Night Letters: A Journey Through Switzerland and Italy

Robert Dessaix's Night Letters is a poetic masterpiece. Not since Edmund White's richly evocative Nocturnes For the King of Naples has a gay novelist infused the themes of love and death with so fine a lyric sensibility. On finding himself diagnosed HIV positive, the book's Australian protagonist sets off on a journey from Switzerland across Northern Italy to Venice. Finding in Venice the funereal counterpoint to his own meditations on mortality, he writes a series of letters home to a friend. It is within the inspired context of these letters that the novel develops its hypnotic narrative qualities. If Night Letters is essentially composed of one man's nocturnal reflections on the nature of time, history and the search for an earthly paradise, then the nature of that exercise is dramatically underscored by other enriching narratives. When the protagonist makes the acquaintance at his hotel of the closeted Professor Eschenbaum, then we are introduced to the story of The Disappearing Courtesan. It is through the Professor that we learn the historic intrigue of Donna Scamozzi to have her virgin daughter Camilla married to a wealthy Venetian. Camilla's scheming liaisons lead eventually to a breathtakingly-paced tale of sordid sex and revenge. Gangbanged at the instigation of Lorenzo Cordellini for her infidelities, Camilla falls in love with his red-headed, blue-eyed son Alberto. Through the machinations of a magician Camilla contrives to bring father and son into murderous conflict. Lorenzo mistakenly knifes his son, who is in drag, and as a consequence of her grief for Alberto, Camilla is never seen or heard of again. She has dematerialized. Much of the novel's beauty comes from the author's profound reflections on Dante's Divine Comedy, and his linking the protagonist's experiential journey to that of Dante's passage from the Inferno to the Paradiso. Dante's perception of God as a radiant point in the universe, proves a pivot on which the troubled Australian can endeavour to find rest. 'The idea of Point,' he writes, 'and the relationship between a point and straight lines and circles, is one I must contemplate more, instead of thinking constantly about lunch, train timetables and the havoc in my veins.' Nocturnal dialogue between our protagonist and the erudite Professor Eschenbaum, leads to the additional consideration of time as it is observed in the lives of two famous Venetians: Marco Polo and Casanova. Siding with Casanova on account of his intense magnification of the moment, something to be vitally lived by those diagnosed positive, the narrator tells us: 'Polo discovered paradise over there, you see, he travelled there and then came back. Casanova discovered paradise in the travelling, if you see what I mean - it wasn't somewhere you could come back from.' Far from being morbid, Night Letters offers a message of hope. It is by living now and in the immediate that life is most purposefully experienced. The narrator who is constantly aler

Robert Dessaix author of Night Letters, and a self-proclaimed dilettante, takes the reader on a journey as infinite and romantic as any in modern literature. It is a book one can read and re-read. The main character, dying of a fatal disease, retreats to Europe where in an Italian hotel he writes letters of his memories, emotions, stories, stories within stories as well as his general perception of things. Of course his perceptions have a clarity and brillance which starts one musing in the middle of a paragraph.Dessaix's exceptional command of language,his philosopher's mind and generous heart create a sort of passionate intrigue around all of his subjects.There were many chapters whose poetic, and often purple prose, left me sighing at their close.I would recommend Night Letters to anyone who considers themself a traveller, a student, a romantic. . .to anyone who believes it is the subtlety of your vision which really matters, not what, or how much you see.

I discovered "Night Letters" at a booksale in a local public library. I hadn't heard of it at all. What struck me, and got me to pick it up to examine it, was the shere beauty of the bound book and its cover. The beauty of the language kept me enthralled. The literary allusions, including references to Patricia Highsmith and her novel recently made into the film "The Talented Mr. Ripley", caught my attention since I had recently seen the film with its lush, gorgeous Venetian scenery. Fascinating also were the descriptions of the Italian and Swiss Alps--making the journey not only introspective, but also great travel,arm-chair style. I recommend it to anyone who seeks excellence in writing.

Bruno bettelheim tells of an Indian tradition in which the sick go to a story teller who examines the patient and then recites a story designed to work a cure. It's a challenging thought but it is obvious that some stories have the power to heal. This is a book about powerful stories, powerful places and the healing they bring.The framework of this picareque novel is familiar enough: the writer flees from his homeland under sentence of death. [He has the AIDS virus.] He goes to Switzerland and Italy in denial and there follows a path rich in stories and allusions. If you don't know your Dante and your Thomas Mann you will miss some of the richness but even the most general reader will connect with the narrative jewells the writer encounters. There are obvious connections with the "Death in Venice" motif: same place, different plague. Other stories are spun out of the place or the people he meets. Finally, sated and strengthened, he turns home empowered and prepared to face death.This is an Australian novel despite its European setting. Non Australian readers will be charmed by the wit and the sensitivity to the sound of narrator's voice. [It is a very aural novel.] If Robert Dessaix can write more novels like Night Letters he may become our premier writer for the next century.

I just picked this book up at the library knowing nothing about it. By the time I finished it I had dog-earred so may pages that I decided to report the book lost. I happily paid for it so that I can return to the pages I loved best. I am not gay and probably would not have read the book if I had thought it was about gay issues. I found Dessaix's thoughts and observations to be similar to my own, as I consider myself to be a sensualist. For those of us who want to examine our lives rather than escape to outerspace this is a worthwhile read. I think it is signifigant that this treasure has so few reviews. I just check reviews on "Spending" by Mary Gordon, which is a terrible bore and the readers were just raving. Not many intelligent or thinking readers of fiction out there.