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The City of Falling Angels
Past Midnight: John Berendt on the Mysteries of Venice
[image]Just as John Berendt's first book, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, was settling into its remarkable four-year run on The New York Times bestseller list, he discovered a new city whose local mysteries and traditions were more than a match for Savannah, whose hothouse eccentricities he had celebrated in the first book. The new city was Venice, and he spent much of the last decade wandering through its canals and palazzos, seeking to understand a place that any native will tell you is easy to visit but hard to know. For travelers to Venice, whether by armchair or vaporetto, he has selected his 10 (actually 11) Books to Read on Venice. And he took the time to answer a few of our questions about his charming new book, The City of Falling Angels:
The lush, cloistered southern city of Savannah was the locale of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Venice, the setting for The City of Falling Angels, is vastly different. Was it the difference itself that drew you to Venice?
John Savannah and Venice actually have quite a lot in common. Both are uniquely beautiful. Both are isolated geographically, culturally, and emotionally from the world outside. Venice sits in the middle of a lagoon; Savannah is surrounded by marshes, piney woods, and the ocean. Venetians think of themselves as Venetian first, Italian second; Savannahians rarely even venture forth as far as Atlanta or Charleston. So both cities offer a writer a rich context in which to set a story, and the stories provide readers a means of escape from their own environment into another world.
I enjoyed your rather declarative author's that this is a work of nonfiction, and that you used everyone's real names. In your previous book you did use pseudonyms for some characters and you explained that you took a few small liberties in the service of the larger truth of the story. Why the change this time?
When I wrote Midnight I thought I would do a few people the favor of changing their names for the sake of privacy. But when the book came out, several of the pseudonymous characters told me they wished I'd used their real names instead. So this time, no pseudonyms. As for the storytelling liberties I took in writing Midnight, they were minor and did not change the story, but my mention of it in the author's note caused some confusion, with the result that Midnight is sometimes referred to now as a novel, which it most certainly is not. Neither is The City of Falling Angels. In fact, I dispensed with the liberties this time and made it as close to the truth as I could get it.
In The City of Falling Angels, a number of fascinating people serve as guides to the city, each with a different idea of the true nature of Venice. Who was your favorite?
I don't have a favorite, but Count Girolamo Marcello is certainly a memorable, highly quotable commentator. "Everyone in Venice is acting," he told me. "Everyone plays a role, and the role changes. The key to understanding Venetians is rhythm, the rhythm of the lagoon, the water, the tides, the waves. It's like breathing. High water, high tense. Low water, low relaxed. The tide changes every six hours."
I nodded that I understood.
"How do you see a bridge?" he went on.
"Pardon me?" I asked, "A bridge?"
"Do you see a bridge as an obstacle--as just another set of steps to climb to get from one side of a canal to the other? We Venetians do not see bridges as obstacles. To us, bridges are transitions. We go over them very slowly. They are part of the rhythm. They are the links between two parts of a theater, like changes in scenery. Our role changes as we go over bridges. We cross from one reality ... to another reality. From one street ... to another street. From one setting ... to another setting."
Once I had absorbed that notion, Count Marcello "Sunlight on a canal is reflected up through a window onto the ceiling, then from the ceiling onto a vase, and from the vase onto a glass. Which is the real sunlight? Which is the real reflection? What is true? What is not true? The answer is not so simple, because the truth can change. I can change. You can change. That is the Venice effect."
I was not terribly surprised when he later told me, "Venetians never tell the truth. We mean precisely the opposite of what we say."
Now that you know Venice well enough to be a guide yourself, what would you say to a visitor looking for insight into the character of the city?
Bere...
384 pages
First published September 30, 2005
1156 people are currently reading
12726 people want to read
About the author
John Berendt
25 books1,372 followersJohn Berendt is an American author and journalist best known for his best-selling nonfiction book Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil (1994), a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in General Nonfiction. Blending true crime and vivid portraits of Savannah, Georgia, the book became a cultural phenomenon, spending a record-breaking 216 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list and inspiring Clint Eastwood’s 1997 film adaptation.
