generally do, even when unfounded), while Montalbano runs his own investigation.  But Montalbano is in trouble with the Commissioner over his actions during a previous case, not having to do with the job, but dealing with a boy named Francois first introduced in The Snack Thief.  He's also once again in trouble with Livia, Mimi's got a case of pre-wedding jitters, and someone's gone and cut down the old olive tree where he goes to think.  Worst of all, he feels the "ignoble head" of old age coming on.

The Smell of the Night offers its readers a solid mystery, a great investigation and one of the most impressive endings of this series so far.  As far as the whodunit is concerned, I had absolutely no clue up until the final denouement, which is always a great thing. But as usual, it is the author's finely-honed sense of place that steals the show, along with his devotion to continuing character development, and his introduction of some new and rather quirky people that help Montalbano throughout the case.  And let's not forget the food.

As I continue through this series, it's getting a bit difficult to find new things to say about these books, because although some may be a bit better than others, I'm finding that I am loving them all.  All the things that make one book good are continued throughout the rest.  Perhaps some of the crimes and their solutions aren't as good in one or two of these books as they are in others, but I've come to realize that I'm really reading them at this point just to see what's going to happen next with Montalbano and his colleagues at the Vigata police station.  When all is said and done, and I move on to another author's works,  I'm probably not going to remember specific crimes in Camilleri's novels, but I'll definitely remember the setting,  the food and especially the crazy group of characters surrounding Montalbano.

As with every previous book, I definitely recommend this one, and since I tend to be a series-reading purist, I'd say start with the first book, The Shape of Water and make your way forward so you don't miss anything.

crime fiction from Italy

River of Shadows, by Valerio Varesi

9781906694289
MacLehose Press/Quercus
2010
originally published as Il fiume delle nebbie, 2003
translated by Joseph Farrell
259 pp.


Italian author Valerio Varesi adds his mark to the English-speaking (and reading) crime-fiction world with his series featuring Commissario Soneri of which River of Shadows is the first to be published in English.  According to their website, MacLehose will be publishing two more of Varesi's novels in the near future: The Dark Valley in 2012 and Gold, Frankincense and Dust in 2013.  River of Shadows definitely does not fall on the lighter side of crime fiction; it starts with a dark and gloomy atmosphere and never lets up.  Balanced against the series I'm currently reading by Andrea Camilleri, this book carries a pronounced shift in tone in terms of the main character, the crimes & their solutions, and even in terms of the landscape. Set both in Parma and along the banks of the Po River, the novel will take the reader on a journey not only along the misty river, but through the course of Italian history as well.

The novel opens with a first chapter that will set the atmosphere for the rest of the novel. The Po is flooding after four days of steady rain. At a boatman's club near a river jetty, a group of boatmen sit playing cards about eleven p.m., watching the action through the window, listening to their radio reports and exchanging information about the flood's progress along the banks.  They hear a noise and realize that a barge belonging to old Tonna, who is "more at home in wet weather than Noah,"  has just docked with his cargo of wheat. A cabin light is on in the barge, and in a little while, it seems that Tonna is preparing to take off again. While they try to figure out what's happening with the barge, the boatmen hear that evacuations have started along the edges of the river and the flood situation is becoming more intense. The light in the barge goes out and comes on again, and the barge sets off, minus navigation lights, leaving rope on the quay and the gangplank thrown sideways. As the boatmen ponder the meaning of this series of events, they radio a warning about the barge, and are all carefully following reports of Tonna's barge sightings on the river  The water is steadily rising, the club members are gradually taking equipment out of the club. At three a.m. they learn that the barge has run aground, and to their surprise, that no one was aboard. So what happened to Tonna?

In Parma, in the meantime, Comissario Soneri of the squadra mobile (The Flying Squad) is called to investigate the death of an elderly man who went through a glass window at a hospital. Some of the police think it's suicide, but a couple of clues left behind  lead Soneri to believe it's murder. The dead man was a bit of an oddball who would wander through different departments and talk to the patients.  While thinking about the dead man on the way back to his office, Soneri receives a call from his girlfriend Angela, who asks him if he's read the newspaper story about a barge that was adrift on the Po before going aground with no one on board. When she tells Soneri the barge operator's name of Anteo Tonna, he does a double take: the name of the man who went through the hospital window was Decimo Tonna.  In an intuitive moment, he understands that this is no coincidence -- and that the two crimes are definitely linked. But how?  He will spend the rest of the novel getting to the root of this puzzle, as he tries to figure out who the Tonnas were and who might have wanted them dead.

