¿Qué será lo más difícil que hay al escribir una serie de libros? ¿Mantener el tono? ¿Innovar sin perder el estilo? ¿Conservar la frescura? Quizá una mezcla de los tres. O sea, se requiere ser uno mismo pero, al mismo tiempo, sin fastidiar al lector, sin darle fórmulas, sin escribir lo que pareciera ser un texto hecho con molde. Dicho de otro modo, se requiere escribir cada libro como si fuera el primero, pero sin los errores del primero —inevitables—. Escribir cada libro con toda la atención posible al detalle y, a la par, con la convicción de que ese texto, y no el resto, es el que de momento importa poner en la mira del lector, que espera más de lo mismo pero sin que sea así, tal cual, más de lo mismo. Y eso, con pena, es lo que no termina de suceder en Un giro decisivo.Ante todo, deseo que no se me malinterprete. Como de costumbre, Camilleri hila fino y teje una buena historia, entretenida y ágil. Sin embargo, es esta una historia que más parecería haber salido de las manos de Raymond Chandler —pero sin los chispazos de Chandler— dada la enorme cantidad de azar que involucra —ya lo sabe: si va a comprarlo, deje de leer en este instante—. Porque no es lo mismo poner al personaje a trabajar en un caso —en el caso que de momento le ocupa—, que hacer que ese mismo caso comience a relacionarse con el resto de los problemas existenciales del protagonista, tengan o no que ver —aparentemente— con el caso que resuelve. No es Salvo Montalbano: es Philip Marlowe diciéndole a un desconocido «usted se llama Weepy Moyer» sin razón aparente, por pura puntada, para luego descubrir que, en efecto, el desconocido era Weepy Moyer, que no andaba muerto sino, literalmente, de parranda. Tarán, asunto resuelto.Más o menos por ahí marcha Un giro decisivo. Camilleri hace intervenir al azar y le confiere una importancia capital en la resolución del caso, —lo que constituye una infracción al tono general de sus novelas. No obstante, llega un momento en el que parece darse cuenta de lo que ha hecho y, con el fin de resarcirse con el público, le receta una a una todas las fórmulas y todos los elementos claves de las novelas protagonizadas por el comisario Montalbano, desde la emotividad hasta sus complicaciones culinarias, lo que hace que la trama, aun cuando termine funcionando, parezca un tanto falsa. Parece, lo dicho, como hecha bajo molde, poco espontánea —incluso a sabiendas de que no hay literatura espontánea, ni mucho menos, sino literatura que crea un efecto de espontaneidad, parafraseando a Barthes—, necesitada de cumplir ciertos requerimientos y de poner sobre la mesa ciertos temas, pero con poca frescura. El resultado es una obra que, desde mi perspectiva, no termina de convencer, a pesar de que arranca una que otra sonrisa —o incluso hasta una carcajada— y que se deja leer sin dificultades. Desde mi punto de vista, es un punto bajo en la serie de Montalbano, sin importar que la trama sea impecable o incluso que aparezcan cosas novedosas —como la preocupación del comisario en torno a la edad y la disminución de sus facultades o la aparición de algún padecimiento más o menos grave—, dado que esas mismas novedades parecen puestas solo para cumplir, para cubrir el requisito, para tener la oportunidad de palomear la casilla donde dice «emotividad», «ironía» o «reflexiones sobre la condición humana». Parecería, a fin de cuentas, un libro hecho más por encargo que por gusto. Ojalá no sea el caso.