Born in Syracuse, New York, Berendt studied English at Harvard University, where he worked on the Harvard Lampoon. He went on to serve as associate editor of Esquire and editor of New York magazine, and later wrote a long-running Esquire column. His years in Savannah, beginning in 1985, gave him intimate access to the city’s eccentric residents and the real-life murder trial at the heart of Midnight.
Berendt’s second book, The City of Falling Angels (2005), explored Venice in the aftermath of the fire that destroyed its historic opera house, La Fenice. In 2011, he published the children’s book My Baby Blue Jays. In 2024, a stage musical adaptation of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil premiered at Chicago’s Goodman Theatre, with a Broadway opening planned for 2025.
Born in Syracuse, New York, Berendt studied English at Harvard University, where he worked on the Harvard Lampoon. He went on to serve as associate editor of Esquire and editor of New York magazine, and later wrote a long-running Esquire column. His years in Savannah, beginning in 1985, gave him intimate access to the city’s eccentric residents and the real-life murder trial at the heart of Midnight.
Berendt’s second book, The City of Falling Angels (2005), explored Venice in the aftermath of the fire that destroyed its historic opera house, La Fenice. In 2011, he published the children’s book My Baby Blue Jays. In 2024, a stage musical adaptation of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil premiered at Chicago’s Goodman Theatre, with a Broadway opening planned for 2025.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,020 reviews
September 12, 2008
I started this book a few months ago, loved it, continued reading it, continued loving it, then put it down for a few months before ever finishing it. Hmm. The problem with the book is, although it paints a vivid picture of Venice, it doesn’t grab the reader like Berendt’s previous book, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Something about a burnt-down opera house just doesn’t excite the same tension and thrills that good old fashioned homicide does. As travel writing, City of Falling Angels is superb. And, without trying to be facetious or condescending, it is a lovely book to read at bedtime. No murders, ethical dilemmas, or other issues that are unsettling in the dark, but full of interesting, colorful characters; exotic, beautiful places; and fantasy lives that are just within reach. Perfect. This book is not a shot of vodka or even a can of diet coke, but it’s a very nice cup of tea or warm glass of milk.
July 25, 2007
Written by the same man who wrote Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, this book takes the reader to Venice shortly after the well-renowned Fenice Theatre burned down. Berendt offers a multiple of theories surrounding the fire, from Mafia participation to a neglectful renovation crew.
There are few cohesive lines through this book. There is the mystery surrounding the fire of the Fenice, and there are gossipy stories involving many of the locals (most of whom are actually expatriates and not native Venetians). The most interesting "soap opera" was the one involving Ezra Pound and his companion of 50+ years, Olga Rudge, and the battles she fought after Pound's death to preserve his life's works.
In what is surely to soon be considered Berendt-style, he offered insight into the lives of some interesting characters that he met, such as the Rat-Man (who made a living designing gourmet rat poisons with different ingredients depending on the locale in which the poison was needed), a walking Plant Man, a depressed homosexual poet who loved people, etc. Not unlike Midnight it seems Berendt thinks his popularity comes with the inclusion of eccentrics. However, unlike Midnight there were too many stories that never quite came together in the end. If one were to consider this a book of essays as opposed to one work of nonfiction, then perhaps it would have packed a different punch.
His descriptions of Venice, however, were impressive and lends a certain degree of mystery to all of the stories, which, surely, was his intention all along but somehow managed to not accomplish just that entirely.
There are few cohesive lines through this book. There is the mystery surrounding the fire of the Fenice, and there are gossipy stories involving many of the locals (most of whom are actually expatriates and not native Venetians). The most interesting "soap opera" was the one involving Ezra Pound and his companion of 50+ years, Olga Rudge, and the battles she fought after Pound's death to preserve his life's works.
In what is surely to soon be considered Berendt-style, he offered insight into the lives of some interesting characters that he met, such as the Rat-Man (who made a living designing gourmet rat poisons with different ingredients depending on the locale in which the poison was needed), a walking Plant Man, a depressed homosexual poet who loved people, etc. Not unlike Midnight it seems Berendt thinks his popularity comes with the inclusion of eccentrics. However, unlike Midnight there were too many stories that never quite came together in the end. If one were to consider this a book of essays as opposed to one work of nonfiction, then perhaps it would have packed a different punch.
