Review of The Damned Season by Carlo Lucarelli, translated by Michael Reynolds, Europa Editions (2007, in Italian in 1991)

The Damned Season is the second book in Lucarelli’s De Luca trilogy set at the end of the second world war in Italy. Former Commissario De Luca, a leading investigative detective in the fascist regime and now a wanted man, is heading south from Milan trying to sneak through partisan country towards Rome. Exhausted and hungry he’s discovered resting by a young cop – Brigadier Leonardi – who’s learning his trade in a rural area where official law is still loosely applied in the post-Mussolini period. Leonardi immediately recognises De Luca as a detective who’d lectured on his training course, but rather than hand him over to the authorities he decides that De Luca could give him valuable one-on-one training, and he has a horrific case that needs solving – Delmo, a local peasant, and his family have been tortured and killed. De Luca reluctantly agrees but soon all the locals are wondering who this stranger in their mist is, not least Carnera, the local partisan leader.

I have pretty much the same issues with the second book in the series as I did with the first, Carte Blanche (reviewed here). I think Lucarelli is a wonderful writer – I love his style and the way the story is told, but the book is simply too thin for me and the story underdeveloped (the book is less than 100 pages long). What I wanted as a reader was the story fleshed out to give more insight into De Luca’s flight and the back story of the area and some of the locals, particularly the various victims and the partisans. As it stands, Lucarelli has pared it back as about as far as it’ll go to tell a relatively complex story. It almost feels like an extended synopsis rather than a dense novella. In addition, the story wasn’t as compelling as the first book, particularly as the ending was so flimsily resolved (they’re looking for a needle in a haystack and they find it straightaway). So at one level, I really admired the writing, but at another I was left a little frustrated. Like the first book, I’m left with the sense that what is an okay novella could have been a minor masterpiece if extended and deepened. That said, I'm compelled to read the final installment to the trilogy.

Review of Carte Blanche by Carlo Lucarelli, translated by Michael Reynolds, Europa Editions (2006, in Italian in 1990)

April 1945 in Northern Italy and Commissario De Luca has transferred from the Brigata Ettore Muti – the political police - to the civil police force, insisting that he is nothing more than a police man, not a puppet of the fascist regime. His first day in his new job and he’s assigned to the murder of Rehinard, an Italian citizen, member of the Fascist Republican Party with political connections to Il Duce and Count Tedesco (the Minister for Foreign Affairs) and a serial womaniser. As the allies advance northwards and the partisans gain in confidence and take pot shots at the fascist forces, De Luca becomes unwillingly embroiled in a political fight between members of a dying regime, picking his way through the minefield whilst determined to solve Rehinard’s murder.

‘What do you think the Chief will say?’
‘What will the Chief say?’ Pugiese repeated with a wry smile.
‘What I’m about to tell you now.’ De Luca pulled his badge out from inside his trench coat and opened it before a militiaman who was heading towards them with a menacing look. ‘Out of my fucking way, son,’ he said. ‘This here is none of your business. Just forget it.’

Carte Blanche is a novella, less than 100 pages long. The narrative is driven along by what the characters say and do, with little thick description of looks or thoughts or back story. However, the characterization does not suffer from such a writing style and De Luca and his colleagues are brought to life in an economical fashion that lets the story rip along. The book might be short, but the story is complex, full and rounded, and my immediate response on finishing was, ‘I need the next book - now!’ On reflection, I’m trying to decide if that’s partially a response to the book being so thin; that I wanted Lucarelli to flesh out Carte Blanche into a full novel – and I certainly think there was scope to do that. I’m not sure - I really enjoyed this book, and it does work as a novella, but I can’t help wondering if the other two parts of the trilogy are simply the last two parts of the same story split into two further books (they are only another 290 pages between them) , or feeling that there was an opportunity lost to produce a real masterpiece. Nevertheless a fine piece of work and I’ve already ordered the other two parts of the trilogy.

Uriah Robinson at Crime Scraps recommended the book to me - thanks. His review is here.
Also reviewed by Eurocrime.