Nostalgia City Mysteries

Mark S. Bacon

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About mbaconauthor

Mystery writer and journalist; former newspaper police reporter.

Donna Leon paints a picture of murder

Beastly Things
by Donna Leon
Atlantic Monthly Press  288 pages
$10.20 paperback  $11.99 Kindle  $13.75 Nook

Police procedurals, sometimes plodding compared to their PI and amateur sleuth cousins, usually follow a cop’s methodical investigation.  In Donna Leon’s Beastly Things, Commissario Guido Brunetti moves one step at a time as he seeks the killer of a kindly veterinarian whose body is found floating in a Venice canal, but it’s Brunetti’s ruminations on official corruption, the human condition, treatment of animals, food and life in the Italian island city that make it a satisfying journey and, at times, a disturbing one.

Leon’s fans will enjoy this 21st installment that revisits familiar characters, although the book can be an easy introduction to the series (as it was for me). Beastly things sml All you need to know to enjoy the novel you’ll learn along the way.

The body pulled from the canal was not immediately identified by the medical examiner except to recognize the deceased’s deformity–extraordinarily thick shoulders and neck–caused by a rare disease.  Ultimately Brunetti identifies the victim as Andrea Nava and learns that he lives not in Venice but in Mestre, a nearby mainland city thus setting up a minor jurisdictional confrontation, almost  obligatory in cop novels.  In an interview with Nava’s wife, Brunetti learns that she was separated from her husband, that her husband was having sex with another woman and that in addition to his veterinary practice, he worked part time in a slaughter house.

The commisario follows up these leads, unconvinced that Nava’s wife had anything to do with his stabbing death.  On the trail of evidence, Brunetti invariably stops off in a café for coffee or wine and a snack with his assistant, Inspector Vianello and goes home for lunch with his wife.

As I read this I realized I was looking look for clues;  I read mysteries expecting the plot to proceed apace or reasonably so.  (Even Poirot keeps the little grey cells moving.)  I try to figure out who did it before the detective does.  To Brunetti, (or Leon) life itself is as important as the case.  We learn Brunetti is not the troubled loner of many detective stories but has a good home life and easy relationship with his wife.  His rich, influential in laws are another story, but they don’t figure heavily in this novel.

He’s also sensitive.  When he interviews Nava’s wife he delays telling her the bad news, hoping she will figure it out first.  His sensitivities–and vulnerabilities–show up clearly in a gruesome slaughter house scene, and after, when Brunetti discusses the values of vegetarianism with his family.

You could call him cynical.  He’s an Italian cop; he sees officialdom as a less than ethical system but he manages to go with the flow without compromising himself.  Or so it seemed in this installment of Leon’s series.  The system he’s a part of is explained in an internal dialog Brunetti has when he’s called into the office of his boss, Vice-Questor Giuseppe Patta.   His boss’s decade-long stay in his position was,

“in anomalous defiance of the rule that high police officials were transferred every few years. Patta’s tenacity in his post had puzzled Brunetti until he realized that the only policemen who were transferred away from cities where they combated crime were those who met with success, especially those who were successful in their opposition to the Mafia.”

Brunetti and Vianello visit Nava’s veterinary office then the slaughterhouse where they meet the boss and his attractive assistant.   The detective pair also interview the vet who worked at the slaughterhouse before Nava and they ultimately uncover a dirty secret.

Leon’s prose is effective and her occasional figurative language imaginative.   When Brunetti finally tells Nava’s wife that he’s dead, she faints in her chair.

“…her head fell against the back of the chair.  Then, like a sweater placed carelessly on a piece of furniture, she slithered to the floor at their feet.”

Humor here is of the nod-your-head-and-smile variety, often reflecting Brunetti’s foibles, such as when he visits a hospital.

            “A lifetime of good health had done nothing to counter the effects of imagination; thus Brunetti was often subject to the attacks of diseases to which he had not been exposed and of which he displayed no symptoms.”

 Brunetti is vaguely reminiscent of Inspector Jules Maigret, commenting on social conventions, popping into convenient cafes for a glass of wine and exploring the fascinating corners of his native city.  Rather than Paris, Venice is Brunetti’s beloved home and the city quickly becomes a character in the book.  Brunetti ponders Venice’s palazzos, churches, bars, and even the bothersome portable vendor stalls that block sidewalks.  In Beastly Things, Leon combines the city’s canals along with its natives, its tourists and its bureaucrats to paint a detailed, intriguing portrait.

