Book Thirty-Nine: The Patience of the Spider

Another Inspector Montalbano, lagging at the gate because I had to order it, since our library didn’t have it. Surprisingly, considering how recent it is, this copy was pretty thrashed, with softened, greasy pages and a worn cover. I think that people don’t treat detective novels with as much respect as they do other books, treating them more like throwaway conveniences than literature. Pity.

This novel was especially interesting because it’s one of the few that didn’t have some sort of current events slant. It was about a simple kidnapping, and it was actually fairly straightforward; I was kind of disappointed when I seized on the plot twist almost immediately, and I was able to pretty neatly predict the ending. I hate it when that happens while reading a detective novel. It feels like I’ve been cheated of something.

I still maintain that I loathe Livia. I don’t understand why the Inspector keeps running around with her. There are so many more excellent women that he could be dating, and in this book Camilleri stressed her dislike of food. As someone who is rather fond of food, I can’t fathom being in a relationship with someone who isn’t, let alone a dreadful cook. I tried it once and it didn’t work out very well.

There are a few books in Italian that haven’t been translated yet. I can’t help but hope that in one of them, Livia finally gets the boot. Maybe I should learn Italian to find out, just in case Sarterelli stops translating them for some reason.


The Patience of the Spider, by Andrea Camilleri. Translated by Stephen Sartarelli. Published 2007, 244 pages. Fiction.