Soneri is an interesting figure. He has an ability to sense what's important, largely through interpreting the impressions he gets from other people. He's willing to sit quietly, waiting out those he's questioning, knowing that often it takes time for people to say what's on their minds. Although he leaves the background fact gathering to his colleagues, his strength is in how he takes the information and applies it to his own often-intuitive conjectures.  He is also clever at interpreting the landscape, not an easy task along the fogbound river.  Soneri is not a huge fan of technology, often forgetting that his cell phone needs an occasional battery charge, unable to even change his ring tone from its current setting.  As far as computers go, he leaves that to his co-workers and works from his gut.  He detests the politics involved in his work,although as his girlfriend notes, work is the only thing that really gets his attention. It also tends to cause a rise in his blood pressure. He has no problem sitting out in the cold, traveling the same ground over and over again -- anything that will help him find the truth.  The Commissario loves good food and very good wine, never turning down a delectable dish, especially those that remind him of his childhood, and although he forgets about his girlfriend sometimes, he makes up for it by humoring Angela's desire for sex in places where they might possibly be discovered.  Although Varesi does not really delve into the lives of his colleagues too much, they are obviously people on whom Soneri can depend. 

It is really the Po river and the people who live on its edges -- the boatmen, the fishermen, the families who have been there for generations -- that bring out the sense of place in this novel.  Varesi's descriptions of the water, the mist that envelops everything, the branches poking out over the top of the river are intense. Even the rain in the opening chapter takes on a life of its own.  His depiction of a terrible time in Italian history brings out the point that some memories will live on well past the moment of their beginnings, and that there are events both unforgettable and unforgivable which have stayed locked in time even though the world has moved on. This series is one to look forward to, not simply for the crime elements but because of the author's ability in setting up an atmosphere that lasts throughout the entire book.

 I liked River of Shadows and would definitely recommend it to readers of Italian crime fiction. You're not going to get another Salvo Montalbano here -- Soneri is a whole different ball game, much more serious, not someone you feel like you could hug when all is said and done.  On a crime-intensity level, it's also a step or two up the ladder, with little comic relief and much greater focus on what's at the root of the crime. I just can't get over how very descriptive Varesi's writing is, and although I read crime fiction mainly for the intensity level and the puzzle factor,  I also greatly appreciate a well-written story. 

This novel is on this year's shortlist for the CWA International Dagger Award. 

crime fiction from Italy

Excursion to Tindari, by Andrea Camilleri

014303460x
Penguin Books, 2005
originally published as La gita a Tindari, 2000
translated by Stephen Sartarelli
295 pp

I've arrived at book five in the Montalbano series, and I just can't seem to get enough of these novels. Truth be told, they're highly addicting.

 Excursion to Tindari is a puzzler that will intrigue both fans of Camilleri and mystery readers in general.  A phone call lands Montalbano in the middle of the case of the dead man at Via Cavour 44.  Just one bullet in the middle of the forehead killed young Emanuele 'Nenè' Sanfilippo, and since the captain of the Flying Squad and his second in command were laid up (one with dysentery after a visit to Beirut and the other in the hospital in New York after a mugging), Montalbano is told that the case is his.  While he's just getting started on that case, a man shows up at the Vigàta station to ask for help with his missing parents, Mr. and Mrs. Griffo,  and permission to break down the door of their apartment.  Montalbano puts Gallo on the case until he finds out that the missing parents lived in the same apartment building as the dead Sanfilippo, then decides to handle it himself. After a spot on the television news regarding their disappearance brings forth several witnesses, the police discover that the Griffos were last seen on a bus tour to the Sanctuary of the Madonna of Tindari.   After that, they might has well have dropped off the face of the Earth.  Salvo just knows intuitively that the two cases must be connected -- but how?  As he's delving into both investigations, he receives a call that he can't refuse: Don Balduccio Sinagra, the head of one of the two major crime families, wants him to stop by for a visit. And, on the personal front, Mimi Augello has just informed Montalbano that he's met a woman and is planning on marrying her, and Montalbano realizes he may be losing a good officer and a good friend. Mimi also informs him that the Commissioner, Bonetti-Alderighi, is happy about Mimi's plans, saying that it was "high time that the band of Mafiosi at Vigàta Police...started to break up."  And of course, let's not forget Livia, who is still depressed over events from book four, Voice of the Violin. But his keen detective work, some subterfuge, and the amazing, mouth-watering Italian dishes he loves help to see him through once more.

One of the funniest scenes in this series thus far is in this book -- in which Montalbano is at 'Nenè' Sanfilippo's apartment late one night reviewing some of the dead man's videocassettes.  Camilleri's  great sense of humor and timing are delightfully captured in English by Sartarelli the translator. The author also manages to drive home the point that although the Mafia's presence is everywhere, the game is changing and there's a new challenge to the police and indeed to the old ways  -- the younger generation of Mafioso have become ruthless, unwilling to sit down and come to some agreement, preferring to solve their issues with knee-jerk violence. The core mysteries are enticing and well plotted, with very plausible and ingenious solutions.  Camilleri also continues his well-defined sense of place that runs through the prior installments of this series, augmented by the richness of personalities and food found in the area.

