Beneath the Mountain by Luca D’Andrea

Translated by Howard Curtis

Harper, 400 pages, $16.99 (c2016, U.S. Ed. 2018)

If there were an award for the book equivalent of the Olympics’ Giant Slalom race, “Beneath the Mountain” would win. There are more twists and turns in this book than there are serpent coils in the caduceus. How many authors does it take to screw in a light bulb? Only one, if that author is Luca D’Andrea.

“Beneath the Moon” was translated from Italian by Howard Curtis. Let me toss a massive number of kudos to Mr. Curtis, because the book read smoothly in English. The fact that the main character, Jeremiah Salinger, is supposedly Brooklyn born and raised ups the challenge to produce an authentic-sounding American. Italian author Luca D’Andrea can raise the flag on the summit of that challenge.

Despite being dizzy from completing D’Andrea’s novel, I think what appealed to me the most was not the twisty plotting but the deep shadings of his many characters.

Salinger and his wife and five-year-old daughter travel from the U.S. to Siebenhoch in the northeast part of Italy, an area more Deutsche than it is Italiano, for Salinger’s work. He and his American partner, Mike, almost by accident, are reality show developers. Their newest idea involves trailing the mountain rescue squad in the Siebenhoch area. This is where the father of Salinger’s wife, Annelise, lives. Because Salinger had a German immigrant mother, he speaks German. So everyone thinks of it almost like a vacation. Until tragedy strikes. Dum, dum, dum!

Mike is the videographer but he is unable to go on one of the rescue missions, so Salinger — not the bravest soul — fills in. The helicopter swoops and twirls to the rescue site. Salinger finds himself — you can see the thought balloon above his head: "What?!" — asking permission to make the descent into the crevasse to film the rescue of a wayward tourist who managed to jam herself into the crack. The mission does not end well, and Salinger finds himself dealing with the effects of PTSD and survivor’s guilt.

To take his mind off his physical and mental difficulties, Salinger becomes interested in a twenty-six-year old tragic tale that still resonates strongly, although discreetly, in the small community of Siebenhoch. The Bletterbach mountain looms over the village and has seen its share of mishaps and deaths, as locals and tourists insist on traversing its inhospitable cliffs. But on the face of it, one particular tragedy had nothing to do with the act of hiking or climbing per se and everything to do with a malevolent human act.

Evi, her boyfriend Kurt, and her brother Magnus went for a hike on the mountain. As young adults who had grown up in the area, they knew the ins and outs of Bletterbach better than most. Nevertheless, a once-in-a-lifetime storm hits the area during their hike, stalling their progress. Their dead bodies are discovered shortly after by a rescue team. And their bodies aren’t just dead; they are mangled. Were they murdered by a person or a legendary beast? During Salinger’s own ordeal on the mountain, he heard what he calls “The Beast” muttering and calling to him. Or did he? (He is pretty danged traumatized in any event.)

It is clear that as Salinger begins his “investigation,” he begins to step on toes and uncover secrets that should have stayed in the shadows. The investigation becomes an obsession at times. He knows it would be better for him to stay away from any more potential for trauma. He knows his wife and father-in-law strongly disapprove of his interference. He knows only heartache can come from digging into a crime that has uneasily settled down over the last twenty-plus years. No one was charged, no strong suspect investigated, no further murders occurred on the mountain.

The strong secondary story in D’Andrea’s book is the disintegration of Salinger’s personality. He has gone from fun-loving dad to his precocious daughter and romantic husband to his stalwart wife to a man who screams in the night and tortures himself with the details of the mountain murders. The locals alternately pummel and confide in him.

I can see why this book, according to promotional statements, made a splash at the London Book Fair. It’s loaded with plot twists, a mostly sympathetic main character, a cute kid, great physical setting, quirky culture (German-speaking part of Italy), and volatile human drama. But there was almost too much of everything. You really can stop now, I kept saying to Salinger. Let it go, I added. He didn’t listen to me. (He didn’t listen to anybody else either, so I don’t feel so bad.) Nevertheless, I found it hard to stop turning the pages.