Questa Non E' Una Canzone d'Amore - Alessandro Robecchi

 

I have a brilliant idea: why doesn't someone write a crime novel? Maybe with a caustically ironic main character, throwing in a bit of police incompetence, with a hint of political subterfuge to add to the mix. 

Yes, what a novel idea. Which is exactly what Robecchi must have thought (and, sadly, exactly what editors and readers alike have thought, given the number of sequels that this book has spurred). 

The author appears to be in love with himself, his own sense of humour, and his imaginative metaphors. Much like most authors of books entirely made up of 4-page chapters. Too bad I don't even begin to consider them remotely and/or potentially serious or respectable.