Now with books 6-12 stacked here ready to go and book 13 preordered from Amazon, it's obvious to me that I've become hooked on this series.  This is not surprising, because they are intelligent and very well-written novels, and with each book the characters become more real. I suggest that anyone considering this series start at the beginning -- your reading experience will be greatly enhanced as you follow Montalbano and his  team at the Vigàta station in the order the books were written. 

crime fiction from Italy

The Voice of the Violin, by Andrea Camilleri

9780142004456
Penguin Books, 2004
originally published as La voce del violino, 1997
249 pp

On to the fourth book in the Salvo Montalbano series with Voice of the Violin.  Although this one is not quite as humorous as its predecessors, it continues Camilleri's most excellent writing and delves more into the characters previously introduced.  This installment is much more focused on plot, although it does bring out Montalbano's more sensitive and compassionate side as he focuses on a most difficult personal issue carried over from events that began in The Snack Thief.

The story begins when Gallo, the Vigata station's official driver, picks up the Inspector to drive him to a funeral. Unfortunately, Gallo suffers from "Indianapolis Complex," and while driving too fast, plows into a parked car. On the return trip, Montalbano notices the car is still parked.  Unable to sleep and bothered by the fact that the car hadn't moved and that the note he had left was still there, Montalbano later returns to the scene of the accident, goes to the owner's home, and let himself into the house. It is there that he discovers the body of a woman who had been suffocated to death.  When the crime is reported "anonymously," the police are sent to investigate. Unfortunately for Montalbano, the forensics team discovers that he's left fingerprints everywhere, and on top of this, political maneuvers lead to the Inspector being taken off the case, which is handed over to the flying squad, who promptly shoot their number one suspect.  But do they have the right guy?

Complicating Montalbano's life are unfinished issues with Livia, a woman named Anna Tropeano (a friend of the deceased), and all of the politics involved with Montalbano's new boss. However, none of these issues put a stop to his gourmet appetite and his ongoing friendship with Clementina Vasile Cozzo, to whom Montalbano has "remained as attached...as a son."  But what does all of this have to do with a violin? Unknowingly, Clementina will help Salvo get to the truth of the mystery of the dead woman on a Friday morning, when (as is her weekly custom) she gets dressed up and listens to her upstairs neighbor Cataldo Barbera, a reclusive but internally-known violinist, play for her.

The core mystery is excellent -- as is the path to its solution.  How Montalbano deals with the problems brought on by having a new boss who hates him is one of the better parts of this book, but is a situation  in which he has to enlist several of the series' continuing characters.  With each book, returning to this group of friends and colleagues is like returning to people you've known for a long time. That's just one reason I love this series, but it's a big one. And as noted earlier, this particular story is not as funny as the previous ones, but that's okay -- I love reading crime fiction for the crimes and their solutions, and Camilleri did not disappoint in this novel.

Definitely recommended to all readers of crime fiction, whether you like your crime deep and satisfyingly bad or a bit on the lighter side.

crime fiction from Italy

The Whisperer, by Donato Carrisi

9780349123448
Abacus/Little, Brown Book Group, 2011
originally published as Il Suggeritore, 2009
474 pp.
translated by Shaun Whiteside
(note: not available in the US until 2012)


Donato Carrisi is a new author for me, and I probably would never have heard of this book had it not been for Karen at Euro Crime, one of my very favorite blogs on the Internet. Last year, just prior to the announcement of the CWA International Dagger award (for which she was a judge!), Karen made a post about books that might possibly be eligible for the 2011 CWA International Dagger. I put that post on my iphone main screen, and eager to jump on that bandwagon, I started ordering the books as they were published.  That's how The Whisperer made its way into my crime fiction collection.    I don't see that the author has any other books published in English, but I read somewhere that The Whisperer is "Italy's Number One Bestselling Thriller Sensation."

