Thanks to the people who made a gorgeous day even more so. I sold a Little Feat CD to a repeat customer, a couple of children's books issued by Scholastic to a woman in charge of handicapped kids, and eight more mystery/thrillers to Grizzly Bear. And the same porter donated an entire bag of books on the paranormal by a woman named Sylvie. And Arlynn treated me to a couple of slices at Delmar while she chowed down on an eggplant parmigiana sandwich.
Among the porter's previous, huge donation was The Wings of the Sphinx by Andrea Camelleri (male, like Bocelli). I wasn't interested in reading another mystery. I looked at the back to see what it was about, in case someone asked. When I read that it took place in Sicily, I was hooked. It is the eleventh of 16 novels about a detective, Salvo Montalbano, in the fictional town of Vigata. It is standard fare distinguished by its humor, delivered chiefly by the incompetent desk officer, who the translator decided to give a sort of Brooklyn accent ("poissonally in poisson"). At first I thought it was totally bogus, despite the reputation of the government sector in Italy. It grew on me. Curiously, I've often described the Sicilian language to non-Italians as a sort of Brooklynese. I was also amused that the officers had to pay for gasoline once the monthly allotment was used up. I will pass the book on to my sister and oldest niece, who both lived in Sicily for many years.
Camilleri was born in 1925. He worked in Italian TV for many years. His first novel was published in 1978, and flopped commercially. His second did not come out until 14 years later, 1992. The Montalbano series began in 1994 and immediately caught on and has been adapted for RAI TV. The hero is typically European, fond of fine food and smoking. Ten million copies have sold. Mamma mia! Hai fatto bene, Signore Camilleri.
Read Vic's stories, free: http://vicfortezza.homestead.com/
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