Daughter of silence

Once again, I am awed by Morris West's narrative skill. Book such as this and Leon Uris' "Topaz" surely set the stage for the modern legal thrillers we're all familiar with. Here, while probing matters of the law and of morals, West draws characters full of pathos and love and honor. This book never builds to the excitement of "The Tower of Babel" or "Salamander," nor to the spiritual intrigue of "The Shoes of the Fisherman" or "The Clowns of God," but it poignantly captures the drama and schisms in a Tuscan family.
The story opens with a beautiful young lady's arrival in a small Italian town. She promptly goes to the door of the mayor and shoots him in cold blood. From there, her guilt and her defense serve as the fulcrum upon which the major characters balance. The defense attorney and his wife have their own private battles to deal with. The psychiatrist called upon by the defense is in a struggle for his own sense of purpose and for love with a mature young woman. And, overshadowing them all, the attorney's father-in-law wields control in his own twisted quest for connection. The ceaseless dysfunction plays its final hand in the closing pages.
Sure, West's characters tend to be verbose and wise beyond credibility, yet they are painted against such vivid backgrounds and given such concrete motivations that I can't help but lose myself in their stories. West, as always, has probing questions--and occasional answers--regarding ethics and spirituality in a modern age. Though I might not always agree with his suppositions, I always admire the courage and imagination he draws upon to highlight our troubled times.