“Did you ever read Henry James? He was a great writer who came to Venice and looked out the window and smoked his cigar and thought.”

Not a bad tribute, I figured, & something definitely worth emulating – especially since that accolade was written by Ernest Hemingway. And so I packed away some Venetian-oriented Henry James [NB: not hard to do, since both Italian Hours and The Aspern Papers are available free on Kindle], and we made our way — albeit without the cigars — to that beautiful city.

I’m not sure that Mr. James was the best guide for this particular visit, however. The run-up to Lent is the crucial time of year in Rio and New Orleans, and Venice’s Carnival is equally well known – especially for its costumes and masks. Mr. James was not its strongest proponent, however, given his experience in another Italian city:

The scene was striking, in a word; but somehow not as I had dreamed of its being. I stood regardful, I suppose, but with a peculiarly tempting blankness of visage, for in a moment I received half a bushel of flour on my too-philosophic head. Decidedly it was an ignoble form of humor…. The Carnival had received its deathblow in my imagination.

Hanging around at the Carnevale di Venezia (…and no, that’s not me!)

Luckily for us, the scene was still striking, as Venice was filled (almost literally!) with revelers and partiers…. and the very worst that I had to do was comb multi-colored confetti (not flour) out of my own hair.

But this Venice trip wasn’t only about Henry James. One (modern) writer whose books I usually buy as soon as they come out is Steven Johnson, the author of such works as Emergence, The Ghost Map, and The Invention of Air — all works that I’ve cited in my courses. The first chapter in his latest book, How We Got To Now: Six Innovations That Made the Modern World, sees Venice not so much a victim of modernity (the lament of James, Ruskin, & many others) – but rather its creator. The key setting was Murano, the Venetian island that is world renowned for its glass-making industry and arts. Johnson sees the island as a sort of 13th Century ‘Silicon Valley’, and he traces the glass-making art from Turkish refugees fleeing to Venice after the Fall of Constantinople in 1204, through lenses and eyeglasses and mirrors – and ultimately to telescopes, microscopes, fiber-optic cables, iPhone screens and flat screen TVs.

Burano

As a bit of a respite from the crowds and celebrations, we took a pleasant trip over to Murano, to check out a glass-making factory and the island’s famous shops. That trip also visited two other islands: Burano, known for its lace industry and colorful domiciles, and which was “celebrated for its beautiful women and rapacious children,” according to James; and Torcello, with its “deeply interesting little cathedral of the eighth century,” and its “perfect bath of light” that so influenced the city’s painters.

 

A ‘perfect bath of light’?

Even though he didn’t especially like Carnival, James’ affection for Venice is readily evident…. and given his approach, it seems more than appropriate to give him the last word:

Reading Ruskin is good; reading the old records is perhaps better; but the best thing of all is simply staying on. The only way to care for Venice as she deserves it is to give her a chance to touch you often – to linger and remain and return.