My Weekly Book

Blood Rain - Michael Dibdin

I read this seventh novel in the Aurelio Zen series of generally flawlessly-executed Italian romans policiers carrying a huge weight of expectation. The sixth and parts of the fifth volumes in the series had already proved to be sadly disappointing, as regular readers may recall. With three more left to go I really felt this instalment of the adventures of Michael Dibdin’s modern-day Roman detective was going to be make or break for the entire series. And, to my relief, I find I have finished Blood Rain with my enthusiasm for the whole lot of it refreshed, and with a distinct feeling that it may just have pulled itself out of the abyss it plumbed during the last pages of Cosi fan Tutti and in which it continued to wallow ineffectually for the whole of A Long Finish. Its pacy, nicely-focused and linear storyline kept me reading in preference to several other very good stories that were vying for my attention.

[Buy from Amazon] [Search on eBay]

The narrative, instead of wandering down a series of wrong turns and florid Gothic blind alleys is taut, pared-down and truly dangerous. Very little happens which is unnecessary. It’s got just enough of the melodrama, bathos and dense, sensuous imagery from the past novels to remind you what a superlative writer Michael Dibdin is. And this book gives you the feeling that he’s got everything working for him, all the components that usually make these books so effective, plugged in and functioning as they should. He’s raised his game back to the level I have come to expect and look forward to – rather than the disorganised, ho-hum, run-of-the-mill quality which made A Long Finish such a chore. It’s a story in which grave sacrifices are made in the continuing quest to strip Zen of all his remaining connections with the rest of humanity. You sometimes get the distinct feeling that Dibdin really doesn’t like his hero one little bit, and that would certainly apply to great chunks of this novel. As Zen’s personal life finally falls to bits around him, as it has been threatening to do for three novels or more, we also witness the disintegration of his career. A promised favour to help shield him from the worst of a Sicilian posting he has been dreading for his entire professional life fails to materialise. Zen, like a baby seal swimming in a pool of hungry sharks, meanders around the cafés and piazzas of Catania, with little interest in carrying out his non-job at the local Questura and unable to penetrate the closed, secretive culture of the Sicilians for whom the mainland and everything beyond is ‘il continente’ – marginal and nothing to do with the real business of life. Unfortunately, several lives are going to depend on Zen’s ability and willingness to decode the messages – from local Mafia clans and others – that are being sent to him. But he’s clearly portrayed as an outsider from his very first appearance in the narrative, utterly out of his league. Events take on a nasty inevitability from very early on and the tension for the reader is generated by wondering whether he will be able to turn them aside, like someone wrestling with the wheel of an out-of-control car.

Inevitability or not, there are still several nasty shocks awaiting the reader along the way from an author who has never been afraid to take risks with his characters. Another important fact about this book. It’s famous for… a certain incident which happens on the very last page. Unfortunately I did not escape spoilers regarding this cliff-hanger ending and its aftermath – but, I think unless you were reading each one as it came off the presses, it would have been very hard to do so. I think most intelligent readers would probably have spotted it coming, as well. And one thing’s for certain. I don’t think I’ll be having too much trouble reading on this time.

This entry was posted on Friday, April 21st, 2006 at 4:28 pm and is filed under 2006 reading challenge. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.