The City of Falling Angels

The City of Falling Angels is Venice. In this book, published in 2005, John Berendt gives Venice the same basic treatment he gave Savannah in a previous book, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. He has a framework and a construction formula. Select a very interesting city, focus on a calamity there that engages all the wits and gossips, draws all the sidewalk (in this case, canal) superintendents. As the details of the calamity and its aftermath trickle out, Berendt fleshes out his tale with what amount to sidebars on ancillary characters and conflicts and entertainments.

Here his main event is a disastrous fire than destroys the Fenice Opera House in January 1996. The Fenice is hundreds of years old. Because the canal adjacent to show more the structure has been drained for needed repairs and renovation, firefighters can't quickly deluge the blaze. They have to jerry-rig hose-lines through walkways and even through some buildings. In the aftermath, new threads develop, following investigations into the cause, following various plans for reconstruction, following competition for the reconstruction contract. The ornate structure's been expanded, renovated and its interior altered over the years, of course, but the archive of architectural plans, of construction plans, is spotty. Recent photos of the interior spaces are nonexistent.

As this tale unfolds, Berendt intersperses it with sidebars.

• Archimede Seguso, whose apartment is across the canal from the theater is stupified by the inferno, sitting in a chair by a window, watching the fire all night, ignoring pleas from fire officials, his wife, his son to vacate to safety. He is, we learn, a master glassblower, active for 75 years, and now in his late 80s is the patriarch of one of Venice's most significant firms. Berendt recounts the story of glass making in Venice, of family feuds that threaten the creative and business integrity of the firms, and how Signor Seguso energized by the fire.

• A group of wealthy Americans are gathering in Venice, when the fire explodes. These men and women are the leaders of Save Venice, a New York-based charity that funds repairs and restorations. Several own palatial residences bordering the Grand Canal and other waterways. Some represent inherited wealth, while others built their own fortunes. As time passes, these powerful folks get to squabbling amongst themselves. Berendt tells pretty much of it.

• Ezra Pound was long a resident of Venice, where he lived with his mistress of 50 years, Olga Rudge. When Pound, then his widow, died in the early 1970s, Olga was left in possession of their house and several large chests with the poet and editor's papers. Berendt is drawn to the end-of-life machinations to gain control of those papers and the house. (Now I have to read Pound and about Pound!)

Oh, there's a lot more. Anecdotes about daily life in a city without cars. Profiles on the rich, the aristocratic, the political, even ordinary mortals. Can you tell that I really enjoyed this book?

What's missing? Photos and drawings. How can you tell about this unique city and its artistic and architectural wonders, about a devastating fire and an enormously complicated construction without SHOWING at least a handful of pictures. The endpapers are printed with a marvellous bird-eye view of the city with many buildings highlighted. But it isn't enough. Check Google Maps as you read. show less

I wish John Berendt had written a different book about Venice. One that was about the real inhabitants and daily lives of Venetians. It's one of those places where the myth and exclamations and romanticism of tourists overshadow the fact that for some people, it's just home. There are pluses (the last train to the mainland leaves at 9 pm, and it's expensive to stay at a hotel in the city, so the majority of the tourists clear out for the night) and minuses (oh, those tourists and their obsession with the pigeons in Piazza San Marco), but there are also many unique aspects as a result of its geography if nothing else. At first, I thought this was the book Berendt had written - he started off talking about the fire that destroyed the show more Fenice Opera House shortly before he arrived in Venice to start writing this book. This led to an interlude about a master glassblower who was inspired to create pieces representative of what he saw as he watched the building burn.

I was even with Berendt when he started talking to the expatriates from whom he rented his apartment. Although the couple were somewhat annoying, they were also able to provide an interesting perspective on the city and its ways, a sort of insider-outsider's view. But from this point on, the whole book went down a path I wasn't that enthralled with. The people Berendt talked to and about were often not native Venetians, and usually prominent and filthy rich. The type of thing I enjoy hearing about: Venetians always embellish, and if you don't do the same, they'll be first suspicious and then bored of you. The type of thing I don't enjoy hearing about: someone who has a replica of Casanova's gondola made for their use. A thing that is interesting: Venice is a terrible city for the elderly because of the amount of walking (including up and down bridges) that is required. A thing that is not so interesting: how many doges some count has had in his family. Interesting: why people's feelings about Venice take the form of wanting to "save" it (as one person said, "Why does everyone want to save Venice? Why don't they want to save Paris?"). Not interesting: the infighting on the board of the Save Venice organization and whose name goes at the top of a plaque. The family of long-term expatriates (multiple generations) who own a palace managed to straddle the line, although I think I would have liked hearing about them more if the focus hadn't been on so many other fabulously wealthy people.

