Capo di Ponte in the northern Italian region of Emilia Romagna draws in sweltering heat a funeral procession through the village. None of it can take, the year’s 84-to prove Pietro Caramaschi their last respects. Topping the convoy by the mayor, closely followed by Pietro loyal comrades, the veterans of the Red Brigade. On the edge is village priest Don Lino, who as a black rock the natural enemy and horror of Communists and partisans Pietro was (a distinct literary allusion to Giovannino Guareschi, Don Camillo novels, which are located in the same region).
The ceremony offers everything that can be offered to pomp, especially one of six white horses-drawn hearse; while Pietro was but a poor man who always traveled with his handcart through the streets. Silence reigns in the village; Only the brass band is to hear her starts sounding “My Way”.
The overweight mailman Nello Ruini wants to see a letter, as stretched him out of the broken rusty metal box a hand out.
This can sometimes happen, but at this the rest of the body is missing. Operated immediately Nello the horn of his motorino , and a moment later he is surrounded by more than thirty residents. Before you call the carabinieri , is of course trying to work it out themselves. So how’s ausieht has Giuseppe Davoli, the homeless man sleeping in the empty, dilapidated house with mailbox to do with the matter. For most of his life has spent the poorest in orphanages and asylums.
However, he is currently not on site, but resides temporarily in a social therapy facility for people who run too far off track. After all, the police officers are still summoned. Comandante Giorgio Boskovic and Brigadiere Rizzitano reach the crime scene, where now is a kind of street party in full swing.
Herrlich, this excerpt! I feel beamed into my favorite travel destination Italy. Many of the known stereotypes correspond so well to reality: In the lonely villages the old life left behind by their children who are looking for work in the city and the modern zeitgeist. The area of the Bassa reggiana is flat, uniform and monotonous. The time has stopped, and it actually turns a mood, as reflected in all of us familiar old films of Don Camillo .
The title of the novel ” the left hand of the devil “draws the reader directly to our village idiot Giuseppe Davoli, called” Dievel “. It is appended some bad luck, but with the severed hand this poor soul has determined to do nothing. But still determined superstition the actions of the old people and they are afraid of the curse ” Cat vegna un cancher! ” ( “you wish I to the neck! Cancer”)
an exciting thriller delicious as tomato red pasta all’arrabiata : sharp and burning like the sun, and fatta in casa – that is homemade in the real, original Italian!