In 1869 W. D. Howells, in reward for having written a campaign biography of Abraham Lincoln, was given the job of consul in Venice.
For a young nineteenth-century American who had left school when he was nine to earn a living, the hardest part of his sinecure was that he had almost nothing to do. "I dreaded the easily formed habit of receiving a salary for no service performed," he wrote. "I reminded myself that, soon or late, I must go back to the old fashion of earning money, and that it had better be sooner than later."
Venetian Life flows from the enchantment, the magical improbability, of the years Howell spent in that magnificent city dining with the rich, mingling with the humble, and reporting it all with a uniquely American wit and curiosity.
Willam Dean Howells (1837-1920) was a novelist, short story writer, magazine editor, and mentor who wrote for various magazines, including the Atlantic Monthly and Harper's Magazine.
In January 1866 James Fields offered him the assistant editor role at the Atlantic Monthly. Howells accepted after successfully negotiating for a higher salary, but was frustrated by Fields's close supervision. Howells was made editor in 1871, remaining in the position until 1881.
In 1869 he first met Mark Twain, which began a longtime friendship. Even more important for the development of his literary style — his advocacy of Realism — was his relationship with the journalist Jonathan Baxter Harrison, who during the 1870s wrote a series of articles for the Atlantic Monthly on the lives of ordinary Americans.
He wrote his first novel, Their Wedding Journey, in 1872, but his literary reputation took off with the realist novel A Modern Instance, published in 1882, which described the decay of a marriage. His 1885 novel The Rise of Silas Lapham is perhaps his best known, describing the rise and fall of an American entrepreneur of the paint business. His social views were also strongly represented in the novels Annie Kilburn (1888), A Hazard of New Fortunes (1890), and An Imperative Duty (1892). He was particularly outraged by the trials resulting from the Haymarket Riot.
His poems were collected during 1873 and 1886, and a volume under the title Stops of Various Quills was published during 1895. He was the initiator of the school of American realists who derived, through the Russians, from Balzac and had little sympathy with any other type of fiction, although he frequently encouraged new writers in whom he discovered new ideas.
Howells also wrote plays, criticism, and essays about contemporary literary figures such as Henrik Ibsen, Émile Zola, Giovanni Verga, Benito Pérez Galdós, and, especially, Leo Tolstoy, which helped establish their reputations in the United States. He also wrote critically in support of American writers Hamlin Garland, Stephen Crane, Emily Dickinson, Mary E. Wilkins Freeman, Paul Laurence Dunbar, Sarah Orne Jewett, Charles W. Chesnutt, Abraham Cahan, Madison Cawein,and Frank Norris. It is perhaps in this role that he had his greatest influence. In his "Editor's Study" column at the Atlantic Monthly and, later, at Harper's, he formulated and disseminated his theories of "realism" in literature.
In 1904 he was one of the first seven people chosen for membership in the American Academy of Arts and Letters, of which he became president.
Howells died in Manhattan on May 11, 1920. He was buried in Cambridge Cemetery in Massachusetts.
Noting the "documentary" and truthful value of Howells' work, Henry James wrote: "Stroke by stroke and book by book your work was to become, for this exquisite notation of our whole democratic light and shade and give and take, in the highest degree documentary."
As a young man, William Dean Howells spent four years as US consul in Venice (arriving in 1862) when it was under Austrian rule.
Fortunately for him, those were not yet the days of mass tourism, and he was able to stroll around the city, go for swims in the Grand Canal from the front steps of his house, take his boat out and visit the other islands in the lagoon at leisure, taking in the sights, sounds and smells and observing people of all strata of society undisturbed. As apparently he had very little work to do in the office, he had ample time to study all aspects of the Serenissima and this book is full of fascinating information that one doesn’t find in most guide books.
Like everyone else, Howells was enchanted by Venice’s „excellent beauty, its peerless picturesqueness, its sole and wondrous grandeur“ but at the same time he was keenly aware of the pervasive atmosphere of melancholy and decay as at Howells‘ time Venice was just a shadow of her former glorious self.
The style is a bit flowery at times but he is able to transmit to the reader his fascination with this unique city and its people.
First published in 1866, this is a look at Venice at a time before central heating and electricity. The author devotes himself to providing a true picture of Venice and Italy, even to the point of making fun of his own prejudices as a tourist. In one sentence he bemoans the lack of creature comforts, such as heated houses and doors that actually function, while in the next he writes about the beauty of his surroundings. I can just picture the poor guy, warming his hands over an oil lamp so he can write about how wretched the winter of Italy can be, while next to him on the desk is the old book that lured him there, with its wonderful descriptions of the beauties of Venice.
This is Venice in 1866 as observed by a young American diplomat - and later acclaimed author W.D. Howells. But I appreciated and loved it for its is wonderful to read - to learn what is, and is not still 'there'; to read that even in 1866 the winter chill keeps everyone sniffling w/ handkerchief to nose! I'm so happy I found this.. and I 'found' it on the bookshelves of my host as we spent the Christmas of 2010 in Venice!!
This was such a gem of a book, describing Venice in a unique period of her history. What I found most delightful is some of his asides and little jokes and small observations that felt so contemporary- I don’t think I’ve read an author from the mid 19th century and felt any kind of relatability in the way I did with this author. Of course there were elements that were very of an era, but if you know Venice at all, his descriptions of the 1860s Venice will delight in both its strangeness and familiarity. Not sure how compelling this book would be if you couldn’t picture the city fairly easily.