His descriptions of Venice, however, were impressive and lends a certain degree of mystery to all of the stories, which, surely, was his intention all along but somehow managed to not accomplish just that entirely.
February 21, 2015
In The City Of Falling Angels, John Berendt tries to do for Venice what he did for Savannah, Georgia, in his blockbuster hit Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evil. Just as the earlier book began with a murder, this one opens with something almost as compelling: a fire that, in 1996, destroyed the historic La Fenice Opera House and almost destroyed Venice itself.
The cause of the fire is considered arson by some, negligence by others, and there's talk that the Mafia could be connected. But the book is less about the outcome of the investigation as it is the people who inhabit the island, from old world nobles who live in palazzos along the Grand Canal to American expats and various artists, artisans and simple tradespeople.
Berendt - who coincidentally showed up in the city three days after the fire - is a shrewd observer, and when he's describing people and places, there's lots of drama and humour. Particularly entertaining is the portrait of the man who makes his living concocting specialized rat poisons for various cities.
What Berendt lacks here, however, is a compelling villain, someone mysterious and sinister like his first book's Jim Williams. There's also no one as shamelessly self-promoting and outrageous as the Lady Chablis, the drag queen who became a minor celebrity after Midnight's success.
You get the feeling here that the author was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of history and background he had to impart. Nowhere is this clearer than in the virtually unreadable chapter about Ezra Pound, his wife and his mistress.
Perhaps it's the language barrier (a glossary of words and names comes in handy) or the fact that Venetians are a protective, contradictory people, but the book doesn't come to life fully.
Still, travellers wanting the scoop on the real Venice - there's barely a mention of St. Mark's Square - will want to pick this up.
Originally published in NOW Magazine: nowtoronto.com/art-and-books/books/ci...
The cause of the fire is considered arson by some, negligence by others, and there's talk that the Mafia could be connected. But the book is less about the outcome of the investigation as it is the people who inhabit the island, from old world nobles who live in palazzos along the Grand Canal to American expats and various artists, artisans and simple tradespeople.
Berendt - who coincidentally showed up in the city three days after the fire - is a shrewd observer, and when he's describing people and places, there's lots of drama and humour. Particularly entertaining is the portrait of the man who makes his living concocting specialized rat poisons for various cities.
What Berendt lacks here, however, is a compelling villain, someone mysterious and sinister like his first book's Jim Williams. There's also no one as shamelessly self-promoting and outrageous as the Lady Chablis, the drag queen who became a minor celebrity after Midnight's success.
You get the feeling here that the author was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of history and background he had to impart. Nowhere is this clearer than in the virtually unreadable chapter about Ezra Pound, his wife and his mistress.
Perhaps it's the language barrier (a glossary of words and names comes in handy) or the fact that Venetians are a protective, contradictory people, but the book doesn't come to life fully.
Still, travellers wanting the scoop on the real Venice - there's barely a mention of St. Mark's Square - will want to pick this up.
Originally published in NOW Magazine: nowtoronto.com/art-and-books/books/ci...
July 17, 2009
John Berendt wonderfully digs beneath the surface of Venice in The City of Falling Angels.. He provides much history of not only the art and buildings of Venice, but also of many Venetian families. He manages to do this all in such a casual way that one forgets it's non-fiction. I'm only sorry, I didn't read this prior to visiting Venice.
One of my favorite lines in the book, describing Venice:
“On one occasion I set about testing this notion by concocting a game called “photo roulette,” the object was to walk around the city taking photographs at unplanned moments — whenever a church bell rang or at every sighting of a dog or cat — to see how often, standing at an arbitrary spot, one would be confronted by a view of exceptional beauty. The answer — almost always.”
I felt like that in Europe ALL the time. *Sigh*
One of my favorite lines in the book, describing Venice:
“On one occasion I set about testing this notion by concocting a game called “photo roulette,” the object was to walk around the city taking photographs at unplanned moments — whenever a church bell rang or at every sighting of a dog or cat — to see how often, standing at an arbitrary spot, one would be confronted by a view of exceptional beauty. The answer — almost always.”
