This is the only one of Dibdin's books I've read. Definitely has its points. The characterization is very uneven, but can be very good (Dr. Lucchese) and even brilliant (Minot). The style is good and mostly engaging, thought sometimes he strains a bit too hard for intellectual stature even at the stylistic level. The portrayal of Italy is fascinating.But these are on the surface--which is enough for the critics. Underneath, it adds up to a good deal less than a run-of-the-mill pulp mystery. The general intellectual premisses are just facile deconstructionism, which is popular in some circles in Italy as an excuse for that country's numerous and self-destructive "tangenti". (My degrees are in philosophy; I've read plenty of postmodern stuff raw, so I recognize the syndrome in fiction.) That is to say, sophomoric nihilism, with no attempt to relate apparent moral or philosophic dilemmas or paradoxes to their context in a genuinely critical fashion (which would interfere with facile generalization). In evidence, I submit the fact that the detective, Zen, finishes up by using what are, in the situation, unmitigatedly despicable (and, incidentally, highly illegal) means to entrap an innocent man into confessing to a murder. Granted, Zen (probably) thinks the man guilty. But that's not much of an excuse for a fictional detective--at least for one who never looks beyond his false solution, and who has explicit orders to produce a solution of a certain type whether or not the person ultimately convicted is guilty. The murderer is ultimately uncovered by chance. But if there's any sort of intellectual resolution in that, it's based on some sort of perverse theology (presumably in post-modern dress).Furthermore, the personality of Zen himself is little more than an aggregate of psychological symptoms that exist more in the pages of psychoanalytic texts than in reality. The psychological subplot of the book (having to do with Zen's personal life), and the resolution of that subplot, depend entirely on these premisses. Perhaps it says something that by far the best psychological portrait in the book is that of the evil and twisted Minot. As to psychology, Dibdin was behind the times in 1998, when this book was written. The ideas he uses to "analyze" and motivate Zen have dated even more rapidly since then, thanks to advances in neuroscience, which has, at long last, introduced scientific standards (and humility) to the study of the mind.Dibdin obviously had Machiavelli in mind as an intellectual theme. But, as usual, this is the bogeyman Machiavelli, a meme who is ultimately to be identified with the depraved Cesare Borgia whose stratagems were detailed in Machiavelli's "Descrizione del modo tenuto dal duca Valentino nello ammazzare Vitellozzo Vitelli, Oliverotto da Fermo, il signore Pagolo e il dica di Gravina Orsini". ("Description of the methods used by Duke Valentino [i.e., Borgia] in the murders of Vitellozzo Vitelli [etc.]") And as usual, Machiavelli's awareness of the difference between morality at the state level and at the personal level are ignored.Borgia is the intellectual ancestor of Dibdin's Minot. Machiavelli, however, was just writing down a historical case study. Fictional versions of the same can just as easily serve the ends of escapism ("it only happens like that in books") or backhanded endorsement ("that's the way the world is, may as well go along"). Avoiding such misunderstandings, if the author believes them to be misunderstandings, requires a far more detailed treatment of the issues than Dibdin provides, and more than is generally feasible in any work of narrative fiction. Which is why direct philosophical treatises, rather than fiction, are the place for serious treatment of such themes. And why fiction that attempts to treat them is rarely read for genuine pleasure, intellectual or otherwise--though those for whom intellectual activity is not a pleasure may read them as a cultural duty.Dibdin is remarkable in that he manages to make the reading of his book rather pleasurable, at least on a page-by-page basis. But for me, the flaws became more and more apparent as I went on, and I became more and more doubtful that Dibdin would be able to provide a resolution that would show me that the flaws were not flaws at all. At the end, when it became clear that Dibdin saw nothing at all that needed to be resolved, the sum total was not pleasure, but annoyance and disappointment.
Dibdin wrote a series concerning a gruff, shrewd, and slightly out of it detective named Aurelio Zen. These are set in Italy, and clearly the author has a great fascination with all things and people Italian. He enjoys the Italian machismo, the food, the wine, the long histories and conflicts behind the daily interactions. This author was clearly an educated man (I think he went to Oxford) who did his research, and he is in the more literary wing of the mystery genre. That is my cup of tea too, or one of them at least. This is my favorite of his books that I have read.This one takes place in one of the Italian wine growing areas somewhere near Alba in the Piedmont region. Zen, a high ranking detective in the National Police, is sent there to investigate the murder of the patriarch of locally prominent wine family. Someone who has connections to the police wants to make sure that the man’s son, who is the prime suspect, gets to supervise the production of that season’s wine. When Zen arrives he finds a complex mix of people, with loyalties and hatreds that go back for years. The story bounces back and forth between the investigation and three local blue collar men who are clearly involved in some way, but we are never sure how until the end. Dibdin plots the story superbly, and the story unrolls bit by interesting bit. He does a superb job of playing with the mystery reader’s expectations; subtle changes in which way the wind is blowing, a character falls under suspicion, then appears to be cleared, and is then under suspicion again. The ending, in which Zen, using gabby and manipulative interrogations, finally elicits what appears to be the truth, is masterful. And then in the last pages, another twist, the whole story goes up in the air again, and then lands with all the pieces in place. The supporting cast, which is always vital in a mystery, is very good: an eccentric, aristocratic physician; a twisted, solitary man who appears to be the villain; and a well-educated young winemaker who may be queer are all interesting. Dibdin does sometimes rely on stock characters and stereotypical Italian behavior, but these do not sink the story. This is one of those rare mysteries that are more intriguing at the end than at the beginning – at first I wasn’t crazy about it, I found it a little passionless and the main character dull, but as it went on more personality and style and good writing came into evidence.
Do You like book A Long Finish (2015)?
Why do I keep reading these books that I DON'T like? Ugggh!From cover:"In Italian Criminalpol officer Aurelio Zen, Michael Dibdin has given the mystery one of its most intriguing protagonists: a man wearily trying to enforce the law in a society where the law is constantly being bent. Case in point: When the son of a Piedmontese wine-making family is jailed for killing his father, Zen is ordered to secure his release. The reason: A certain well-connected connoisseur wants to make sure that this year's vintage goes to harvest.In the town of Alba, Zen discovers a traditional culture in which family and soil are inextricably linked, and finds himself bombarded with gossip and stalked by a mysterious telephone caller with tantalizing clues to Zen's own past. He also - grazie a Dio! - discovers the considerable pleasures of Piedmontese wine and truffles. A delectable farrago of greed and vengeance, food and drink, A Long Finish is Dibdin at his most elegant, funny, and surprising."
—Louise
Few people can execute a mystery as does Dibdin! Aurelio Zen is a flawed genius--funny, conniving, yet still likeable, in part due to his innate sense of honor. I also enjoy the way this series has moved around Italy, and this book, set in truffle country in the far north, reminds me of life in any smaller community that has enjoyed a relatively stable population for generations. A convoluted plot with twists and turns that still remain believable. As always, the title has multiple meanings. One of the best in a strong oeuvre!
—Janet Martin
Aurelio Zen is back in Rome after 'success' in his Naples assignment. He is sent, for rather unorthodox reasons, to investigate the brutal murder of a high-end winery owner to ensure he gets cleared of the crime and this season's wine gets produced. Then there is a second murder that may be related. And a woman who shows up claiming to be his daughter. Against all odds, Zen solves the case. Or does he just get two innocent men to confess to a crime they didn't commit.A bit of an uneven installme
—Nanosynergy