And through all these stories, Berendt keeps going back to the fire at the Fenice, with the narrative centering around who set the fire (or if it was an accident, but let's get real - it's obvious it was arson). That story would have made a pretty involving article, but it was dragged out and out to make it last through the book's entirety. Toward the end, I started wondering if Berendt had started the fire to give himself something to write about. My advice: read some other book on Venice. I don't know which one, but another one. show less

Absolutely fascinating. Each chapter was devoted to a specific person or event, like the burning of the Fenice or the glassblower’s family war. Every person who appeared was interesting and had something to say. The part where the Rat Man talked about why his poison was so successful was weirdly fascinating. As was the Plant Man; because of the profound lack of soil and open space in Venice, practically no one understands how to grow plants, even indoors. So the Plant Man must come to their rescue. It’s probably the only place on earth that would need his services so completely.

One thing that struck me, and it could have been Berendt’s telling and not fact, was the hard-headedness of the bureaucracy of Venice. They choked show more themselves with so many rules and petty slights that no wonder there’s no progress to speak of there. It seems to be backwards for backwards’ sake. I would lose patience in about 5 seconds I imagine.

The part about the curators of the Guggenheim was fascinating; the plotting calculation of the wife and the utter degradation of the husband. Ruthless and transparently so, but successful despite that. The same woman seems to have positively and completely stolen the papers of the widow of Ezra Pound.

But the ruthlessness and backstabbing aren’t limited to just that story. The Save Venice Foundations was/is equally rife. What a load of snarling bitches. Privilege breeds this kind of contempt and self-adulation I suppose, but it seemed really petty and stupid. Fun to read though.

Even though it will probably be another 10 years before we have another from Berendt, I can’t wait. show less

When one thinks of Venice, the imagery of gondolas and waterways and brightly colored carnival masks usually come to mind. Venice itself is a complicated city and lends itself to an air of old world intrigue. John Berendt fell in love with the city the first time he visited. Upon a subsequent visit, Berendt arrived three days after a devastating fire has ravaged the grand a historic La Fenice Opera House. Rumors of arson swirl among the community prompting Berendt to put on his investigative persona and dig in the ashes of history. Eventually, through meeting a cast of colorful characters, he uncovers the truths and fictions surrounding La Fenice Opera House and Venice.
Special note: if you want to read City of Falling Angels, do show more yourself a favor and listen to it on CD and make sure to get the version with Berendt's interview at the end. His explanation for the title of the book is eyeopening. show less

This book produced the same sensation in me as a reader as Berendt's previous work, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil did, which is make me desperately desire to travel to the city in question. Berendt has a true talent for making a place come alive through both description of setting and introduction of character.
The nominal main story of this work revolves around a destructive fire at the Fenice Theater in 1996. Berendt introduces us to the investigators of the disaster, possible suspects and also important bystanders and witnesses.
In addition to this theme, there are a couple of sub-plots, one involving the late mistress of Ezra Pound and a shady-seeming couple who befriend her and pretty much steal all of the memorabilia of show more her relationship with Pound as well as other important ephemera she has in her possession at the time of her death as well as the last years of her life. This couple also seems to have had a suspicious relationship with Peggy Guggenheim at the end of her life.
The other subplot regards a fight for prominency amongst the leadership of the Save Venice charitable organization. There is quite a bit of name-dropping throughout.
Berendt is thorough in tracking down witnesses and others who might have information regarding any of these plot points and seems to have spent years investigating and collecting material for this book. In fact, the last pages deal with the reopening of the Fenice after 8 years of reconstruction, in 2004.
Unfortunately, the City of Venice did not have a pleasant reaction to the publication of this book, characterizing it as 'nasty gossip', since many of its prominent citizens are painted rather uncharitably, and unlike Savannah has no need of an American book to make it a popular tourist destination, it has and will continue nevertheless to see visitors inspired by their perusal of this work. show less

At first, I wasn't too sure about reading this book. So, the opera house in Venice burned down. Always sad to lose an historic building, but really, did I care enough to read 398 pages? But it wasn't long before I was hooked. The book uses the fire as a backdrop to the stories of many interesting Venetians that the author encounters while living in that city. Some are more interesting than others -- like Ralph Curtis who requires an imprint of your big toe if you wish to visit his home, or the Rat Man or the poet Mario Stefani who dies in mysterious circumstances. I was sorry to come to the end of this totally captivating portrait of life in Venice.

John Berendt, what a genius! He makes his nonfiction more compelling than the vast majority of novels! Here Berendt takes us on a visit to Venice — not the Venice of gawking tourists but the Venice of residents whose Venetian bona fides go back centuries. The story begins in 1996, when Venice’s renowned opera house La Fenice burns down. The book ends in 2003 when La Fenice arises from the ashes like its namesake phoenix. In between, readers are treated to an insider’s view to a city where almost nothing resembles the tourist’s version of Venice. I wish I could give it more than five stars!