Another fabulous account of Commissario Brunetti’s exploits in Venice. Leon’s stories have recurring themes: a leisurely pace to a single investigation; very little death, in this case a single ambiguous apparent accident; no violence; little technology other than the formidable computer skills of Signorina Elletra. The unrelenting heat and humidity of a Venetian summer is described graphically. But at the core, Brunetti is an observer of human behaviour. And thus, he is acutely aware of moral dilemmas, as expressed eloquently at the end of the book: “Brunetti was both accuser and accused. He had to decide which crime to punish, which to ignore, and choose the greater criminal”.
Amy notes: There are always good meals in her books, and Brunetti reads thoughtfully, which often provides perspective on the mystery
In my comments of The Temptation of Forgiveness (May 2018), it was noted this was the 27th Inspector Brunetti book. Death at La Fenice is the first, written in 1992. This origin story is notable for its initial definition of Brunetti as a crime investigator: he works alone without computers or fancy forensics, he listens and thinks. His warm loving family life is featured here as in all the Leon books; there is a simply glorious account of a Monopoly game with his wife and children. Thanks Amy, for this delightful read.
This is the 27th Leon novel set in Venice with Commissario Brunetti solving crimes, and each one is a joy to read. The key is context. Venice is a delightful setting, and the crimes, although serious, are not desperate (no blood spatter analysis, for example). The pace of the investigation is relatively relaxed (Brunetti only seems toward on one case at a time), and Brunetti has a normal happy home life (unlike so many conflicted and tortured detectives like Harry Hole and Wallender). Finally, the women in this story, specifically Ms. Elletra and colleague Griffoni, are becoming increasingly important to the story and plot. Importantly, this story centres on moral ambiguities when characters do something wrong (illegal) but for the right reason. As an example of fine writing, this is a description of a Brunetti encounter with his hapless superior (page 253): “Brunetti applied psychic botox to his smile and nodded while turning his attention to Saint Antonio, patron saint of lost things and lost causes”.