The Whisperer starts out with an fascinating, although rather grotesque, mystery to be solved.  In an unnamed location that could be pretty much anywhere, renowned criminologist Dr. Goran Gavila has been summoned to examine a crime scene, which turns out to be "a circle of little graves."  What was found was horrifying: six severed arms, all belonging to different little girls, the oldest victim only thirteen. The arms were taken from the girls after they had disappeared, starting about twenty-five days earlier.    Despite the best efforts of the police and the public, no culprit has been taken into custody, nor are there any traces of the missing children. The problem is that only five girls had been reported missing, not six, meaning there's another missing girl out there somewhere in grave danger.  Gavila heads up a special team to investigate, bringing in an outsider named Mila Vasquez, a younger police officer who specializes in recovering missing children. The team has to call the killer something, and settles on "Albert," the name of a serial killler from an older case who cut off women's right feet. As the investigation progresses, the killer begins to leave some rather bizarre clues designed to lead the team to the bodies, one by one. There are a number of red herrings throughout the story, a bit of romance, tension among the investigative team members, alternating points of view within the narrative, and even a bit o' the supernatural -- in short something for every reader -- all tied together in this novel's 400+ pages.

But when all is said and done,  The Whisperer, although touted as a "literary thriller," fits neither description. It starts out well, the crime is compelling and the shifting perspectives keep things interesting, as do the dynamics among the investigating team. But all too soon things just get a bit unrealistic, especially with the insertion of the supernatural element into the plot.  It's almost as if the author thought that he had to throw in a combination of elements that might make a book  reach every possible audience, and it just did not play well for me.  He has all of these incredibly bright people investigating the crime, and yet he actually demeans his own characters by adding in the scenes that are simply unbelievable.  Somewhere along the line, the original chilling tone set by the discovery of the little girls' arms got lost, which is too bad, because if the author had continued down that road, slowly building on the suspense through the novel, it could have been really good.

This novel got an overall 3.81 star rating on Goodreads, and several reviewers loved it, one person relating it to the novels of Stieg Larsson. Hmmm. Well, perhaps I missed something, but let's just say, this isn't one of the best crime fiction novels I've ever read. It's definitely not a book that everyone's going to like -- especially (I would think) serious crime fiction junkies. It's much more mainstream than I had hoped, actually, something more along the lines of a summer beach read where you don't have to think too much.  That's not exactly what I look for in my crime reading -- I prefer more of a challenge than is offered by The Whisperer.

(read in May)

crime fiction from Italy

The Snack Thief, by Andrea Camilleri

9780142004739
Penguin Books, 2005
Originally published as Il ladro di merendine, 1996
translated by Stephen Sartarelli
298 pp.

As I work my way through this series, Andrea Camilleri is quickly becoming one of my favorite crime fiction authors, and Salvo Montalbano one of my favorite characters.  How can you not like him? He's  grumpy, cantankerous, and crabby and yet he has a compassionate side.  He lives for the best, most delectable food, and although flawed in many ways, he has an incredible handle on human nature. The Snack Thief is number three in this series, and I wasted absolutely no time after Terra-Cotta Dog to start this book. And after finishing this book, I opened up the next one, The Voice of the Violin. I have a feeling that when that one's over, it's going to be on to number five and on down the line until I've finished every book that's been published in this series.  That's how good these books really are and how much I like them.

The day starts out badly for Montalbano as the story begins, when he is awakened early in the morning by a call from Catarella at the Vigata station. A Tunisian man was killed when the trawler on which he was working was attacked by a Tunisian patrol boat. The trawler was in international waters, and since someone was killed, the government is forced to intervene.  And because the boat came into Vigata, the nearest port, the police there are supposed to provide a detailed report because of the possible international repercussions. Montalbano would prefer not to get involved, and is happy when Mimi Augello takes it on.  The Inspector has a more intriguing case to work on -- that of a businessman named Lapecora, who was found stabbed and dead in the elevator of his apartment building.  As he's investigating this crime, another report is called in about someone stealing pre-lunch snacks from school children.  As he focuses on Lapecora's death, more mysteries begin to reveal themselves, whetting Montalbano's appetite just as much as the promise of alalonga all'agrodolce prepared by his friend Calogero at a local restaurant. And while all of this is going on, Livia decides to come for a visit.

The Snack Thief is a wonderful read.  There are multiple layers of mystery at work in this novel, and as each one is revealed, the story becomes a bit more intriguing.  The characters once again take center stage -- not only are the usual players here, but there are new ones who play off of Montalbano, bringing out different sides of his character. There are many humorous moments,  in the police station, or when Montalbano's hunger makes him a bit grumpy, and especially in the way he deals with his growing (but unfounded) jealousy of Livia and Mimi Augello.  Stephen Sartarelli's translation is so well done that the book just flows -- there is not a line out of place, nor is there any point at which the narrative comes off even a bit awkwardly.  It's absolutely incredible how well the translation captures all the characters' eccentricities, especially those belonging to Montalbano.

I can definitely recommend this one with absolutely no reservations. It will definitely appeal to all readers of crime fiction, from those who read cozy novels on through noir fans.  I admire Camilleri's writing talent, and can't wait to get through the entire series.

crime fiction from Italy