I happened upon this at the library when over in the mystery aisles, and thought it sounded promising, as it involved a character returning to Prague twenty years after an initial visit around the time of the Velvet Revolution. Unfortunately, I found it disappointing.
Previous commentators seem divided between those who loved it and those who found it thin stuff. The book's fans find it rich and subtle, with three appealing protagonists, while those who didn't care for it complain that it's pedestrian, predictable, features too many nuns and priests, and lacks a real sense of Prague. I can see how it would appeal to some readers--it's not what I'd consider a "cozy" but probably suits fans of that sub-genre tolerably well. However, this book misses many opportunities, and its mix of minute detail and inaccuracy makes me wonder whether the author did her research on Prague without ever visiting the city (or if she spent a few days there once but isn't all that familiar with it). Yes, she knows street names, and usually spells things correctly, which is more than most Americans do. But the book is just full of things that feel "off."
One of the protagonists is a Czech homicide detective--a Chief Investigator named Dal Damek. This instantly sounded phony to me. Damek is a Czech nickname for Adam and doesn't sound like a surname, while if the detective's first name is Dalibor or Dalimil, his nickname isn't going to be Dal, but perhaps Borek, Libor, or Mila. Similarly, a minor character is called Bo, which is also not a normal nickname for a Czech. And then there's Branislov, whose name should be spelled BraniSLAV because "slov" and "slav" don't mean the same thing and the Czechs don't mess with baptismal name spellings. (I can't comment on whether the Czech Republic's police have titles like Chief Investigator, as my only direct experience with today's police force was when I reported a pickpocketing incident back in 2003 or thereabouts.) Verisimilitude in names may seem trivial to some readers but is important; if you read a book set in present-day Fargo, wouldn't you be surprised if the local farmers were named Mercutio, Nigel, and Melibea?
Catholicism is a major theme in the book, which is fine--Catholicism has a long history in Prague. But given that the Czech Republic is a strongly secular country, it seems as though a passing mention ought to be made that most Czechs (unlike most of the characters in the book) are not devout Catholics. Likewise, the description of Jan Hus as "a revered Protestant preacher who'd defied the Catholic Church" does not exactly make clear that Jan Hus was actually a Catholic priest and theologian burned at the stake for his efforts to reform the church and that the Hussites were among the first Protestants.
This leads me to the term "dissenter." Dissenter and dissident are indeed synonyms, but "dissenter" is a term one associates with British Nonconformist church members of bygone times, while "dissident" is the term used in English for Charter 77 signatories and their supporters. I was baffled that the author repeatedly referred to the Czech dissidents as "dissenters." Given that the Velvet Revolution is vital to the story here and that the author brings in Civic Forum, the StB, and so on, calling the dissidents "dissenters" is really peculiar. The first time I saw "dissenter," I thought the author meant someone who dissented from the dissidents' position.
So... lots of strange big and small missteps. The American, whose hotel is on Nerudova (so is in a tourist hotel but not in a big chain hotel), gets her breakfast coffee in a paper cup and walks down the street with it--not impossible, but so very unlikely in Prague. Likewise, that the hotel management slips her final bill under her door. (I've only had a bill under my door at big conference hotels in the US.)
Nitpicking aside, this book could have done so much with the premise of young American college graduates getting involved in the Velvet Revolution, one staying in Prague and the other not returning until twenty years later. With or without a murder mystery, this theme has huge promise, but it just wastes its potential. And yes, too many nuns, but not surprising that the priests are all Italian, because how many Czechs these days become priests? Not very many, I think.