Last Voyage of the Valentina [Paperback]

The cover of this book promised a "dark mystery" that would sweep me from "war-torn Italy to aristocratic 1960s London." [1970s actually!] Since, however, the characters are unpleasant, the settings are charmless, and the situations are not only unlikely but also reminiscent of twice-viewed (and better-told) Italian films, I was swept off to sleep.

In turgid prose [The words "her strange eyes" recur at least four times], the author relates the story of Alba Arbuckle, who is constantly wriggling about in Mary Quant mini-skirts and flashing her knickers (or lack of them) at local vicars and anyone else who happens to enter her orbit. One day, after a steamy session of casual love-in-the-afternoon, Alba discovers a scroll under her bed [Where else?]. It is a pastel drawing of her long-dead mother, and it is inscribed by her father [in bad Latin: "dum spiro, ti amo"-- "Amo" takes the accusative "te" in Latin.]. This plot device sends Alba on a quest to discover the secret of her past (She should have stood in bed!).

As a lover of Italy, I was hoping that the flashbacks set in a mythical town "Incantellaria" on the Amalfi Coast, would be worth persuing. I was disappointed. We have olive and cypress trees, purple wisteria, noisy cicadas--pasta with "fish sauce," even (117), and the beauteous Valentina, who, of course, wears a semitransparent dress and walks like a duck: "her feet turning outward, she held her stomach in, pushed her bottom out, and swung her hips" (112). Valentina, Alba's mother, is identified by the scent of figs, making me wonder if the author has ever stood in a grove of fig trees, which give off a strong smell that recalls uric acid.

I suppose I should have been warned by the words "old-fashioned blockbuster" in the blurb on the back of the book, but I was seduced by "the olive groves of the Amalfi coast," an enchanted setting, which, now that I think about it, is noted not for its olives but for its lemons.

Limoncello, anyone?

I am not surprisingly, considering where I currently live, drawn to novels set in Italy. This turned out to be not as atmospheric as one might have hoped, but it was still a reasonable easy read for a sunny afternoon.

Romantic escapism set in England and Italy in the 1940's and the 1970's, the novel starts with a Prologue telling us about an honour murder committed at the end of WWII. This mystery behind this murder is finally solved in the 1970's when Alba, the young female protagonist of the story, goes to Italy seeking the truth about her heritage.
Her father Thomas Arbuckle had fallen in love with Valentina an Italian during WWII. After the war ended he returned to England with a babe in arms, Alba, but no Valentina as she is dead.
In the 1970's Alba is now a young woman who does not get on with her step-mother or step- siblings and hates country living. Thanks to her father's generosity and desire to keep her happy, whilst refusing to ever mention her birth mother she lives a selfish life full of fun on her father's houseboat in London. The only concession ever made to her Italian roots was encouraging her to learn Italian. As a young woman who has never met any of her mother's relatives, or even been to Italy, she yearns to learn more about her Italian roots.
It is the discovery of a portrait of her mother that finally makes Alba travel to Italy on a journey into the past which changes her future and her for ever.
Although I think I understand what the author was saying in the Epilogue, I still found the ending a disappointment. Not the ending I had hoped for or expected!

Romantic and improbable! When Alba took herself off to the Amalfi coast in an attempt to gain some knowledge of her dead mother, I hoped the author was going to transport me back there, so I could feel the essence of a place that I know quite well. Unfortunately it just didn't happen. Even the atmosphere of England in the 'Swinging Sixties' didn't seem to ring true (and I was there!). This is my first Santa Montefiore novel, I just hope that her others are better! OK for a beach read.