“Justice is a machine with neither heart nor intelligence: it acts as instructed.”
Pushkin Press‘s new Vertigo imprint suggests the reader “step inside a dizzying world of criminal masterminds,” and Piero Chiara’s crime novel, The Disappearance of Signora Giulia, certainly fits that rather ambitious description. This is the story of the disappearance of a married woman, and it’s a case which continues to haunt the man who leads the investigation. The Disappearance of Signora Giulia is definitely not a traditional detective novel, but it is intriguing.
It’s 1955. Commissario Corrado Sciancalepre is a talented policeman who’s “blessed with a special form of intuition, that particular mental agility that enables great policemen to delve into the minds of criminals.” He’s due for a promotion and yet he feels a tie with the small town of M, located in Northern Lombardy. He has a varied job: he’s an investigator, commissioner for public safety, and a counselor of sorts. The novel opens with Sciancalepre looking ahead to a golden future and with no idea that the case of his career is headed his way.
The case begins when Esengrini, the region’s “most agile and authoritative criminal lawyer,” a former mayor and chief magistrate “during the fascist period,” contacts Sciancalepre for assistance. It seems that Esengrini’s much younger wife, the very attractive Signora Giulia has disappeared. Giulia has a standing appointment every Thursday to travel by train to Milan to visit the couple’s daughter, Emilia, at boarding school. This Thursday is different. Her bedroom is a shambles, and it appears that suitcases, clothing and a substantial amount of jewelry are all missing. Esengrini has ascertained, from the gardener, that Giulia didn’t leave by the main gate, and he concludes that his wife has run off with another man. Esengrini had his suspicions that his wife was having an affair and that the weekly trip to Milan was just a cover for these assignations.
Sciancalepre’s investigation of “The Esengrini Affair,” initially yields plenty of clues–all leading to adultery and the theory that Guilia ran off with another man. Sciancalepre asks himself what he would have done in Esengrini’s shoes and concludes:
I’d have poisoned her, he mused, or shot her on the spot, at the right moment. No one could have argued that it wasn’t a crime of passion, and I could get off with a few years.
It appears that the case will remain unsolved. Years pass, and events in the small town of M, now involving Guilia’s daughter, stir the embers of the old, still unsolved case….
Here’s a long quote in which the now adult Emilia talks to Sciancalepre about her mother’s disappearance:
One evening she found Sciancalepre in that [train] compartment. They made the entire journey together, and for the first time, Emilia spoke about her mother. She’d realized by now that there was something strange about her mother’s disappearance, and she wished she knew what was in her father’s heart. But it was something she’d never been able to ask him because she felt intimidated–or perhaps because she understood it was something they must never discuss.
“It’s a mystery. A mystery!” said the Commissario. And he tried to get her to speak, asking what her father thought about it. “Did you read the papers?” he asked.
“Yes, I read then, but I don’t believe any of their speculations. In any case. as far as I’m concerned, my mother’s dead: I can feel it.”
Truth to tell, Sciancalepre also sensed it, but he didn’t want to think any more about the case. The folder, with all the notes and photographs of Signora Giulia, was still in his drawer. Formally, the case was still open, but the paper in the file was starting to yellow and surely some day soon one of his successors would send it to the archives. And Sciancalepre was expecting a promotion–which would mean a transfer.
The Disappearance of Signora Giulia is an unconventional, compelling crime novel. Like any great detective, Sciancalepre is haunted by a case he cannot solve, and yet he also knows that the mystery hasn’t vanished; it’s just festering there in the recesses of his mind. I was frustrated by the ending–as we’re probably meant to be, so I immediately reread it in order to try and ‘solve’ the mystery for myself. This is the second novel I’ve read from Pushkin Press‘s Vertigo line, and so far I’m very impressed. For those interested, Vertigo is also recommended for crime fans.
Finally, The Disappearance of Signora Giulia takes place in the mid-50s, and there are a few references to the social views of the times, so we see the Commissario telling Esengrini to launch a suit against Giulia for “abandoning the marital home.” Additionally, it seems as though it was possible to arrest someone for adultery.
Review copy. Translated by Jill Foulston
20 responses to “The Disappearance of Signora Giulia: Piero Chiara”
Pushkin seems to have launched a great new collection.
I’ve never heard of this book but it appeals to me.
Nice review. I actually enjoyed the ending – though, by the sounds of it, it was for similar reasons that you were frustrated. It was my first Pushkin Vertigo title, and I’m looking forward to reading more.
This does sound very good – I need to look out for Pushkin by the sounds of things.
Since you enjoy crime, then I’d say that this new line is one to watch
Shades of Montalbano. I’m very tempted by this.
The ending is quite different, Gert. Love to know what you make of it.
I’ve just read this, at a sitting, and liked it a lot. The ending appealed to me very much. It seemed to me all to turn around the quote you started with, “Justice is a machine with neither heart nor intelligence; it acts as instructed”, and the observations Chiara would have made while working in the court system. It isn’t as simple or as banal as saying true justice wasn’t achieved in this case. It’s as if, when human drama comes into the power of the justice system, the usual forces that animate human beings are replaced by manoeuvres that create a parallel universe in which what matters is how well the manoeuvres are carried out. In this case, very well!
I was frustrated by the ending but a second reading solved that. The idea of Justice as a machine occurred to me when I read the non fiction book about Whitey Bulger.
Like Gert, I thought of Montalbano as I was reading your review. It sounds very good – another interesting choice from Pushkin Vertigo.
Do you like Montalbano, Jacqui?
I do. I’ve read six or seven of them – they’re good for change of pace between heavier reads. Plus all those wonderful descriptions of Montalbano’s long, lazy lunches appeal to the foodie in me.
Those descriptions of meals are the best aspects of these books for me. How he manages to get through so much food at lunchtime and not have to take a nap immediately is a mystery though.
There seems to be such a proliferation of Italian detective fiction coming this way now. I’d never heard of this author, but I’m interested in looking into the new Vertigo imprint, and still immersed in the Italians, so this sounds like a good place to start.
I hope you enjoy it Scott. I came away with the idea that Italians do domestic crime fiction well.
This one’s for me. It sounds really great.
I’ll be interested to see what you think of it, Caroline. I just finished She Who was No More (made into the film Diaboliques)
At that period they’d have been pretty much using the Fascist legal system still I expect, so I wouldn’t be surprised if a woman could be arrested for adultery or sued for leaving her husband.
It sounds very good. David Hebblethwaite reviewed it too and I’d already decided on the strength of that to get this at some point. You definitely confirm that decision.
Pushkin Vertigo has made a very strong start.
I agree re: the strong start. I’m looking forward to seeing what other titles they pull out of the hat.
This and some of other titles are at such low prices for Kindle it’s impossible to resist.
New Vessel Press is publishing Piero Chiara’s best novel, The Bishop’s Bedroom, on November 1: http://newvesselpress.com/books/the-bishops-bedroom/ Would like to send you an advance review copy if you’ll write to email@example.com Thank you.