tShe had been lecturing, recently, on the theme of honor and honorable behavior and the way it was central to Wharton's three great novels, but she was preoccupied with whether the concept still had the same meaning for her students; indeed, whether it had any meaning for her students…. Though she walked through the city of Venice to reach her classroom, it was New York that was on her mind, the city where the drama of the lives of the women in Wharton's novels had played out a century ago. Attempting to navigate the shoals of social custom, old and new money, the established power of men, and the sometimes greater power of their own beauty and charm, her three protagonists found themselves perpetually buffeted against the hidden rocks of honor. But passage of time, Paola reflected, had vaporized from the common mind any universal agreement on what constituted honorable behavior.tCertainly the books did not suggest that honor triumphed: in one case it cost the heroine her life; another lost her happiness because of it; the third triumphed only because of a constitutional inability to perceive it. How, then, to argue for its importance, especially to a class of young people who would identify -- if indeed students were any longer capable of identification with characters who were not in film -- only with the third? (p. 6-7)The failure of her profession no longer troubled her to the extent it had years ago, when she had first realized how incomprehensible much of what she said, and probably what she believed, was to her students. During her seventh year of teaching, she'd made a reference to the Iliad and, in the face of general blankness, had discovered that only one of the students in the class had any memory of having read it, and even he was utterly incapable of understanding the concept of heroic behavior. The Trojans had lost, hadn't they, so who cared how Hector had behaved? (p. 8)t"Why is it so bad all of a sudden?" Brunetti asked.t"It's not really all of a sudden. It's more that I've become aware of how bad it's become."t"Give me an example," he said.t"Ten years ago, I could force them into accepting the fact, or at least giving lip service to the idea, that the culture that formed me, all those books and ideas that our generation grew up on -- Plato, Virgil, Dante -- that it was superior in some way to whatever fills their lives. Or, if not superior, then at least interesting enough to be worthy of some study…. But that doesn't happen anymore. They think, or at least they seem to think, that their culture, with its noise and acquisitiveness and immediate forgettability is superior to all of our stupid ideas."t"Like?"t"Like our no doubt ridiculous idea that beauty conforms to some standard or ideal; like our risible belief that we have the option to behave honorably and should take it; and like our idiotic idea that the final purpose of human existence is something more than the acquisition of wealth." (p. 68)Paola put on her glasses and drifted into the sort of trance state that the reading of student papers is bound to induce in the adult mind. (p. 147)Brunetti wondered if he'd even ever heard Marco use a complex grammatical structure, so accustomed was he to his use of the simple declarative. (p. 17)He stopped and they exchanged a smile, both struck by how immediate and democratic was the union of people who sought and found intellectual solace within the pages of books. (p. 41-42)t"You won't tell anyone?" she blurted out. The tone in which she asked this reminded Brunetti that the girl was not much older than his own children and that her intellectual sophistication didn't necessarily imply any other sort of maturity. (p. 42)He stepped on board [the vaporetto] and made for the doors of the cabin, only to find his way blocked by an enormous backpack suspended from the shoulders of an even more enormous woman. It seemed to him that in the last few years American tourists had doubled in size. They had always been big, but big in the way the Scandinavians were big: tall and muscular. But now they were lumpish and soft as well as big, agglomerations of sausage-like limbs that left him with the sensation that his hand would come away slick if he touched them.tHe knew it was impossible for human physiology to change at less than glacial speed, but he suspected some shocking transformation had nevertheless taken place in what was required to sustain human life: these people seemed incapable of survival without frequent infusions of water or carbonated drinks, for they all clutched at their litre-and-a-half bottles as though they alone offered the possibility of continued life. (p. 50-51)t….the brief period he spent pushing and evading, his way through the streets of San Lio and the fish market soured his humor and brought his ever-simmering dislike of tourists to the boil. Why were they so slow and fat and lethargic? Why did they all have to get in his way? Why couldn't they, for God's sake, learn to walk properly in a city and not moon about like people at a country fair asked to judge the fattest pig? (p.235-236)"That's the sort of people they were. Scum. Pretentious, upstart scum, the usual sort of people who are attracted to that kind of political idea. It's the only chance they'll ever have in their lives to have power or wealth, and so they gang together like rats and take what they can. Then, as soon as the game's up, they're the first to say they were morally opposed all the time but feared for the safety of their families. It's remarkable the way like that always manage to find some high-sounding excuse for what they did." (p. 60-61)t"I'm afraid it costs people too much to abandon what they believe,' Brunetti offered by way of explanation. "If you give your loyalty and, I suppose, your love to ideas like that