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Nov 20, 2011zipread rated this title 5 out of 5 stars
Whenever I go somewhere where the sun is hot, the beach is sandy and the water alluring the apple of my eye packs a handful of books to keep both of us occupied as we roast and toast ourselves till we are an all-over healthy brown. She packs and I co-read. Daniel Silva’s “The Confessor” was number one on my list of reads. The others , save one, were too obviously chick lits. But Silva’s cover promised “spy-fiction ace” and “compelling … superior entertainment” Both assessments were right on the money. Silva has the recipe for a good read down pat. He takes a dash of dirty WWII Nazi secrets; mixes in a little Vatican skullduggery; a measure of rogue cardinals from the curia; a passel some Italian carabinieri of dubious loyalty; an aging author secretly writing a book that stirs up unwanted interest; a restorer of Re naissance art who is not who he appears to be; and a squadron of Israeli agents. Stir and then set the resulting batter in some mildly exotic and mildly glamorous locations: Provence; Ticino; and Rome. Add a good measure of gunplay; some fast cars and then bake and you’ve got “The Confessor”. Silva writes well. This book was tough to put down. Riveting is the word. Maybe that’s why he’s got a number of other novels to his credit. He’s good. No Dan Brown, mind you, but good none the less. Good enough for me to make a point of putting him on my “other books to read” list. For sure, Silva’s got a hit on his hands.