Without meaning to I appear to be in the middle of an Italian splurge.
Recently I picked up a copy of 
the Shape of Water by Andrea Camilleri - just caught my eye in Waterstones - which features an Inspector Montalbano and is set in Sicily. Inspector Montalbano is a lover of fine wine and food and there are copious descriptions of the food left for him by his housekeeper who appears to be a cook of supreme talent; he has a long distance relationship with a lady called Livia who he seems to be avoiding marrying and I am not totally sure if he is in any way likeable or even interesting. Somehow I found myself reading a second, The Voice of the Violin, which was only marginally better than the first and yet, I now find that I want to continue reading them as Inspector Montalbano's private life is a thread running through these books and I want to know what happens. Googling Andrea Camilleri reveals that the reviews he seems to garner can best be described as 'mixed' and yet he is one of Italy's best selling authors. An Italian Jeffrey Archer perhaps?
And then there is Donna Leon. I keep stumbling across articles about her in various magazines and thought I would give her books a whirl. After all they are set in Venice, one of my most favourite places on earth, so that is a good start. The first one I picked off the shelf was Death at La Fenice. A murder story set at the opera in Venice - irresistible. The victim is an arrogant German conductor with a penchant for fast cars and young wives and if this character is not based on the late Herbert von Karajan then I shall eat my baton.Her hero Commissario Guido Brunetti is a much more rounded figure than Inspector Montelbano. This is probably due to the writing which is streets ahead of that of Camilleri, plus the fact that whereas Inspector Montalbano lives in a fictional town in Sicily, Commissario Brunetti lives in a city so well known that when we are told Guido is walking across the Rialto Bridge or stopping to admire the view of Santa Maria D'Assolutto, we know exactly where he is. Venice also has the added bonus that at night it is just so damn sinister!
And to round off my Italian sojourn, I have sitting on my coffee table, Francesco's Italy by Count 
Francesco da Mosto, a book to accompany the BBC series which just finished last Sunday. Last year he presented Francesco's Venice and I became totally besotted with this charismatic delightful man. Not in any sense classically good looking but full of warmth, wit and obvious love for his native city and the rest of his country. I personally would pay the BBC good money to extend his travels so that we could have Francesco's France, Francesco's Greece, Francesco's...but I think you get the drift.
Italy are now in the finals of the World Cup of course so I think I know who I will be supporting on Sunday.
Now where is my bottle of Chianti...?
Addio amici
