Customer Reviews

Aurelio Zen: Blood Rain (Aurelio Zen 07)

5 star:		(11)
4 star:		(25)
3 star:		(13)
2 star:		(8)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

The latest in the Aurelio Zen mysteries is a welcome addition to Dibdin's genre of 'whodunnit' Italian travel writing, and as usual the sense of place and atmosphere is richly evocative. It is predominantly set in Sicily, and, as one would expect, it is filled with the intricacies of local mafia politics, although these are refreshingly unglamourized.

Dibdin moves with great flair between the humourously mundane and the starkly horrifying. In this regard I was particularly taken with the crime that initiates the story, in which the the remains of a man who has been slowly baked to death after being shut in an abandoned railway truck cannot be identified because of the undecipherable accompanying note, which could either indicate a member of the "Limina" clan, or that the carriage's decomposed goods were once lemons.

The book's plotting is intricate and devious, but the glimpses into the character of the enignmatic Inspector are just as facinating. In this sense "Blood Rain" is one of the darkest of the "Zen" novels, being far removed from the light comedy of "Cosi Fan Tutti". Zen is at his most haunted and anxious here, as he is confronted by a series of disasters in his increasingly barren personal life.

This novel does have some weaknesses. Dibdin's commentaries on Italian history can be annoyingly pedagogic, and his explanatations of regional characteristics could easily seem patronising to those described. Furthermore, Zen's encounter with some drunken English football fans later on in the novel struck me as a rather contrived insertion into an otherwise fluent narrative. These flaws are quickly forgotten, however, in the enjoyment of Dibdin's prose and the development of his endearingly quirky and fallible protagonist.

Right - it was the TV adaptation that brought Zen to my attention. The Kindle sample chapter of Ratking was readable enough, and before I had a chance to do anything else, I was lent this audio version of a book part way through the series. I'm not sure if I'd happened upon this as my first experience that I would go any further. I just can't take Michael Kitchen's style (although he is totally amiable as an actor). Its-----too----precise. Like someone confidently making a speech on a boat that suddenly gets hit by the waves, his voice is prone to rolling --in--precisely--counted----intervals-which-suddenly-change-in--length--but--stay--in--control. The Italian pronunciation is "correct" (as far as I can judge), it just lacks passion or deliberate careful lack of passion (as per Rufus Sewell's characterisation). I just feel I want to read the books and discover my own interpretation- I just can't get used to Mr Kitchen's.

Michael Kitchen reads this complete, unabridged Aurelio Zen audio CD novel (by bestselling author Michael Dibdin). Inspector Zen has finally received the order he has been fearing all his working life: his next posting is to Sicily, home of the Mafia. The discovery of an unidentified male, left to die locked in a metal railway wagon on a disused siding marks the beginning of Zen's most difficult and dangerous case. The powerful Limoni Mafia family deny it's their missing son, and then things get even nastier as Zen investigates. It's all very atmospheric and even a bit surreal in places as Zen gets into an emotional turmoil. A great story, and I thought generally well read by one of my favourite actors, so 4*. I think I might have preferred to read the paperbook as I could read faster, or have a slightly abridged audio version, as the 8 hours on 8 audio CDs were a bit of a slog to get through - although it did rip easily to the iPod and I also enjoyed listening to it in the car.

I listened to "Blood Rain" on audio CD (8 to be precise), read by Michael Kitchen. It felt like Michael Kitchen took the first CD to warm up, his clipped English and occasional sighs being very off-putting and very out of place in that first CD. He seems a strange choice to read Aurelio Zen stories. However, after the first CD, his reading style felt better and the story flowed well. In fact, I would say that the story was very good - well written and interesting, with an unexpected turning point in the midst of the story. I found this intelligent but easy listening, and it had me gripped. And then ... the ending. What can I say? Well, after eight CDs, the last few seconds were hopeless - completely predictable (to the point of semaphored beforehand), disappointing after the good writing earlier on, not well read, and to cap it all for audio listeners - there was no silence at the end of CD 8 to digest the story before (in my car's CD player at least) the CD looped back to the beginning again and carried on playing. That last point may seem very minor, but it was annoying - I barely had time to think "was that it?" before my thought was interrupted by the start of the CD again. Twenty seconds of silence at the end is not a lot to ask for...

