The wrong answer to a village's prayers

It is one of the more enduring and interesting of human truths: how the needs that inspire faith can also occasion gullibility. One's yearning for a higher love may persuade a person to believe in miracles, but it can also leave one vulnerable to scams. This rich premise is what Jeff Shapiro sets out to dramatize in his entertaining, but flawed, second novel, "Secrets of Sant'Angelo."

The novel takes us into the small Italian village of Sant'Angelo D'Asso, the same spot where Shapiro's first novel, "Renato's Luck," was set. The village has been visited by a long season of misfortune in the form of torrential rains, influenza outbreaks and unusual deaths. Just as adversity has begun to wear down the townspeople, two newcomers arrive, a beautiful woman and her grown son, and in no time, these two have both seduced and raised suspicion in many of Sant'Angelo's residents.

Rosa Spina Innocenti enchants men with fantastic stories of her immaculate conception (as well as with her "miraculous breasts"), while her solemn son Emanuele Mose mesmerizes with his apparent ability to heal animals and people through prayer. Several of the town's most emotionally fragile citizens soon become regular worshippers at the Innocentis' apartment, where they are guided in matters of faith and in return offer up money and gifts. Episodes of discord and schism follow, including some anti-Semitic vandalism and a challenge to the authority of the town's Roman Catholic priest.

This is ambitious stuff, and Shapiro does a fine job taking his time to carefully stir the narrative into the hearty swirl of an old-fashioned tale. There is a large cast of interesting characters, and throughout there are nicely detailed set pieces conveying the customs and traditions of village life. The mix of wonder and brutality in the butcher's shop is a good example: "Mauro took the dark sausage from the display case and sharpened his knife. All eyes in the store watched, for there was something irresistible about the butcher's meaty hands in action, the fingernails trimmed in blood." Or similarly, the town's cobbler: "Coughing, he picked up the boot and forced a fat hand inside. 'You'd be amazed,' he said, starting to expound on his favorite theory, 'what you can tell about people from their shoes.' He examined the boot as if it were a body part." This is good, vivid writing and it's present on every page.