Rating: 4* of fiveThe Book ReportMontalbano, over fifty and not liking it One Little Bit, decides to take an early-morning, out-of-season swim...and runs smack-dab into a dead guy who's clearly been in the water for a long time. He improvises a tow rope out of his swimsuit for the poor bastard, and begins a long, tiring naked swim in the cold water to bring him to shore. He's exhausted and feeling very lightheaded after his exertions and collapses on the sand...where he is attacked and vilified by a crazy old couple from the North who're renting a neighbor's house, photographed au naturel by the paparazzi they've summoned, and generally made a figure of fun...fifty yards from his own home. Thus begins Montalbano's misadventure into the seamiest-yet part of Sicily's underbelly. The dead guy proves to be a murder victim, identified in an extremely surprising way by an extremely unexpected source; Montalbano's interference into an illegal-immigrant bust results in the death of a young child; and in the end, both are revealed to be major pieces in a puzzle that bedevils Italy, with its immense amounts of coastline and huge population of coastal islands, most among European nations: How can you prevent a flood-tide of economic migrants from sheltering the vilest, most despicable members of our species from profiting off the misery of their masses? True to life itself, the question is posed, the answer left unknown. But Montalbano, now, he solves his piece of the puzzle, and a few...not many, just a few...of the scumbags meet a just end.My Review: Well, in the sixth book of the series, there is a bit of sagging to report: A few promising threads are left dangling here, especially the whole North-vs-South cultural divide so present in every facet of Italian life. Camilleri fails to exploit some delightful possibilities, and I think that it's inevitable to do so in a long-for-him book crammed with major plot points and huge moral questions. Part of the charm of these books is their conciseness: seldom over 230pp in translation, they are models of taut storytelling. Then along comes a story like this one, replete with opportunities to explore Italy and Italianness, and it's too much for the format of the series. It's unwise to change formats mid-series, so some things will fall off the radar a little too quickly.Well, you still give the book four stars...what's that about, fanboy? asks a sarcastic member of the public. Not just about being a fanboy, though I admit that I am just that. It's about the layers of well-executed prose, conveying piece by piece the existence of and resolution to a problem previously hidden, in concert with a storyteller's greatest gift or lack: The ability to create, in a few deft verbal strokes, a sense of a character as a real person. The ability to evoke in the reader a new response to an old situation. The ability to bring a place to life using nothing more than a few lighting effects and your own sense of smell.These qualities, mes vieux, are amply on display in this book and deployed in service of a story that, even though it's resolved, isn't in any way over. And that should keep you awake nights.
What do You think about Rounding The Mark (2006)?
Montalbano is turning 50, seriously disillusioned about events involving the police and the government, thinking seriously about resigning. He goes for an evening swim to thrash away the bitterness and collides with the body of a drowned man. The pathologist thinks accidental drowning, no case. Later he sees a group of illegal immigrants being picked up - there is a boy who tries to get away, but Montalbano returns him - he thinks - to his mother. A couple of days later, the boy is killed in a hit and run accident, another non-case. These two non-cases continue to nag at Montalbano and he continues to pick at them until he slowly finds the thread that pulls them together. It is people trafficking at its worst, and he nearly kills himself cracking it open.Camilleri is such a master at blending comedy, tragedy and drama, and the translations are stellar. And I want to eat with Montalbano. Don't care if it is at home or a one of his favorite cafes - reading these books makes me hungry.
—Monica
This is the 7th Inspector Montalbano book and just as wonderfully written and plotted out as the previous six in the series. If you've been reading the books in order you'll be well acquainted with Salvo Montalbano by now and his intense behaviour in "Rounding the Mark" won't come as much of a surprise.Jacket notes: "Two seemingly unrelated deaths form the central mystery of Rounding the Mark. They will take Montalbano deep into a secret world of illicit trafficking in human lives, and the investigation will test the limits of his physical, psychological, and moral endurance. Disillusioned and no longer believing in the institution he serves, will he withdraw or delve deeper into his work?"Montalbano continues to be rude, mean, sarcastic, and overly grumpy in this book as in the others but this only endears him to me even more. He's always able to redeem himself with his strong moral and ethical values. I love reading Camilleri's books for these simple reasons: the plot flows smoothly, the characters are strong and real, and the conversation between these characters is real and believable.
—Monica
7th in the Inspector Montalbano series.[return][return]Just after the G8 meeting in Genoa, where the right-wing government of Berlusconi has at a minimum countenanced unprovoked and unjustified attacks by police on protesters, Montalbanois filled with disgust at what Italy has become in general and how the Genoan police have betrayed their mandate to serve and protect the people in particular. He is not sure whether or not he wants to continue in his profession; he seriously considers resigning.[return][return]In the midst of this angst, taking his usual swim, he accidentally and literally bumps into a corpse. (This scene deserves mention in that it is absolutely hilarious, a wonderful example of Camilleri s wit and sense of the ridiculous that so enlivens these books.) Examination of the body reveals that while the man died by drowning, he definitely had help in his passing.[return][return] In a separate and seemingly unrelated incident, a boat filled with illegal immigrants from Africa is rounded up by the Italian Coast Guard and herded into Vig
—Joyce Lagow