I felt like that in Europe ALL the time. *Sigh*
June 26, 2025
“Venetians never tell the truth. We mean precisely the opposite of what we say.” (2.5 stars)
In THE CITY OF FALLING ANGELS, John Berendt returns to the narrative style that made his debut, MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL, a bestseller. This time, Venice is the city under his focus, a place as mysterious and ornate as Savannah was gothic and lush. Berendt explores Venice by embedding himself in its culture, peeling back the layers of masks (both literal and figurative) to expose the personalities that define the city for him. I have been to Savannah numerous times so I could appreciate how Berendt captured that place. Having never been to Venice I can only assume he has done the same here.
The book opens in 1996, just days after the historic La Fenice opera house is gutted by fire. Berendt uses this tragedy as the book’s structural anchor. While the mystery of the arson investigation weaves in and out of the narrative, the focus is less on whodunit and more on how various Venetians respond to the loss and the broader question of Venice’s fading grandeur. From city officials and preservationists to eccentric expatriates and self-mythologizing artists, the characters surrounding the Fenice act out the larger drama of a city wrestling with identity, tradition, and reinvention. While the fire gives the book its urgency, Berendt's aim is broader. He’s documenting a city in slow motion decline, or perhaps perpetual transformation, caught between its past and its future.
As with his previous text, Berendt focuses on character sketches. We meet colorful figures like Count Girolamo Marcello, a patrician desperate to maintain his family’s stature; Daniel Curtis, an American heir; and the glass sculptor Archimede Seguso, whose grief at the opera house’s destruction inspires a haunting series of works. And these are just a few of the folks one encounters in this book.
Quotes:
• “Venice is a place where the past is always present, where the line between history and myth is deliciously blurred.”
• “In Venice, being eccentric isn’t an affliction — it’s almost a civic duty.”
• “Venetians never really trust anyone who wasn’t born within the sound of their own church bells.”
• “Venice seemed to be living on borrowed time — beautiful, yes, but always threatening to vanish beneath its own reflection.”
THE CITY OF FALLING ANGELS is a meandering text. But for those who enjoy decent writing, eccentric characters, and a poetic examination on the decay of a once-mighty city, Berendt’s Venice is a fascinating destination. This book is less a linear story than a mosaic of personalities, place, and atmosphere, where the city of Venice becomes the stage.
In THE CITY OF FALLING ANGELS, John Berendt returns to the narrative style that made his debut, MIDNIGHT IN THE GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL, a bestseller. This time, Venice is the city under his focus, a place as mysterious and ornate as Savannah was gothic and lush. Berendt explores Venice by embedding himself in its culture, peeling back the layers of masks (both literal and figurative) to expose the personalities that define the city for him. I have been to Savannah numerous times so I could appreciate how Berendt captured that place. Having never been to Venice I can only assume he has done the same here.
The book opens in 1996, just days after the historic La Fenice opera house is gutted by fire. Berendt uses this tragedy as the book’s structural anchor. While the mystery of the arson investigation weaves in and out of the narrative, the focus is less on whodunit and more on how various Venetians respond to the loss and the broader question of Venice’s fading grandeur. From city officials and preservationists to eccentric expatriates and self-mythologizing artists, the characters surrounding the Fenice act out the larger drama of a city wrestling with identity, tradition, and reinvention. While the fire gives the book its urgency, Berendt's aim is broader. He’s documenting a city in slow motion decline, or perhaps perpetual transformation, caught between its past and its future.
As with his previous text, Berendt focuses on character sketches. We meet colorful figures like Count Girolamo Marcello, a patrician desperate to maintain his family’s stature; Daniel Curtis, an American heir; and the glass sculptor Archimede Seguso, whose grief at the opera house’s destruction inspires a haunting series of works. And these are just a few of the folks one encounters in this book.
Quotes:
• “Venice is a place where the past is always present, where the line between history and myth is deliciously blurred.”
• “In Venice, being eccentric isn’t an affliction — it’s almost a civic duty.”
