The Floating Book

A good historical novel, well researched, but the research does not get in the way of a rattling good read.. Tells the story of immigrant German printers taking the new invention to 15th century Venice. There is a parallel story of the 64BC Roman poet Catallus, whose love poetry is courageously printed in 15th century Catholic Venice by the German printers. The connection does not end there as Catallus' obsessional love for the woman and muse who inspired the poetry is similarly reflected in one of the young Venetian printers love for an immigrant femme fatale. This is a sensual novel that tackles some big themes; obsession, immigrants, witchcraft, Judaism and the barbarism of 15th century life. I wish I had read the authors note at the show more end of the book before reading the novel then I would not have wondered as I read through how many of the characters were fictional. Many of them are not.

Generally the writing is of a very good quality and the plot is well worked through and builds to a satisfying climax.. I am a succour for books about Venice one of my favourite European cities and the flavour of the city comes through well. There is also a brilliantly written account of a crossing of the alps woven into the plot. Michelle Lovrich manages to keep all the balls in the air as well as some telling phrases such as:

"I've come to the conclusion that every word we read sticks to our mind like like specks of oat in a pot, whether we like it or not"

"I deserve to be cuckolded better than that"

"Its not healthy for the soul to be sealed up in a bubble of just two people, no matter what rainbows appear inside"

Lovrich provides translations of snippets of the poetry of Catallus at the start of each chapter and I for one will be searching out some more. A novel with lots going on which I would recommend. show less

In 1470 Venice everyone was unhappy in his own way. At least that is the impression left by The Floating Book. A finer collection of miserable, unhappy, unpleasant characters could not be found gathered in one place than reside here.

Ostensibly a novel about Wendelin of Speyer and his brother Johann, the first printers in Venice, that is merely one of the frames that hold this otherwise rather sordid book together. Couched in elegant prose, the base affairs connecting historic figures Wendelin Speyer and artist Giovanni Bellini to a fictional sideshow of emotional dwarves, psychological cripples and other misfits dominate the narrative.

Purported letters of Catullus, the Roman poet whose star shone briefly at the time of Julius Caesar show more and Cicero forms the other frame, the two stories overlapping around the initial publication in Rome and the first printing in Venice fifteen hundred years later of his voluptuous poetry which had somehow survived in manuscript form the totalitarian ravages of Church dominance.

The Floating Book contains a combination of elements that interest me a great deal — the history of printing, the Renaissance, Venice herself and her art and customs — and I was therefore prepared to like the book and looked forward to reading it. However, although it represents a massive amount of research and polished writing and is replete with a surfeit of factoids and Renaissance lore, it fell short of expectations. The fact is, the story Michelle Lovric has written is filled with people who are not only flawed, but they commit the most egregious literary sin of all: they are boring.

I could go on, but why bother? Aside from the stylish writing and the historical setting, and Catullus's poems that serve as chapter epigraphs, I found little in the way of enjoyment in these pages. show less

Fifteenth century Venice is almost a character in its own right in this lush and vibrant historical which weaves together the lives and experiences of several characters as they struggle to introduce books printed on Gutenberg’s revolutionary press to a city only excited by beauty and novelty. The von Speyer brothers, German-born printers, move to Venice to peddle their books and are granted a temporary monopoly on the market. When the eldest brother takes ill and dies, taking the monopoly with him into the grave, it falls to Wendelin, the younger and less imaginitive of the two, to continue the business. Wendelin is completely in love with his young, vibrant, superstitious Venetian wife, Lussièta—and she with him, until the day he show more brings home a cabinet that once stood in a house she is convinced to be haunted and cursed.

Wendelin’s young protégé, Bruno, has love problems of his own. He is obsessed with Sosia Simeon, a Serbian Jew married to a local doctor. Married or not, however, Sosia herself is obsessed with bedding as many Venetian-born men as possible, perhaps to prove her own worth to herself, perhaps for an earthier reason. Her exploits form a backdrop to the struggles of the rest of the characters as she makes her conquests from the ranks of Venetians of all social classes and professions.

Also informing the story are the earthy and overtly sensual poems of the Roman Catullus. Letters written to his brother are interspersed, in which Catullus discusses his own obsessional romance with Clodia, a woman much like Sosia. Wendelin, meanwhile, debates the merits of publishing an edition of Catullus’s poetry. Possessing all the qualities Ventians love, such an edition could save his struggling printing house. But being controversial, it could, instead, prove his ruin.

Rich and enchanting, rife with historical detail and yet mixed with flights of pure authorial fantasy, “The Floating Book” is a delight. show less

I first saw this book in JUST ARRIVED hardback section of BORDERS. It was the beautiful cover art (and the different typefaces) in the book. Being attracted to all things--literary (books about books), I bought it, thinking I'd be reading about a fabulous book printed in Venice by Wendelin von Speyer. I was expecting Von Speyer to be a Marco Polo of printers. But I found a more ordinary man (although no less fascinating) . . . truly I thought he had more merchant than artisan in his soul. And this book is about how he tried to tailor himself into the peculiar suit of a Venetian of that day.