then it's all but impossible to admit what madness they are." (p. 171)tIn keeping with the change in the season, Paola had made risotto di zucca and into it at the last minute had tossed grated slivers of ginger, its sharp bite softened to amiability by the chunk of butter and the grated parmigiano that had chased it into the pot. The mingled tastes drove all dread of Raffi's music from Brunetti's mind, and the chicken breast grilled with sage and white wine that followed replaced the music with what Brunetti thought must be the sound of angels singing. (p. 66)tHe recalled, then, something he had seen with Paola, it must have been four years ago. They'd been at an exhibition of the paintings of the Colombian painter, Botero, she drawn to the wild exuberance of the portraits of fat, pie-faced men and women, all possessed of the same tiny rosebud mouth. In front of them was a teacher with a class of children who couldn't have been more than eight or nine. As he and Paola came into the last room of the exhibition, they heard the teacher say, "Now, ragazzi, we're going to leave, but there are a lot of people here who don't want to be disturbed by our noise or talking. So what we're all going to do," she went on, pointing to her own mouth, "is make la bocca di Botero." Delighted, the children all placed single fingers on their lips and drew their mouths into tight imitations of those in the paintings as they tiptoed giggling from the room. Since then, whenever either he or Paola knew that to speak might be indiscreet, they invoked "la bocca di Botero", and no doubt thus saved themselves a great deal of trouble, to make no mention of time and wasted energy. (p. 129-130)"She had a complex mind, at least from what I knew of her. But one would never, somehow, associate her with money."t"Why?"t"She didn't seem interested in it, not at all. In fact I remember noticing, when she'd comment on why characters in novels did things, that she was always slightly puzzled that people could be led to do things by greed, almost as if she didn't understand it, or it didn't make any human sense to her. So, no, she wouldn't spend it on anything she wanted for herself."t"But that's just books," he said.t"I beg your pardon," Paola said, not calmly.t"I mean, you said it was comments she'd made about characters in books. How can that show you what she'd behave like in real life?"tHe heard her sigh, but her answer, when it came, showed no lack of patience or sympathy. "When we tell people about what's happened to our family or our friends we can judge pretty accurately how decent they are by the way they respond, can't we?"t"Of course."t"It's no different just because the people you're talking about are characters in a book, Guido. You should know that by now, that is if you've paid any attention to anything I've said during the last twenty years." (p. 138-139)tHer glance was direct, its keenness touched by a faint clouding of age. "What's to tell? We were young, I was in love, and the future was ours."tBrunetti permitted himself to respond to the intimacy of the reamer. "Only you were in love?"tHer smile was that of an old person, one who had left almost everything behind. "I told you: he was beautiful. Men like that, in the end, love only themselves." Before he could comment, she added, "I didn't know it then. Or didn't want to." She reached for another cigarette and lit it. Blowing out a long trail of smoke, she said, "It comes to the same thing, though, doesn't it?" She turned the burning tip of the cigarette towards herself, looked at it for a moment, then said, "The strange thing is that, even knowing this about him, it doesn't change the way I loved him. And still do." she glanced up at him, then down at her lap. Softly, she said, "That's why I wanted to give him back his good name."tBrunetti remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her. Sensing this, she went on, "It was all so exciting, the sense or the hope that everything would be made new. Austria had been full of it for years, and so it never occurred to me to question it. And when I saw it again here, in men like Luca and his friends, I couldn't see what it really was or what they were really like or that all it would bring us, all of us, was death and suffering." She sighed and then added, "Neither could Luca." (p. 216-217)tWalking home, Brunetti played back in his mind the conversation with Signora Jacobs. He was puzzled by the paradox between her bleak observation that Guzzardi was capable of loving only himself and the profundity of the love she still felt for him. Love rendered people foolish, he knew, sometimes more than that, but it usually provided them with the anesthesia necessary to blind them to the contradictions in their own behavior. Not so Signora Jacobs, who seemed utterly devoid of illusions about her former lover. How sad, to be as clear-eyed about your weakness as helpless to resist it. (p. 225)
