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COUNT LUNA is the story of Alexander Jessiersky, an Austrian aristocrat who presides over a Viennese transport company. As World War II opens, Jessiersky, who detests the Nazis, is asked by his board of directors to acquiesce in the confiscation of a neighboring parcel of land in order to accommodate expanded war business. Jessiersky refuses to go along, but because of inattention or laziness his board carries out the land seizure behind his back. The owner, a certain Count Luna, is sent to a concentration camp on a trumped up charge. When Jessiersky discovers the deed, he is enraged. But his efforts to free Luna are in vain. Years later at the end of the war, Jessiersky is convinced that Luna has survived his ordeal and is seeking vengeance. With one mysterious event succeeding another, Jessiersky begins to sink into an obsessive, murderous paranoia over Luna. It is an obsession that finally ends years later in the labyrinthine catacombs of Rome...
239 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1955
The structure of the Roman catacombs is in itself very simple. It consists of narrow passages, the lateral walls of which are lined with several tiers of hollow niches, one above another, designed to receive the bodies. Tablets of marble or terra cotta, bearing inscriptions, close up the niches. But with more and more dead to be interred, more and more passages had to be excavated, and thus there came into being those many-storied, labyrinthine structures…
Just as the moon was supposed to influence the weather, so Luna undoubtedly had an influence upon the climate of events! And there must be times, so Jessiersky came to feel, when Luna’s command over the forces which enabled him to deceive, to inflict harm, perhaps even to kill, was greater than usual, and times when he was practically powerless.
The countless motorcycles, in particular, made him feel as though he were surrounded with a buzzing swarm of unearthly insects. The people on the motorcycles, ostensibly quite harmless businessmen, engineers, and workmen, were like spies in disguise who kept circling about him.
He lived entirely in a world of his own, though what kind of a world it was, no one – probably not even he himself – really knew.A description of the protagonist that also applies to the book as a whole. I don't know what kind of a book it was, even though I read it avidly and immediately went back and reread the beginning as soon as I'd finished the ending.