Poisonville is a marvelous collaboration between two of Italy’s modern thrill-makers, author Massimo Carlotto and screenwriter Marco Videtta. I can just imagine the torturous bouts of fun and pain these two went through in writing this novel, urging each other on to dig deeper and deeper into the wells of deception, seduction, corruption, and betrayal. They came up with poisonous brew of noir, mystery, and romance, a gripping novel that packs a punch, moving past the noir genre to hit hard not only in the gut, but also in the heart.
I loved the puzzle of the book, its tangled plot involving manipulative sex, deep-rooted corruption, malicious deceit, and false honor, and dark secrets of long-ago double-dealings and extra-marital seductions, of assumed status and of a long-held respect. The pieces of the puzzle swirl around and around, settling into place and then — boom! — they become all shaken up like the glass particles in a kaleidoscope, and suddenly everything looks different, all over again. But what is so wonderful — so very satisfying — about Carlotto and Videtta is that by the end of the wild ride that is their novel, everything is explained, there are no loose ends, the thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle is put together and laid out for viewing. The pleasure of seeing it all come together is matched only by the excitement of trying to keep up with the fast spin of the plot as it revolves around and around, narrowing in on its focus and its completion.
The characters of Poisonville are also wonderful, complex and rich with layers that hide more layers beneath: for some characters, all the layers are dirty, stained, ugly; for others, the layers alternate, goodness hides weakness, anger hides fear, power hides desperation. Not one single character has layers all shiny white, pure and good: instead the people in Poisonville are achingly human, sometimes sly, sometimes vicious, clinging to status or religion or their own sanity, and knocking away anyone who threatens their identity or place in the world. They are also love-addled, either deprived or supra-sated, sadly impotent or brutally hard, but needy — even desperate — underneath it all.
The landscape of the novel is the northeast corner of Italy, a land portrayed by Carlotto and Videtta as once rich with farms and healthy industry, now compacted into pollution-spewing industrial parks, abandoned lands, rough-edged towns, and spaces of security and beauty that are an illusion, resting as they do on the bones of corruption, waste, and abuse. The weather is heavy and unclean, with the darkness of rain or fog always overcoming moments of light, and it is cold, without mercy.
Together, the plot, characters, and landscape of Poisonville create a noir that is darker than dark, a mystery that asks multiplying questions, and a romance that offers many loves, every one of them doomed.