The prose is beautiful. It reminded me of Tanith Lee, a dark fantasist and to a lesser extent, Patricia McKillip. But it took me a while to figure show more out that the use of a specific typeface was related to the narrator of the tale. There is Catullus who writes the book that Wendelin Von Speyer eventually prints several hundred years later-- at great personal cost. There is Wendelin himself, the German printer who remains an outsider of Venice . . . until the end of the book. There is his superstitious and annoying wife--Lussieta--who was so needy I wanted to choke her. There is the most fascinating nymphomaniac in literature, Sosia. And the strange nun/abortionist Gentilia who nursed an unhealthy love for Bruno, her brother who is one of Sosia's legion of lovers. (Her scruples, such as they are, allow her to bed only Venetians.) There's Fra Fillipo--the Pat Robertson of Venice and his little pervy sidekick, Ianno who has a very lively and picturesque birthmark on the side of his head. All these characters' lives revolve around Catullus book. How can one not be enamoured by this story. And there's a killer ending too!!!! This would be a great HBO mini-series. show less

En la Venecia de 1468 la revolución de la palabra impresa cautiva y aterroriza a la ciudad más seductora de Europa. La hermosa pero despiadada Sosia Simeón, esposa de un médico judío muy conocido, se mueve a placer por la ciudad impulsada por una extraña compulsión que la lleva a buscar placeres ilícitos con hombres de toda condición. En la otra orilla del Gran Canal, Wendelin von Speyer acaba de llegar de Alemania con una revolución cultural: los tipos móviles de Gutenberg. Junto al joven editor de textos Bruno Uguccione y el seductor amanuense Felice Feliciano, instala la primera imprenta de la ciudad. Al poco, se desarrolla un triángulo amoroso entre Sosia, Felice y Bruno, quien queda fascinado con los versos de Cayo show more Valerio Catulo, el poeta erótico romano. La trama se complica cuando Wendelin, desafiando al destino, publica al poeta romano, lo que cambiará para siempre la vida de todos.Lovric despliega su novela como un gran telón de arrebatador terciopelo rojo veneciano, en el que las verdades y las mentiras se entretejen suavemente y adquieren un tacto asombroso. Todo esto, junto a una galería de personajes extraordinarios, hace de la lectura de esta novela una experiencia inolvidable, tanto para los amantes de la historia como para los de la palabra impresa. "Poco a poco, la deslumbrante y opulenta Venecia del siglo XV va cobrando vida."The Washington Post "Lovric sitúa figuras históricas como el impresor alemán Wendelin von Speyer junto a creaciones extraordinarias como Sosia Simeón para urdir una trama cargada de intriga sobre lujurias destructivas en los primeros tiempos de la imprenta."Publishers Weekly "En esta época de cursos de literatura "creativa", de ficción de "ínfimo común denominador", resulta refrescante y estimulante leer un libro de una autora que está genuinamente interesada por las palabras."The Washington Post Book World show less

The frame story is about the Roman poet Catullus and his relationship with the cold courtesan Clodia. She uses him with no tenderness, no love, and he writes poems to her in his obsession.

This story is mirrored by the relationship between the Jewish doctor's wife, Sosia, and the young editor Bruno Uguccione. After a childhood trauma Sosia's parents turned away from her, and she spends the rest of her life getting revenge for what has been done to her by sleeping with any and all Venetians. She's obsessed with sex as the purely carnal act.

Bruno, on the other hand, is innocent and beautiful. He is slowly destroyed by her indifference and lack of tenderness.

The poems of Catullus are found and printed by the German printer Wendelin von show more Speyer, whose youthful love and then disintegrating marriage are the final intertwined story of the book.

The language is beautiful, lyrical, quotable throughout much of the book, but at times it seems stilted and unnatural, forced into a 'poetic' feel. The first person accounts, however, suffer the least from this problem, and these truly bring the story to life, drawing the reader deeper into Renaissance Venice or ancient Rome.

I'm not quite sure what to think of this book. At times it was beautiful, at others heartwrenching, sometimes downright sordid. It's a glimpse at very human misunderstandings, but it's also hard to understand what exactly makes Sosia so attractive in the first place (which makes the entire premise of the book a bit difficult).

I enjoyed it thoroughly once I got past the first two parts, but it didn't satisfy me as I'd hoped, either. show less

Historical fiction that melds fictional characters and real people from history in a recreation of the early days of the printing press and the coming of "quick books". One of the main themes of the book is the printing of Catullus's poetry. The book focuses on several characters involved with this; their lives and relationships. Each section of the book is prefaced by a snippet of Catullus's life and relationship with Clodia (the inspiration for much of his poetry) these reflect aspects of the Venetian story.

I must say that the voices of the various characters were not always distinct (it sometimes took a paragraph or two to decide who was speaking). Apart from that minor quibble I really liked this book. The author created wonderfully show more evocative images of Venetian life. show less