Michael Schmicker's Blog - Posts Tagged "masks"
MASKED MURDER (Book Review)
Venice didn’t invent the mask, but no society in history ever wore them more frequently.
In most societies, they’re merely worn for an evening masquerade, or a Mardi gras parade. In Venice, from the 1200s clear up until Napoleon conquered the Italian Republic in 1797, citizens of every class routinely spent three months (or more) in disguise, donning their Carnival masks the day after Christmas and sporting them until Shrove Tuesday and the start of Lent in early March – an understandable invitation to trouble. An anonymous populace could get involved in a lot of mischief in three months, from illicit sex and spying to assassination and murder.
What more could a writer wish for?
In her new, supernatural thriller “The Mascherari,” author Laura Rahme turns her imagination loose, inventing a delicious, dark tale of witchcraft, byzantine political intrigue, and bacchanalian mayhem played out between the feasts of Natale (Dec. 25) and Epiphany (Jan. 6).
It’s the winter solstice, 1422. Tuscan widower and retired crime investigator Antonio da Parma has just returned to Venice following the death of his wife. He’s been re-hired as an inquisitor by Almoro Donato and the secretive, Consiglio dei Dieci, a group of ten powerful men which oversees the Republic’s internal security, coinage and morality. Heading for the Ducal Palace, he comes across a wealthy masked merchant, Giacomo Contarini, and his aristocratic friends, roughing up an elderly Milanese mascheraro (mask maker) fallen behind on his loan. When da Parma tries to intervene, he’s dragged into an alley and beaten up himself. Two days later, Donato informs him the Signori di Notte (secret police) have discovered the cadavers of Contarini, three of his partners, and his daughter. Contarini appears to be an easily explainable murder; the other four deaths are more troubling, coincidentally odd, even bizarre. Donato hands da Parma the police file – quietly investigate, and report back to the nervous Council. Da Parma quickly discovers that Contarini on the morning he was murdered received a mysterious delivery of five, unordered but exquisitely-crafted Carnival masks. Who sent the phantasmagorical creations is unclear, but their magical workmanship was too exceptional and tempting to not wear them to a party that night.
Deadly mistake.
Rahme employs letters, diaries, journal entries and sworn testimonies to deliver the account of da Parma’s unsettling investigation and horrific discoveries, as various characters disclose their secrets, and the sinister, witching power of the masks is revealed.
Along the way, we’re educated about the sex life of medieval Venice. The Republic encouraged unmarried men to visit the bordellos in Carampane in order to discourage homosexuality (sodomy and cross-dressing merit capital punishment); puttana (prostitutes) wore yellow shawls, and flaunted their wares on the Ponte delle Tette (Bridge of Tits); some convents were de facto whorehouses, warehousing superfluous daughters discarded by their families – rebellious girls bereft of any religious vocation or interest in a celibate life.
Fifteenth-century Venetian cuisine pops up frequently, and sounds intriguing: leek and goat cheese pie; garlic and bean soup (whew!); pork and quail on skewers; eel pie, squid pie, Sarde in Saor (Rahme’s handy Glossary at the end of the book defines a half-dozen, different Carnival masks, but I had to Google this dish, which turns out to be sweet and sour sardines).
Historical curiosities constantly entertain: Parchment is slowly being replaced by paper – “a Mohammedan invention” denounced by the Church. The government kept prisoners in the “Wells,” a subterranean jail beneath the Doge’s palace, where they applied the euphemistic “Question” (were tortured). Fiore dei Liberi was the era’s reigning master of fencing (swordsmanship features large in the novel). Venetians used cinnamon mouthwash (bet you didn’t know that).
The author’s personal life is as exotic as her fiction. Rahme was born in Dakar, Senegal, of Lebanese, French and Vietnamese heritage; grew up speaking French; holds degrees in Psychology and Engineering (Aerospace Avionics); lives Down Under; idolizes Khalil Gibran; and set her first novel in early Ming China.
