BOOK REVIEW

Why no local authors ?

The Lizard's Bite, by David Hewson, 481 pp, 2007 Pan paperback, Available at Asia Books and leading book stores, 350 baht

BERNARD TRINK

In the 20th century, more than a few national rulers tried to emulate their respective Golden Ages. Few succeeded. Despite Mussolini's efforts, the Italian troops fell short of Julius Caesar's legions. The French forces were a far cry from Napoleon's Grande Armee. The Wehrmacht and Imperial Japanese military did Vercingetorex and the Samurai proud, for a while at least. Britain came closest to walking in Wellington's footsteps.

In the immediate post war years, a country with no cinema traditions to recapture came out with leading films helmed by the likes of Rossellini, De Sica, Antonioni, Visconti and Fellini. However, Italian literature, with a tradition extending back to the Renaissance didn't take off. Curiously, it still hasn't. Virtually all the novels we read set in Italy are penned abroad by non-Italians.

A case in point is Brit David Hewson's crime fiction, focussing on Rome and Venice written at his home in Kent. Yet he appears to be thoroughly familiar with the land. Meals taken in the trattorias and at home, are described in mouth-watering detail. Not least the wines. The author, a former Sunday Times journalist, writes credible dialogue though he tends to go off on philosophical tangents. His literary creations are Roman police detectives Nic Costa and Gianni Peroni.The Lizard's Bite is his fourth book, all featuring them. Following the form in the genre west and east, they rub their superiors the wrong way. Determined to see justice done, letting the chips fall where they may, they ignore the sensitive aspects of the cases to which they are assigned. This leads to ruffling feathers, those in high places resenting being embarrassed.

Done once too often, the duo were sent from bustling Rome to moribund Venice for a spell, like a teacher making a naughty pupil stand in a corner. Whether they learned their lesson is a moot question. They can't wait to return to the capital. While in the Bangkok of the West, there's a fire with two bodies. Costa and Peroni are expected to confirm the findings of the local police that it was an accident.

Their investigation convinces them that there was a double crime: arson and murder. A glass factory in the red, the family owning it in debt. A potential English buyer not on the up and up. The brute who had it in for them put the lives of our heroes at risk. Personae are killed along the way, the funerals taking pages to describe. The reader is given a crash course in glass-blowing, DNA testing, what the sirocco from the Sahara is like.

This reviewer has the impression that the quality of the Italian armed forces will improve before Italian authors write novels that become world famous. Umberto Eco has his followers, but isn't mainstream. Be that as it may, I await David Hewson's subsequent novels in this series.

Bangkok Post
Friday February 02, 2007