• “Venetians never really trust anyone who wasn’t born within the sound of their own church bells.”
• “Venice seemed to be living on borrowed time — beautiful, yes, but always threatening to vanish beneath its own reflection.”
THE CITY OF FALLING ANGELS is a meandering text. But for those who enjoy decent writing, eccentric characters, and a poetic examination on the decay of a once-mighty city, Berendt’s Venice is a fascinating destination. This book is less a linear story than a mosaic of personalities, place, and atmosphere, where the city of Venice becomes the stage.
May 17, 2025
An entertaining book about the beautiful city of Venice and the colourful characters who have the great fortune to live there.
It's certainly not a tourist book as many of the major landmarks barely get a mention.
Instead, this is a book that digs beneath the surface in an attempt to find out what makes the city and its inhabitants tick.
Not as compelling as Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, but still a good read.
It's certainly not a tourist book as many of the major landmarks barely get a mention.
Instead, this is a book that digs beneath the surface in an attempt to find out what makes the city and its inhabitants tick.
Not as compelling as Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, but still a good read.
January 1, 2015
This is by the same author of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil: A Savannah Story.
After he left Savannah Berendt went and lived in Venice, Italy for a decade. This is very similar to his earlier novel, he lives in and gets to know a coastal city following a noteworthy crime, this time instead of a murder, he follows the investigation of the burning of a historical opera house.
Also like the Savannah book, he sheds a revealing light on the decadence, selfishness and occasional silliness of socialites and royalty, actual or merely pretenders. Excellent writing in a journalistic yet conversational tone, very entertaining.
After he left Savannah Berendt went and lived in Venice, Italy for a decade. This is very similar to his earlier novel, he lives in and gets to know a coastal city following a noteworthy crime, this time instead of a murder, he follows the investigation of the burning of a historical opera house.
Also like the Savannah book, he sheds a revealing light on the decadence, selfishness and occasional silliness of socialites and royalty, actual or merely pretenders. Excellent writing in a journalistic yet conversational tone, very entertaining.
July 23, 2021
This wasn't a historical dive into the magical city of Venice that I hoped for, but a worthy nonfiction read nonetheless. Almost all the stories occurred in the later half of the 20th C. He explores the culture of Venice and focuses on many prominent Venetians or Ex-Pats living in Venice. As he meets with individuals there is some historical description as the families & their palazzos go back centuries.
The thread that moves in and out of many of the various stories is the horrific fire that destroyed the Gran Teatro La Fenice, Venice's opera house. The author starts out with this event of Jan 1996 and its impact of the city and its people.
I found most of this book compelling and immensely readable.
The thread that moves in and out of many of the various stories is the horrific fire that destroyed the Gran Teatro La Fenice, Venice's opera house. The author starts out with this event of Jan 1996 and its impact of the city and its people.
I found most of this book compelling and immensely readable.
May 20, 2010
In 1996, a fire broke out somewhere inside the empty Fenice opera house in Venice. The opera house was being restored, and was supposed to reopen within a month. When the fire broke out, a million things went swiftly and horribly wrong: the interior of the opera house was littered with open paint cans, chemicals, and cloths, making accidental fire an inevitability, and the fire alarm was disabled. The canal next to the Fenice had been drained recently, and because of this the fire boats weren't even able to reach the building at first, and then had no immediate water supply. They had to collect water from the Grand Canal and bring it over by helicopter - by then, the opera house was in flames and there was no way to stop it. The fire department had to focus on keeping the fire from spreading to the rest of the very flammable city, and as a result the inhabitants of Venice were forced to watch, weeping, as the centuries-old opera house burned to the ground in front of them.
That's the opening scene of The City of Falling Angels, and it's the best part of the book. Berendt describes people watching the destruction of the opera house as they try to keep their own homes from catching fire, and the most anyone can do is watch the fire and cry, while every now and then we get lines like, "A deafening crash resounded in the depths of the Fenice. The great crystal chandelier had fallen to the floor." (Fair warning: if you don't understand why people would weep at the destruction of an opera house, this is not your book)
Three days later, enter John Berendt, who sees the effects the Fenice fire has had on the residents of Venice, and decides that it might make a good subject for a book. He spends the next eight years living in Venice to interview people about the fire and everything else in their lives, because he's John Berendt and he can do that. He interviews judges, restoration experts, lawyers, and just about everyone who witnessed the fire (they include an Italian count and an elderly glassblower). People suspect that the Fenice fire was arson, possibly the result of the Mafia. The investigation is long and very interesting, and it's the start of a really good mystery.
