Michael Dibdin: Back to Bologna

Has Aurelio Zen lost his zest? When Dibdin almost killed him off two books back, you had to wonder whether his creator had lost interest.

But here he is, back not solving crimes — and a shadow of his former self.

Zen is still recovering from the injuries sustained on a bridge in Sicily after the Mafia tried to blow him up. He's depressed, on sick leave and is conducting a desultory relationship. All of which makes him sound like countless other past-their-use-by-date detectives of the genre.

But only Dibdin could introduce a murder in which the weapon is a parmesan knife. The dead man is an unsympathetic victim: a much-hated millionaire who owns the local football club.

Zen is brought back from his mooching about to liaise between police and the Interior Ministry. In other words, he's told not to solve any crimes. For this position he seems the perfect man for the job.

Which is just as well because there is not much sleuthing going on. What there is going on is pretty much satire.

There's a famous telly chef who is engaged in a libel spat with a pompous professor of semiotics over whether or not said chef can cook. The resolution of which is a televised cook-off, which has been rigged so that the chef wins. In fact, he can't even boil the water for pasta and this deteriorates into utter farce.

This is bonkers, but it's pretty much what you might expect from a book which starts with a murder by cheese knife.

The result is chaotic, not classic Dibdin — but it is a jolly, laugh-aloud romp despite Zen's glooming about the edges of the plot.

* Michele Hewitson is a Herald feature writer
* Faber and Faber, $35