If you’re a book buyer looking for an entertaining tale, or a book blogger looking for an entertaining interview, you’ve just found it.
In most societies, they’re merely worn for an evening masquerade, or a Mardi gras parade. In Venice, from the 1200s clear up until Napoleon conquered the Italian Republic in 1797, citizens of every class routinely spent three months (or more) in disguise, donning their Carnival masks the day after Christmas and sporting them until Shrove Tuesday and the start of Lent in early March – an understandable invitation to trouble. An anonymous populace could get involved in a lot of mischief in three months, from illicit sex and spying to assassination and murder.
What more could a writer wish for?
In her new, supernatural thriller “The Mascherari,” author Laura Rahme turns her imagination loose, inventing a delicious, dark tale of witchcraft, byzantine political intrigue, and bacchanalian mayhem played out between the feasts of Natale (Dec. 25) and Epiphany (Jan. 6).
It’s the winter solstice, 1422. Tuscan widower and retired crime investigator Antonio da Parma has just returned to Venice following the death of his wife. He’s been re-hired as an inquisitor by Almoro Donato and the secretive, Consiglio dei Dieci, a group of ten powerful men which oversees the Republic’s internal security, coinage and morality. Heading for the Ducal Palace, he comes across a wealthy masked merchant, Giacomo Contarini, and his aristocratic friends, roughing up an elderly Milanese mascheraro (mask maker) fallen behind on his loan. When da Parma tries to intervene, he’s dragged into an alley and beaten up himself. Two days later, Donato informs him the Signori di Notte (secret police) have discovered the cadavers of Contarini, three of his partners, and his daughter. Contarini appears to be an easily explainable murder; the other four deaths are more troubling, coincidentally odd, even bizarre. Donato hands da Parma the police file – quietly investigate, and report back to the nervous Council. Da Parma quickly discovers that Contarini on the morning he was murdered received a mysterious delivery of five, unordered but exquisitely-crafted Carnival masks. Who sent the phantasmagorical creations is unclear, but their magical workmanship was too exceptional and tempting to not wear them to a party that night.
Deadly mistake.
Rahme employs letters, diaries, journal entries and sworn testimonies to deliver the account of da Parma’s unsettling investigation and horrific discoveries, as various characters disclose their secrets, and the sinister, witching power of the masks is revealed.
Along the way, we’re educated about the sex life of medieval Venice. The Republic encouraged unmarried men to visit the bordellos in Carampane in order to discourage homosexuality (sodomy and cross-dressing merit capital punishment); puttana (prostitutes) wore yellow shawls, and flaunted their wares on the Ponte delle Tette (Bridge of Tits); some convents were de facto whorehouses, warehousing superfluous daughters discarded by their families – rebellious girls bereft of any religious vocation or interest in a celibate life.
Fifteenth-century Venetian cuisine pops up frequently, and sounds intriguing: leek and goat cheese pie; garlic and bean soup (whew!); pork and quail on skewers; eel pie, squid pie, Sarde in Saor (Rahme’s handy Glossary at the end of the book defines a half-dozen, different Carnival masks, but I had to Google this dish, which turns out to be sweet and sour sardines).
Historical curiosities constantly entertain: Parchment is slowly being replaced by paper – “a Mohammedan invention” denounced by the Church. The government kept prisoners in the “Wells,” a subterranean jail beneath the Doge’s palace, where they applied the euphemistic “Question” (were tortured). Fiore dei Liberi was the era’s reigning master of fencing (swordsmanship features large in the novel). Venetians used cinnamon mouthwash (bet you didn’t know that).
The author’s personal life is as exotic as her fiction. Rahme was born in Dakar, Senegal, of Lebanese, French and Vietnamese heritage; grew up speaking French; holds degrees in Psychology and Engineering (Aerospace Avionics); lives Down Under; idolizes Khalil Gibran; and set her first novel in early Ming China.
If you’re a book buyer looking for an entertaining tale, or a book blogger looking for an entertaining interview, you’ve just found it.
