Let the Games Begin

May 27, 2013
Sometimes warmhearted, sometimes shockingly offensive, and much of the rest of the time very funny, Ammaniti’s (I’m Not Scared) new novel is like a rich, delicious stew with a few pieces of spoiled meat included for good measure. Saverio Moneta is a Satanist whose sect, the Wilde Beasts of Abbadon, is in trouble after shrinking to just four members, including the plump Roberto Morsillo (nicknamed “Murder”) and “Zombie,” who has digestive problems. Silvia, the fourth member, joins up after escaping from being buried alive by the group. Saverio’s solution to their diminishing numbers is to concoct an ambitious plan involving Larita, a singer who recently had a religious conversion. Meanwhile, Fabrizio Ciba, a popular author, is having trouble writing the great novel he knows he’s capable of. When he and the Beasts meet at one of the most lavish parties modern Rome has ever seen, any number of things can happen—and they do. This book pulls off a rare feat: an action-packed but well-paced satire populated with characters rather than caricatures.

June 15, 2013
In contemporary Rome, a satanic caper implodes in this latest from the well-regarded Italian (Me and You, 2012, etc.). When is a satanic sect no longer a sect? When it's down to three losers and an uncharismatic leader. The Wilde Beasts of Abaddon would accept that harsh judgment. The four Romans are dejected and spiritless. Other disciples have quit. When they sacrificed a student and buried her alive, she dug her way out; then Silvietta became the girlfriend of Murder, another acolyte (Stockholm syndrome?). Their leader, Saverio, blames himself for their troubles. Henpecked by his wife, humiliated by his father-in-law (he manages his furniture store), he needs a release for his submerged hate. Then an opportunity arrives. The celebrity singer Larita, a convert to Christianity from Satanism, is the star attraction at an event where the Beasts will be moonlighting. They'll behead her with the sword Saverio's bought on eBay and then kill themselves. Their deliberations need a light touch which Ammaniti doesn't quite achieve. Nor is it helpful that he develops a parallel storyline about the best-selling novelist Fabrizio Ciba. An unappealing narcissist with writer's block, Fabrizio reflects Italian publishing's fierce infighting but adds little to the mix. The storylines converge at a spectacular event organized by Chiatti, a real estate mogul and avatar of relentless vulgarity. He has bought one of Rome's oldest parks to stage not just Larita's concert, but three separate hunts (fox, tiger and lion). The Beasts' silly scheme dissolves in squabbling over the suicide pact and, anyway, is overshadowed by the ruckus of the hunts. Fabrizio and Larita are thrown off an elephant; an art dealer is eaten by crocodiles; and in a surreal twist, defecting Soviet athletes and their subhuman spawn, living in the catacombs since the 1960 Rome Olympics, emerge to wreak havoc. A novel that veers out of control, obliterating its setup and dulling Ammaniti's admired edge as a satirist.

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