Customer Reviews

The Last Castrato

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Set in Florence, Italy, THE LAST CASTRATO is a crime novel with a difference. It concerns the experiences of Cordelia Sinclair, a thirty-two year old graduate student in music from Northwestern University in Chicago, who goes to Italy to research a PhD thesis on early opera and, more importantly, to define a new role for her life after a bad marriage. Hill's knowledge of renaissance music and the cult of the castrati is wonderful (he's an English professor in Canada) and it provides the perfect fodder for a plot. THE LAST CASTRATO is an excellent gripping read as well as being -- and this is rare in the genre -- an intellectually stimulating novel that is elegantly written. I look forward to Hill's next novel with real enthusiasm. THE LAST CASTRATO IS HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.

This is my favorite type of book: a good, solid mystery; set in a beautiful city (Florence); interesting and well-developed characters that you really like; with many allusions to the art world. In short, this book has it all for anyone interested in an absorbing read that has interesting sub-plots. Also in its favor is the fact that all the characters start out in their own seemingly unrelated worlds. But Hill eventually brings them all together in a captivating climax. For lovers of Pears' and Jane Langton's mysteries: get this one and his other Carlo Arbati NOW!

I haven't read this book yet, but others might also wish to see the more complete collection of mostly more favorable reviews of the hardcover edition. Or you could take the author's invitation and get a 3-chapter sample free on his website.

I don't know him, but wouldn't want a single opinion to make me miss a good read -- if this is one.

If an author sets his story in one of the most colorful cities in the world, the descriptions had better breathe more than the stale air of guidebooks. And if the author wants his heroine to struggle with the feminine mystique and religious faith, then he's going to show the character development through more than long, long paragraphs of maundering musings. And if the author wants his sensitive Italian detective to be sensitive and Italian, he's going to have to write dialogue without the strong flavor of, perhaps, New Jersey. The saving point of The Last Castrato is its author's ambition.

Although I've not yet finished "Last Castrato", I've read enough to bemoan the author's lack of originality in his characters. The chief policemen are obviously based on P.D. James' Adam Dalgleish and on Detective Columbo, right down to the 'cast in his eye,' which, in Peter Falk's case, is an actual artificial eye. The punctuation is quirky, a pet peeve of mine, and the overwritten, arcane adjectives make me imagine the author as a repressed Victorian spinster, something like the owner of the pensione where our heroine lives.

In spite of those flaws, I persist because of my fondness for the city of Florence, and the similarity of some of Cordelia's reactions to my own. Besides, how could a novel that features Firenze, opera, Italian food and murder most foul be all bad?

This book is excellent. It's complex and literate. If you are looking for mindless entertainment skip it. I wish there were more Detective Arbati mysteries out there. Also recommended, Madeline Nabb, Carlo Lucarelli, Donna Leon, and Barbara Nadel.

Hey, I enjoyed the book,OK. It bothered me that there was no explanation of the use of the names of real persons for several characters. All right, they're long dead, so probably don't care. Still it seemed there should be a forward, afterward or something. I stumbled onto this book after seeing the movie"Farinelli", so was aware of the significance of the name of the most famous castrato of them all.And it was pretty clever having a guy named Broschi show up to kill off the bad guy. Farinelli was the stage name of Carlo Broschi. Recognizing the names of the old castrati, along with the book's title pretty much took all the mystery out of the story. Still, it would have been nice if the old guys got a little recognition at the end of the book

The story is pretty good but unfortunately it becomes to obvious early on who commited the murders. The writing style is by someone who tries to be too eloquent (he's a Professor of English) and it did not match the genre of the book. Crime stories are meant to be entertaining and free flowing. His style would be well suited for a piece about Florence and the Medici and not set in modern day life. But a pretty good book none the less.

This is a fun and well-written mystery, but it was also aggravating to read. The topic and setting are ones that would attract an audience that is more educated and has probably been to Florence - and probably saw it on foot rather than in a tourist bus. But most of the details about Italy and Florence that the author sprinkles in are dead wrong.

You'll find an Italian police officer who has left his pot of coffee on the hot plate all day (don't Italians drink espresso?), and you'll find a library strangely like the Cotton library where the staff deliver rare books to readers' desks when they aren't there (this only happens in Commonwealth and US libraries - in continental libraries, you have to pick up the books yourself, especially rare books, where you have to exchange your ID for it). The number of churches in Florence is mistallied, and the layout of the city is completely wrong on all but one occasion.

At first, these errors made me laugh, but as they mounted, I got more and more frustrated and they detracted from the story. Because of their plethora, I kept hoping for some post-modern denouement where the unreality of the situation becomes key to the plot, but that never happened and the book left me very disappointed. And I think a little more basic research on the author's part (to bring him up to the level of his intended audience) would have improved the book tremendously.

The plot of this novel is very promising-a serial killer, a castrati, but the continual philosophizing of the characters stalls the pacing. No sense of place is created, no feeling of Florence, Italy and I've been there. The author resorts to cliches ( to hell in a handbasket was used twice). Is that an Italian cliche? If the novel was supposed to be a police procedural, it missed the mark; I got the idea that Abati and his partner made up most of the police ranks and there wasn't much procedure. And the meandering through philosophies just got to be much. A good plot line not handled very adroitly. Try Donna Leon's Venetian policemen; he's good without pointless pilosophical wanderings.