Donna Leon's engaging books have been the cheapest way to travel to Italy for quite some time -- and her legion of admirers know that the Venice of her protagonist Commissario Brunetti is a wonderful destination for the crime fiction lover. Leon, an American expat who now lives in la Serenissima (with such luminaries as opera singer Cecilia Bartoli as one of her friends) has gone native - in no uncertain terms. Her knowledge of Brunetti's water-logged beat is transmuted into vivid and evocative narratives: the Grand Canal and the Rialto Bridge are often the dark passageways to another, darker Italy, where hidden (and not-so-hidden) corruption - in politics and daily life - is very much an everyday thing (as headlines in the papers - not just in Donna Leon's books -remind us on a daily basis).

The Girl of his Dreams demonstrates how much life is left in the Leon/Brunetti criminal world. A child's body is found floating near some steps on the Grand Canal - it is that of a dead girl. But there have been no reports of missing children -- and the search for the identity of the youthful victim and her family takes Brunetti to many varied destinations, including a Gypsy encampment on the mainland, and (eventually), he turns up some very nasty secrets. As ever, it's not just the villains who thwart Brunetti at every turn - it's the venality and clandestine nature of the establishment that hampers him, almost as a matter of course.

This is Leon on effortless form - Brunetti fans need not hesitate. --Barry Forshaw

2008-05-11 Local Color . . And Little Else of Interest

Before writing my review, I waited two days after reading The Girl of His Dreams to see if I liked the book any better after sleeping on it. I didn't. Sorry, Ms. Leon. This one's a clunker. Why? Of two cases, only one is interesting. And the investigation of the interesting one isn't very stimulating. This book will only appeal to those who enjoy thinking about the injustices that victims experience.

As the book opens, crime seems to have taken a holiday in Venice and Commissario Guido Brunetti has plenty of time to investigate a mysterious preacher who is looking for big donations on the behalf of a priest he barely knows. Naturally, there's no crime to pin down, but Brunetti decides to look around anyway.

Before the preacher's background and motives can be understood, Brunetti has to deal with a most unpleasant duty . . . pulling a dead girl from the water. Here's where the local color comes in. The girl is a Gypsy (the P.C. term is Rom), part of a family that steals for a living. As you can imagine, Gypsies aren't interested in telling their troubles to the police.

How will Brunetti find out what happened to the girl? That's the real mystery of this book. A lot of the leads turn out to be misleading which provides a few mild surprises.

Once again, you'll learn that the police aren't able to do very much about crime, those in the establishment who complain often have things to hide, and the poor aren't as bad as everyone else thinks. The explication of those points is, however, not very interesting compared to other books in this series.

Did I need to read this book to remain a fan of this series? Not really. You have the option to pass on this one.