Book review: A Dead Man in... Naples

Michael Pearce's cozy crime novel (2009) captures the period of Naples just prior to the First World War (1913): ‘Things spilled out from the workshops: wood from the carpenters and turners, sheets of cork newly cut from the trees on the hills above the city, great sweeps of sailcloth spreading right across the street, blocking off the view; half-completed rush mats, wickerwork baskets and chairs still being worked on, their spokes pointing up into the air, low wooden racks filled with pipes in various stages of progress.’ (p110)

There’s plenty of light humour, too: ‘The people he tried speaking to in the street were nearly incomprehensible, especially if, as was often the case, their reply came from a mouth practically without teeth.’ (p111)

This is one of several books in the ‘A Dead Man in…’ series concerning the Special Branch police officer Seymour working for the Foreign Office. This time he’s called to Naples as a consular official called Scampion has been murdered in the street. Much of the plot revolves around the new craze of bicycling and an upcoming race, which might involve the Camorra, the secret society, political chicanery, gambling and thwarted love.

The characters are well drawn, mostly revealed through dialogue, but there’s little in the way of ‘show’, it’s mostly ‘tell’ by the characters’ speech. Seymour and his fiancée Chantale do not involve the reader, sadly, though they have their uses to join the dots to arrive at the (fairly obvious) solution to the mystery of Scampion’s demise.

Editorial comments

 

Very few typos, but here’s one:

‘Where they children of my people…’ – 'Where' should be 'Were'. (p102)

Inconsistency:

Betting slip: ‘The one you found in your brother’s trousers?’ (p104) Unfortunately, the slip was found in her brother’s shorts.

Characters beginning with the same initial (writers should try to avoid this to avert confusion!):

Giorgio and Giuseppi. (There are plenty of Italian male names to choose from, after all!)

Scampion and Seymour.

Book of the film - Where Angels Fear to Tread

Published in 1905, when Forster was 26, this debut novel is regarded as a modern classic. He only published six novels.  He was inspired by journeys to Italy with his mother (in 1901). For a young man’s debut, it is accomplished. It’s written from an omniscient point of view, so that we hear the author as much as any character’s thoughts, which was – and perhaps still is – the fashion in literary fiction. It begins as an Edwardian comic piece but towards the end turns into a tragedy.

As it’s omniscient, the book’s an ideal vehicle for filming, with some great dialogue. Starring Helena Bonham Carter, Judy Davis, Helen Mirren and Rupert Graves, this 1991 film is faithful to the book. Doubtless due to the running time, some of the humorous pieces from the beginning were omitted or cut short. The music by Rachel Portman enhances the narrative.

 

The young widow Lilia Herriton (Mirren) tours Italy, leaving her daughter with her mother-in-law. She’s chaperoned by neighbour Caroline (Bonham Carter). When Lilia announces her marriage to Gino (Giovanni Guidelli), an Italian a dozen years younger than her, there are ructions at home and Philip (Graves) is despatched to put matters right. Philip is accompanied by his sister, Harriet (Davis). However, Philip is ineffectual and fails in his mission. To say more would spoil the story.

Edward Morgan Forster

Forster intended that the book should be about the improvement of Philip, according to one of his letters. Yet much of the first portion of the book is as much about Lilia and her rocky relationship with Gino and Philip’s implacable mother, Mrs Herriton.

Mirren and Guidelli

The editor for this book states that he finds the book ‘flawless – in the perfection of its structure, its subtle use of leitmotifs, etc.’ Much of the ‘etc’ I can agree with, but not the structure, which I found uneven, and some of the head-hopping quite annoying.

However, what won me over were Forster’s acute observation and his humour. There are many brief examples of the latter, and I’ll provide a few here: ‘Florence she found perfectly sweet, Naples a dream, but very whiffy.’

When learning of Lilia’s outrageous behaviour, Mrs Herriton fumes, ending with, ‘I am going to the kitchen , to speak about the range.’ She spoke just too much, and the cook said that if she could not give satisfaction she had better leave.

For three years (Philip) had sung the praises of the Italians, but he had never contemplated having one as a relative.

Philip’s sister Harriet accompanies him on another mercy mission to Italy and when asked about her ticket, she replied, ‘A single for me, I shall never get back alive.’ Perhaps because she held the view ‘foreigners are a filthy nation.’

Towards the end, Philip deduced that ‘For our vanity is such that we hold our own characters immutable, and we are slow to acknowledge that they have changed, even for the better.’ And that’s the case, though there is a neat little twist ending, which is retained in the film.