The 2nd book in the Marshall Guarnaccia series, set in Florence. [return][return]The plodding beginning is set in a torridly hot period of time in Florence. Among reports of an Instamatic camera stolen in Pisa and various Fiat 500s, the Marshall responds to a call from a 91 year old woman about a potential problem in the flat next door. This turns out to be the death of a "Dutchman"--so-called because his father was Dutch, even though his mother was Italian, and the boy was born and raised in Florence. The death is considered a suicide, except that there are certain anomalies that bother the Marshall, who quietly begins to investigate on his own.[return][return]The pace picks up considerably in the middle of the book and in the last third, becomes a real page turner. The plot is excellent; the subplot involving Digos, the secret police, is not very prominent in the story but becomes well-integrated into the main plot line.[return][return]Nabb slowly and carefully develops a fascinating plot that is typical of the series; a series of seemingly unimportant details but loose ends in a satisfyingly complicated plot: the marshal himself, an inarticulate man who, once he fully engages in a case hangs on like a bulldog; a cast of lively, well-drawn characters; quiet, understated but highly effective writing; and a marvelous evocation of Florence itself the Florence of its residents, not of tourists.[return][return]An excellent book. Highly recommended.
Difficult to know what happened with this. On the plus side, you have the delicately-rendered atmosphere of Florence, memorable characters that aren't 'mystery story characters', an intriguing dilemma, a surreal set-piece (the pursuit thru the old city), a blind eyewitness, and eventually, a good set of closing plot-points and revelations.And an interesting appearance of the Confratelli Misericordia di Fiorenze, a kind of paramedic catholic brotherhood with a history back to the plague years in Florence.But it's an upside-down cake of a book, one that just didn't properly reverse itself out of the pan. Many many moments are spent drifting around aimlessly in the middle two-thirds of the story, taking reader and the detective on a confusing, drifting circle thru the plot. That's a strategy that can work nicely if, beneath the surface, unassuming clues are strewn during the 'drifting' period; still waters running deep, etc. But not the vaguest sense of inevitability in these chapters, or even anything like a false solution, crops up to punctuate the narrative.So a little more maddening that something that just doesn't work, or is just second rate. Ideal ingredients, albeit a meandering recipe, and finally no cake and no eating it either.Doesn't put me off, though. Mozart had off days too. I'll try another Magdalen Nabb anytime.
Do You like book Death Of A Dutchman (2005)?
This is one of the early Nabb-novels about Constable Guarnaccia. The difference between him and Comissario Brunetti by Donna Leon is, that he is actually not the man in charge of solving the crime. He's just a regular head of a small police department, only in charge of his 3 or 4 younger colleagues and mostly concerned with thefts of a Fiat.In this novel he finds an almost dead Dutchman, who looks as if he comitted suicide. But there is something that doesn't fit into this theory of suicide, Guarnaccia thinks. And so he starts to investigate secretly by himself, with the help of a 91-year-old neighbor, a blind man and old collegues of the dutchman. I did guess the outcome of the story several pages before the end, but it was nevertheless a very good story with a very likable main character.
—Karschtl
Originally published in 1982—probably not worth re-reading. The mystery takes place in Florence and revolves around the apparent suicide of a Dutchman with a ninety-one year old former beauty as the primary witness. Through the tenacity of the Marshal, the mystery is unraveled. Two interesting asides. (1) There are cultures that are more interested in exiting life properly than sustaining it. (2) Due to lack of cemetery space, bodies in Florence are buried for 10 years, but then are dug up, the bones put in a special container, and the grave used by the next person.
—Beth
