At times, it’s almost embarrassing how late I come to some parties.
Like the Donna Leon party.
How on earth did I miss Ms Leon’s utterly wonderful detective novels, set in Venice? Where was I all the years that everyone else was reading and raving about Donna Leon’s wonderful writing, brilliant scene-setting and palpable love for Venice?
Luckily I have a ferociously well-read sister, who mentioned these books to me when we were all in Venice last year for her daughter’s wedding, and now I am binge-reading them.
Which is kind of wonderful as well, rather than reading and then having to wait a year…
We walk the streets with him, we travel along the canals by boat with him, we suffer through the stiflingly hot summer with him, somewhat relieved by chilled white wine and fresh figs.
Ms Leon loves Venice, and knows it in intimate detail, and her writing brings this stunning city to life. The food, the markets, the regular, non touristy neighbourhoods, the under-belly – for, sadly, every beautiful place has its less desirable side.
In this book, the under-belly involves murder and money, a fairly classic combination.
Ms Leon tells a gripping detective tale, woven through with the sights and smells and sounds of the city of Venice that is inhabited and frequented by Venetians, and not by the tourist throngs.
We can almost taste the food that Brunetti’s lovely, intelligent and long-suffering wife Paola prepares while quizzing him on the latest developments in the murder case he is investigating:
“She took some basil leaves, ran them under cold water for a moment, and chopped them into tiny pieces. She sprinkled them on top of the tomato and mozzarella, added salt, and then poured olive oil generously over the top of everything.”
All this whilst discussing murder.
One of the many reasons that Commissario Brunetti is such a likeable man, is his compassionate nature. Crime and exposure to violent death have not hardened him.
Here he goes to interview a suspect, and encounters the man’s bigoted “portiere” who is vulgarly voluble about his dislike of gays.
“Brunetti sighed tiredly. Why couldn’t people learn to be more discriminating in whom they chose to hate, a bit more selective? Perhaps even a bit more intelligent? Why not hate the Christian Democrats? Or the Socialists? Or why not hate people who hated homosexuals?”
Amidst the murder, and attempted murder, amidst the oppressive summer heat and the depressing industrial areas of Venice that the Commissario must tramp in search of clues, there are however, moments of humour. Brunetti calls a journalist and asks him about the self-styled title he has given himself on his answering machine. The journalist agrees he should perhaps update his answering machine:
“It takes me forever to change the message. So many buttons to push. The first time I did it, I recorded myself swearing at the machine. No one left a message for a week, until I thought the thing wasn’t working and called myself from a phone booth. Shocking, the language the machine used. I dashed home and changed the message immediately. But it’s still very confusing.”
And it’s moments like that, by the way, that ever so slightly, but only ever so slightly, date the books. But they do not impact the pleasure or the storyline whatsoever, those non existent mobile phones…not one little bit.
Another light-hearted moment (and one which struck a chord) is on the subject of the ugliest Baby Jesus search Brunetti and his wife have going:
“Then, a little to the left of the fireplace, a Madonna, clearly Florentine and probably fifteenth-century, looking adoringly down at yet another ugly baby. One of the secrets Paola and Brunetti never revealed to anyone was their decades-long search for the ugliest Christ Child in western art. At the moment, the title was held by a particularly bilious infant in Room 13 of the Pinacoteca di Siena. Though the baby in front of Brunetti was no beauty, Siena’s title was not at risk.”
It is this combination of a gripping plot happy, set against the backdrop of a normal family life, food, and the sheer breath-taking beauty of Venice that never ceases to astound Brunetti and through him we, the reader, that makes “The Anonymous Venetian” such a great read.
Hugely enjoyable, and I can already tell that this series is going to be completely addictive.
If you would like to buy “The Anonymous Venetian”, it couldn’t be easier.
Here you go.