I’m not quite sure what someone who’s not from
Turin would think of this book. Probably that it’s good, but it’s too long for
a detective story, probably that it’s funny, but the idea of a lethal granite
dildo may be a bit too stupid.
Coming from Turin, though, this book is
absolutely awesome. It paints a perfect picture of the place, a “town” of a
million people where the rich all know each other and live side by side on the
hills, physically looking down on the lives of the rest of the city and its
workers.
I always get a massive kick out of being
absolutely familiar with a book’s (or a movie’s) locations, and this book is obviously no exception – with the
added benefit that these locations aren’t ones I’ve discovered as a tourist or
as a grown-up, they are the streets and squares where I used to spend my
weekends as a teenager, or where I would have gone had I actually ever had the
guts to skip school.
I just wish I could realize which parts were
written by Fruttero and which ones by Lucentini...
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