When a novelist embeds quotations from some fictitious novel in his/her own text [as Muriel Spark does in Territorial Rights], it is, of course, always with aesthetic intent, usually parodic. The glum kitchen-sink realism of Anthea's library book, its plodding record of banal thoughts and predictable emotions, is clearly intended to contrast with the sprightly narrative style, the glamorous local colour, the dazzlingly complex intrigue of Territorial Rights, and perhaps to underline the advantages enjoyed by a novelist residing in Italy. 'It may seem far-fetched to you, Anthea,' says Grace Gregory, reporting the latest developments to Anthea by telephone, 'But here everything is stark realism. This is Italy.'

We know from her previous novels that Muriel Spark is fascinated by the mixture of cynicism and passion, corruption and beauty in the Italian scene, finding in it (much as the Elizabethans found in Machiavelli's Italy) an...