Only the start of one, unfortunately. If this book had just been about the Fenice fire, the investigation, and the restoration process, it would have been really interesting and illuminating. But Berendt just can't stay focused. He meanders from one plot to the next, like he's trying to keep up with the "Look How Many Zany Eccentrics I Can Find" cred he established in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Although here, "Zany Eccentrics" is replaced by "Obscenely Rich Expatriate Snobs." One man Berendt meets at a party excitedly explains to him how an aristocracy is the best form of government, because then all the good leadership qualities get passed down through one family. Another woman belongs to a family of expats who first moved to Venice in the 1800s when Boston got too goddamned Irish for their tastes (Berendt states this more diplomatically, but that's the gist).
He can't focus his story on the Fenice. He talks about the fire and the investigation for a while, then suddenly he's spending fifteen pages telling us about a glassblower's family drama. Then thirty-eight pages on the previously-mentioned expat family. Then forty-nine pages on Ezra Pound's aging mistress and her efforts to keep his papers and letters from being stolen by the so-called "Ezra Pound Foundation." Here we break for a short revisit to the Fenice fire, and then he spends forty-two pages telling us all about the drama between two guys in charge of the American non-profit group Save Venice. Then thirty pages on a poet who killed himself, or maybe not.
Yes, I counted all of those pages. No, none of those side stories have anything to do with the Fenice fire. No, none of them are even mildly interesting, except maybe the Pound one. Yes, every single conflict Berendt shows us is explored in nitpicking depth, and then dropped without a satisfying conclusion. Yes, it is irritating.
I think, ultimately, the problem with this book was that it was presented wrong. I went into it expecting an in-depth investigation of a real-life mystery: the Fenice fire. Instead, I got a wandering, often overly-detailed look at the inhabitants of Venice and their daily drama. Which is fine - if that's what I'd expected to get out of this book. Had Berendt written this book as a series of essays on Venice, as another reviewer recommended, that would have been good. If he had presented the book as a portrait of Venetians and been more clear about the fact that the Fenice fire was more of a subplot, that would have also been fine. As things are, however, I was not expecting most of what I was shown in this book, and it was disappointing.
That being said, I really really want to go to Venice now.
That's the opening scene of The City of Falling Angels, and it's the best part of the book. Berendt describes people watching the destruction of the opera house as they try to keep their own homes from catching fire, and the most anyone can do is watch the fire and cry, while every now and then we get lines like, "A deafening crash resounded in the depths of the Fenice. The great crystal chandelier had fallen to the floor." (Fair warning: if you don't understand why people would weep at the destruction of an opera house, this is not your book)
Three days later, enter John Berendt, who sees the effects the Fenice fire has had on the residents of Venice, and decides that it might make a good subject for a book. He spends the next eight years living in Venice to interview people about the fire and everything else in their lives, because he's John Berendt and he can do that. He interviews judges, restoration experts, lawyers, and just about everyone who witnessed the fire (they include an Italian count and an elderly glassblower). People suspect that the Fenice fire was arson, possibly the result of the Mafia. The investigation is long and very interesting, and it's the start of a really good mystery.
Only the start of one, unfortunately. If this book had just been about the Fenice fire, the investigation, and the restoration process, it would have been really interesting and illuminating. But Berendt just can't stay focused. He meanders from one plot to the next, like he's trying to keep up with the "Look How Many Zany Eccentrics I Can Find" cred he established in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Although here, "Zany Eccentrics" is replaced by "Obscenely Rich Expatriate Snobs." One man Berendt meets at a party excitedly explains to him how an aristocracy is the best form of government, because then all the good leadership qualities get passed down through one family. Another woman belongs to a family of expats who first moved to Venice in the 1800s when Boston got too goddamned Irish for their tastes (Berendt states this more diplomatically, but that's the gist).
