The Montalbano lives at night. He digs into its darkness. In front of him opens a labyrinth of mirrors. He loses himself in the meanders as he follows their reflection: the warning and admonition of his good and bad conscience.

There is something more in this novel compared to Montalbano's others. The slimy behavior of Inspector Lattes becomes even more disturbing; he shows signs of kindness that unexpectedly explode like landmines. The noisy knocks on the door and the strange way of speaking of Caterella, the constantly breathless policeman who always makes serious mistakes and major linguistic blunders, now resonate with even more dreamy wildness.

Livia is even more distant and irritable. With her, on the phone, Montalbano is forced to try to keep a secret that burns his lips. The inspector couldn’t restrain himself. Montalbano experiences the 'sweet mistake' that Petrarch lived.

A new Laura, 'a beautiful woman' just like the poet's, but in a coast guard officer's uniform, made him become like Petrarch, faithfully copying even the 'jealousy.' If Petrarch's was a 'youthful mistake,' Montalbano's mistake belongs almost to old age.

[Excerpt from the text on the back cover of the edition]