So, to summarise, eight CDs, first one not brilliantly read, but after that well read and with a good story, all capped off by a disappointing ending. I'd still recommend it (with caveats), but think it might be better in printed form than read by Michael Kitchen.

NB - Amazon have unhelpfully included the reviews of the printed book and the unabridged 8CD audio book adaptation on the same page. This review refers to the audio book.

Blood Rain sees Michael Dibdin's Aurelio Zen exiled to Sicily where he finds his promised promotion is in reality just a place to keep him out of sight. Despite the initial promise of an investigation in the murder of a prominent up and coming scion of a Mafia family in an abandoned train's cattle truck, it soon becomes apparent that no-one - not the police and especially not the suspected unidentified victim's family wants to investigate it, and for much of the novel that's true of Dibdin as well. Much of the first half of the novel occupies itself with Zen's new surroundings and with his adopted daughter, who's own career in law enforcement seems to come down to fending off the amorous advances of her superiors and finding herself the apple of a female judge's eye. The mystery is forgotten for much of the book as Dibdin briefly essays the inertia the bureaucracy and competing departments in the police create inbetween pen portraits of people and places, sometimes getting carried away with a cabbie's chatter or a judge's lengthy account of her mother's unhappy marriage that's longer than many a short story, at others showing off his research by awkwardly inserting historical and geographical references into casual conversation. Dibdin even breaks off a shooting to describe the history of a forgotten olive tree planted to commemorate one of Garalbaldi's victories that gets destroyed. But then this is not a book driven by plot as much as it is by futile gestures and family ties, both oppressive and deluded: everything is related, so nothing can ever be done for fear of how it will affect someone else - even passing on a package creates a slew of moral quandaries and possible disastrous consequences that can only be avoided by finding a way to avoid passing it on without the intended recipient ever finding out there ever was a package.

The result is more of a sporadically interesting drama than a compulsive thriller, and one where the people and the place leave you with more of an impression than the story, though even in that respect it's not entirely successful. It's the kind of book where all too often everything is spelled in detail, even if that requires an experienced detective to suddenly become remarkably naive to give the author licence to do so, and where the characters may tell you - at length - the story of their lives but perversely never come to life. Unfortunately the unabridged audio book adaptation tends to constantly draw you out of the book because Michael Kitchen's delivery is so often quite horrendously distracting: it's not so much a reading as dictation, with place names all but underlined and every other word over-emphasised and almost treated as if it had no relation to those on either side, broken up further by odd pauses that break up the rhythm of a line as if the priority was to get his secretary to avoid making any spelling mistakes in a letter to the local council. You do eventually get used to the odd cadences, but it seems unfortunate gimmick casting - hire a TV copper to read a literary one - that in this case works against the book. Definitely one case where you're better off getting the printed version.

Before I get into saying a few words about the novel itself, I want to point out that for me one of the aspects that made this audiobook so enjoyable to listen to is the narrator. His clear diction and subtle characterisation is so charming when needed and quite incisive in the more thriller-ish sections of the book, that it added an extra dimension and a joy to listen to.

The story itself is intriguing enough to keep you interested throughout. Also from beginning to end, the author uses such apt metaphors and description of the Sicilian atmosphere and the hot summer climate adds an extra dimension which I found compelling. There were a couple of occasions however when it felt long winded in detail and got lost in some "scenes" almost as if pointless to the plot, but I think if yon just go with those passages, you do find yourself absorbed into the drama. I won't say annoying about the plot because there is plenty of that already in the various synopses.

I had never heard of Zen until I watched the recent series with Rufus Sewell on TV. I got this expecting `more' of the same quirky story's with a laid back twist.

This you get, up to a point. Michael Kitchen is very good, but he's louder and clearer and I found that slightly disconcerting after Sewell. Also this Zen seems a much older man, and it didn't quite work for me that way. The story line is certainly convoluted with many 'red herrings' and ends with a bang so from that point of view, no change there then but, I found that overall I was disappointed.

I realise that it's perhaps slightly unfair to measure a book, audio even, against a television production and, perhaps if I'd read the book(s) first the feeling of something is missing wouldn't have been as strong.