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Today’s flash fiction

Laundry Ticket

Julie looked at the rows of cleaned clothes wrapped in plastic bags hanging from metal racks.  Many were work clothes: hospital scrubs, uniforms, business suits.

A heavyset gentleman came in asking for his order.

“Whaddaya mean they’re not done?” he said.  “Lemme see ‘em. Now.”

Alone in the laundry, Julie trembled.  A co-worker had told her Mr. Giordano’s garments had several blood stains.  Not all had come out.  And there’d been a knife in a pocket.

A casually dressed customer walked in, and Julie relaxed.  “Here’s your uniform Sergeant Torres,” she said.  “Is this where you pin on your badge?”

 

Deputy Es sml  3418

Humor, point of view, endings;            They’re all important in flash fiction

(Second in a two-part series)

“Look at me and my cat Miss Priss. They put us down on a planet named ‘Betty.’ It was a stupid joke at first, but nobody could think of anything better.”

This line from flash fiction writer Doug Mathewson’s quirky sci fi story, Planet Betty, The New World, provides a glimpse into the style of the Connecticut poet/flash fiction writer.  Recently, he says, his stories have tended to include bittersweet humor.

What flash fiction writers write about and why, are two of several issues examined in recent email interviews with Mathewson and two other writers.   Jim McCormick of Nevada says he likes to let a story or idea sit overnight to give him a fresh perspective.  Madeline Mora-Summonte, a Florida FF writer, says she never knows where a story idea will come from.

“In On Writing, Stephen King says he believes ‘…stories are found things, like fossils in the ground.’ That’s what it feels like for me,” says Mora-Summonte.  “I just never know what’s going to strike me–a news story, an overheard conversation, a stack of old postcards–and make me start digging for the whole story.”

“The sources of many of my FF pieces are rooted in past experience,” says McCormick, a retired art professor.  “It may be an old pet peeve like accordions,” he says alluding to one of his a recent stories.  “I took lessons on that dreaded instrument of destruction in my early teens, and have never recovered from them.”

Funerals are another topic for McCormick’s humorous, macabre (or both) stories,  related he says, to his long association with a funeral consumers alliance.

Flash fiction topics sometimes come from feelings, says Mathewson.  “You write about what you’re thinking about, what you’re feeling, what you’re doing.

“A lot of times I will write about something going on in my head that I have to resolve.  I have to decide how I feel about it.”

Humor as a purpose or device characterizes many of McCormick’s and Mathewson’s worksMathewson’s The New Job is a good example.  His work includes both first- and third-person stories.

The New Job

by Doug Mathewson

Everybody had photos in the cubicles of loved ones, pets, and friends.
Having none of the above I cut out an old magazine picture of Courtney Love and put it in a cheap frame. She looked great in this smokey live concert shot. Her hair whacked-out, lipstick badly smeared, cigarette upthrust like FDR, and mayhem in her eyes. She had ripped the broken-strapped tacky sequin bra far from one shoulder, slick with sweat her bare breast exposed, nipple defiant.

The department supervisor made his courtesy visit, saw the photo, and conversationally inquired, “So, ah… is that the Mrs.?”

An elderly protagonist’s third-person point of view has been a feature in some of Mora-Summonte’s recent work.  “Many people have told me that my best characters are older folks or children,” she says.

Older people and children, “are more on the outside looking in,” she says, “and to me, the outsider’s point of view–however you want to define outsider–is usually the most interesting.”

In addition to point of view, other traditional elements of fiction generally apply to flash fiction.  For example, Mathewson believes a story, no matter how short, should have a beginning, a middle and an end.  Mora-Summonte says she likes her stories to have a sense of those elements plus other features of fiction.

“I might choose the element I think is most important to the story,” she says, “the one that will get center stage–the setting? the protagonist?– but I try not to sacrifice any of them.”

And how does a flash fiction writer know when her or his story is finished?

“I know it when I feel I am straining for something more to say,” McCormick says. “When a piece seems tired to me, increasingly lacks punch. Time to get out.”

———-

Hyperlinks to stories.  In some of the links below you will need to scroll down to find the stories.

Doug Mathewson

Planet Betty, The New World

Smartest Man on Earth

Jim McCormick

Reliquary

Moma

Madeline Mora-Summonte

Delicates

Back Roads