11th in the Commissario Brunetti series set in Venice, Italy.[return][return]A young woman, one of Paola s students, approaches Paola after class with an odd question: since Paola s husband is a policeman, the student wants to know if there is any legal process by which a person who has already died can be declared innocent of a crime for which he was convicted and sentenced. Paola dutifully asks Guido; he, of course, can not answer so vague a question. Claudia, the young student, visits Brunetti at the Questura and gives him more details, enough so that Brunetti is intrigued, and begins privately inquiring about Claudia s grandfather; Brunetti discovers that the grandfather was an antiquarian who is believed to have acquired priceless art treasures during the war from desperate people, mostly Jews, who sold them for a pittance in order to escape Europe. Before Brunetti can learn much more, Claudia is found murdered.[return][return]Leon almost always includes as an integral part of her plots some social issue, which she uses extremely well as a device to give added interest to the story and to illuminate a societal condition. The disappearance of art collections, both into the hands of the Nazis and into private ones as well, is a phenomenon that has reverberations to this day, as heirs of the original owners try to recover art works that were either stolen or coerced from their relatives during World War II. In addition, Leon gives glimpses, through Brunetti s and Paola s family histories, of some of the horrors of the Italian participation in World War II and the current national amnesia on the subject. It s an absorbing matrix for the plot.[return][return]By this time, Leon s fans are well acquainted with her recurring characters, who are the strongest elements of the books. Particularly well done is Brunetti s family--Paola and his teen-age children, Raffi and Chiara. There is a particularly hilarious scene at the dinner table when the kids make the mistake of asking for cell phones. Vianello has finally received his promotion to Inspector, and Brunetti s father-in-law, Count Falier, has another of his trade mark appearances.[return][return]The plot is very good and the writing is strong. It does take a little time to get the story going, but after that it s absorbing if not a page-turner. Justice is served Italian style at the end; there is no such thing as a clean resolution in modern Venice.[return][return]While the book is not among Leon s best installments in the series, it is still well worth reading if only for the history. Highly recommended.
What do You think about Wilful Behaviour (2003)?
I am going to do this review in two parts one for the book and one for the audio edition. The book is another thoughtful addition to the Commissario Guido Brunetti series.There is always a mix of mystery, ethics and politics that are blended together to make it an engaging series with a mix of both thoughtful characters and inept impediments to solutions and progress. I enjoyed the book quite a bit and would recommend it. This was an audio "read" for me as has been most of the series. They are perfect for audio and the reading by David Colacci, who narrates most of the series, always gives it an Italian / Venetian flare that transports you to Brunetti's surroundings. I can hear the characters in my head with his voice when I read one of the books. So I was not prepared for this one narrated by Steven Crossley. Suddenly Brunetti has an English accent as do all the rest of the characters. It was unsettling and I couldn't get used to it. I am not opposed to change but having Brunetti sound English just didn't make the pasta sit right. It was a skillful narration but it just felt wrong...
—Nadeen
The fourth book ticked off my TBR challenge. It was an enjoyable read - I love Venice and the art-related crime was a bonus. Quite weirdly this is the week that the digital version of Entarte Kunst was placed online by the V&A and a copy of the New York Times had a front page article about tracing the owners of looted art in France (perhaps because of the Monument Men movie? or just serendipity?) The solution was satisfyingly unexpected; the victims were not just ciphers but people one cared about; Brunetti and his wife and colleagues have the same kind of complicated lives we all live, and all through the book there was a palpable sense of the real Venice. But what I enjoyed most were the brief discussions about how great literature (in this case Henry James) explores and expresses the essential concerns of humanity such as honour and familial love. Great crime, absorbing characterisation and narrative, and a dash of intellectual stimulation. Yay.
—Deborah
I have never read a novel by Donna Leon and so was unfamiliar with the length series that this book was a part of. However, I don't think that you would be lost if you were to pick up this book like I did and start reading in the middle of the series about this Detective Brunetti. For me this was an VERY slow read. I am not certain if it was intentional by Leon because that is what the Italian lifestyle is like or if it was an unfortunate outcome of the plot itself. It was really hard to keep my focus and I found myself putting the book down for several days and then picking it back up only to repeat this process. In terms of the characters and Italy, it was exquisitely written. The description was wonderful and it felt like I was really walking the streets of Italy, embracing their culture, and experiencing a place that I am not familiar with. Leon gives great descriptions of the characters as well and it feels as if the Detective and the reader are old friends.Unfortunately, the plot didn't really work for me. I found myself not really invested in the murder of Detective Brunetti' wife's student. The only thing that kept me reading was to find out why she was murdered for my own personal interest. It seemed like even Leon was tired of writing it about halfway through and perhaps that is why it dragged. There were still a few twists while trying to solve the murder, but it read more like a travel book documenting the Italian lifestyle than as a murder mystery.Overall, this novel had great descriptions, but it was a very slow read and dragged on. I think that many individuals who have already read the previous books in the series will love this book. However, if you are a newcomer like myself, I recommend starting with the first book in the series before taking this one on.Rating: 2.5 out of 5I borrowed this book from a local library; I was not paid or asked to do a review of this book.www.thepensivechronicler.blogspot.com
—Nicole Mcbride