This Audio book has to be aimed at the collectors market or those prepared to set aside a huge amount of time to listen and concentrate on the book being read. I cannot fault Michael Kitchen an actor I have rated highly for the past 40 years. He reads and narrates expertly but my only reservation is the number of hours required to hear the entire book. It is a lengthy commitment.Presentation wise I like the idea of a box with storage like for computer discs which takes up a smaller amount of shelf space. Price wise good value.

I've always been a bit sniffy about audiobooks: unless the listener suffers from poor/no eyesight, then what's the point in them? To the average buyer I would pose the question: `Why don't you just read the book, it's GOT to be more enjoyable!' To which they usually say: `Oh, I can listen to it while in the car, or while I'm jogging', or other variations on these themes. This has always baffled me because, if they're driving and feel like throttling a fellow road user every two minutes, how can they possibly concentrate on a complex plot, or fully appreciate a finely nuanced character? My assertion is simple: they can't.

Anyway, rant over for now. Let me begin my actual review by saying that I'm a big fan of good crime fiction and I've read and enjoyed quite a few of Mr. Dibdin's books previously - including this one. The series as a whole is tautly written, with Mr. Dibdin not feeling the need to produce 500+ page books just because the market demands it. Each novel effortlessly serves-up its fair share of surprises and is exactly the length it needs to be. As a (top-class) writer he brings various Italian cities, islands and general locations vividly to life, revealing their seamier undersides; this is a main strength of his.

`Blood Rain' is a middling (in terms of quality) and a mid-period Zen novel which is perhaps lighter in tone than the darker, earlier books in the series. Zen is sent to Sicily on a liaison job, and a woman who may be his daughter is also there. Naturally Dibdin develops both of these plot strands - and others - thoroughly to produce a satisfying tale.

This audiobook provides a thankfully unabridged rendering of the novel, which means no adapter has over-simplified the text, or at worst, completely butchered it. And I have to admit, that at just over a tenner for 8 CDs, the package provides superb value for money.

That fine actor Michael Kitchen gives an excellent, characterful reading; he's always worth listening to and he brings the prose to life. But would it not have been better to have had a reader with a natural Italian accent to bring more flavour?

I'm afraid my marking for this product must reflect my prejudices: I preferred the print version as I like to imagine the narrator's voice in my own head. However, if you like audiobooks (and fair play to you if you do), then I can seriously recommend this to you, and you can add an extra star to my mark.

Recently I have found a series of new writers that were unknown to me. I understand the number of books offered on a given day is enormous, but those worth the time it takes to read them are comparatively few.

Some book jackets compare one author to another, as was the case here. I had never heard of Mr. Dibdin or this series of Aurelio Zen mysteries, and if you haven't either, something special by a gifted author awaits your attention.

If you enjoyed the late Mario Puzzo's Sicily, this particular installment, "Blood Rain", is for you. Very little is as it appears the first, second, or third time you read it during this story. Mr. Dibdin has the ability to sustain the uncertainty of the tale's direction and outcome until you literally are at the final page. What you feel you have learned even at that point is still open to question. None of this is done so as to be cliché; no surprise lurks around a corner. One of the skills Mr. Dibdin is so good at is knocking you off your chair when there is absolutely no reason to expect it. The brilliant part is, even though he surprises you, he has laid the basis for his moment, and still you really are stunned. I know it sounds trite, but you will not see the event coming. You may find yourself flipping back a few pages thinking you missed a clue, but don't bother looking; you missed nothing, no pages stuck together. The Author manipulates his readers with subtlety and perhaps a bit of guile.

One other element I enjoyed was the length. The book can be comfortably read in a sitting for it is only as long as it needs to be. Mr. Dibdin does not feel the need to produce 600 pages when 272 will do. He needed 272, no more or less, and you are rewarded for it.

The other 2 ways to find these new writers, you can follow the links of what others have bought on Amazon; you will turn up new authors faster than you may think. The other alternative is to get down on the floor of a bookstore, your face nearly on the carpet. There, if you are lucky you will find these wonderful books. In more ways than one they are holding up many "marquee authors" that are on the top shelves, as foundations are the strength of any sound structure. On the top shelf does not mean top shelf quality. I don't mean to be pretentious; it is just that I am tired of plowing through, clicking through, around and around the latest book with an initial run of millions of copies, to find someone or something new.

Read Mr. Dibdin you will not be disappointed.