I absolutely loved this novel. Sometimes there are a whole lot of experiences that connect us to the setting of a book. The Rome Zoo is set, well, in the Rome Zoo. I have no idea whether elements of the history are real but we are firmly in the register of the fable. Like many people, I have always loved zoos. When I was a kid, my first publication was a letter to a newspaper about the treatment of orangutans at Perth Zoo. It was nearish my childhood home and I often walked past, peering through the fence at the extraordinary world just beyond. Once we moved to Sydney, I was entranced with Taronga Zoo. My mother had, in the distant past, had a relationship with Ron Strahan who was the director from 1967-1974, and this somehow added to a feeling of connection. At drama school we all had to be an animal. I chose, perversely, a camel, which meant hours standing in front of the enclosure watching its behaviour. Later when I did anthropology, I used to think about doing a study of human behaviour at the zoo, always being particularly amazed by the things people said and did in front of gorillas and chimps, that refracted mirror not necessarily bringing out the best in them. Anyway, long digression. The Rome Zoo juxtaposes past and present - we have tales of old Rome, which reminded me of the film 'La Grande Bellezza'. And then we have the present, haunted by the past. It's a kind of love story and a sort of meditation on grief, loss and madness. At times, it is very funny, with droll send-ups of social media and academia, indeed, of all the spin-off industries that use animals to achieve human ambitions. Most centrally, it pivots around the story of the last living example of a species and what that edge of extinction represents for a variety of actors. Mostly, it was the tone of this novel that so drew me in - it combined a kind of florid romanticism with a deep remoteness, a combination that sang to me.