He can't focus his story on the Fenice. He talks about the fire and the investigation for a while, then suddenly he's spending fifteen pages telling us about a glassblower's family drama. Then thirty-eight pages on the previously-mentioned expat family. Then forty-nine pages on Ezra Pound's aging mistress and her efforts to keep his papers and letters from being stolen by the so-called "Ezra Pound Foundation." Here we break for a short revisit to the Fenice fire, and then he spends forty-two pages telling us all about the drama between two guys in charge of the American non-profit group Save Venice. Then thirty pages on a poet who killed himself, or maybe not.
Yes, I counted all of those pages. No, none of those side stories have anything to do with the Fenice fire. No, none of them are even mildly interesting, except maybe the Pound one. Yes, every single conflict Berendt shows us is explored in nitpicking depth, and then dropped without a satisfying conclusion. Yes, it is irritating.
I think, ultimately, the problem with this book was that it was presented wrong. I went into it expecting an in-depth investigation of a real-life mystery: the Fenice fire. Instead, I got a wandering, often overly-detailed look at the inhabitants of Venice and their daily drama. Which is fine - if that's what I'd expected to get out of this book. Had Berendt written this book as a series of essays on Venice, as another reviewer recommended, that would have been good. If he had presented the book as a portrait of Venetians and been more clear about the fact that the Fenice fire was more of a subplot, that would have also been fine. As things are, however, I was not expecting most of what I was shown in this book, and it was disappointing.
That being said, I really really want to go to Venice now.
February 22, 2017
The author, as he did in his smash best-seller Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, begins with a major event and then builds a multi-layered story of the city and people involved. In this case it is Venice, Italy and the destruction by fire of the historic Fenice Opera House. The Fenice was a beloved landmark and its destruction was heartbreaking for the Venetians. Was it arson or was it an accident caused by careless workmen?
The author moved to Venice three days after the fire to write a book about the decay and the dedication of Venetians to preserve their water city and instead decides to "investigate" the fire. His quest takes the reader through Venice and we meet some of the fascinating people who live there (and once lived there such as Ezra Pound and Robert Browning). It soon becomes obvious that the lifestyle of Venetians is like that of no other city in Italy and their rules of social etiquette are still similar to those of 100 years ago. It seems that every other person is a Count or Countess and those hereditary titles still carry serious importance in the workings of the city.
This is a love letter to the city and its people as well as an investigation of the cause of the Fenice Opera House fire. A very interesting and personal book.
The author moved to Venice three days after the fire to write a book about the decay and the dedication of Venetians to preserve their water city and instead decides to "investigate" the fire. His quest takes the reader through Venice and we meet some of the fascinating people who live there (and once lived there such as Ezra Pound and Robert Browning). It soon becomes obvious that the lifestyle of Venetians is like that of no other city in Italy and their rules of social etiquette are still similar to those of 100 years ago. It seems that every other person is a Count or Countess and those hereditary titles still carry serious importance in the workings of the city.
This is a love letter to the city and its people as well as an investigation of the cause of the Fenice Opera House fire. A very interesting and personal book.
November 14, 2007
This book is actually one I like to read again and again. John Berendt is a former magazine writer and his first book "Midnight In The Garden of Good And Evil" was a fascinating peek at Savannah society as well as a peek inside the judicial system - following trials of Jim Williams for murder - tried multiple times for the same murder and acquitted each time.
"The City of Falling Angels" turns it attention to the ancient Italian city of Venice, and the tragic fire that destroyed the famous opera house there. This is a true story and it covers not only the fire, but several scandals that rocked Venetian society. It is populated with characters that are too colorful to be real, but indeed, they are.
Read this book.
"The City of Falling Angels" turns it attention to the ancient Italian city of Venice, and the tragic fire that destroyed the famous opera house there. This is a true story and it covers not only the fire, but several scandals that rocked Venetian society. It is populated with characters that are too colorful to be real, but indeed, they are.
Read this book.
August 25, 2007
I was so glad when this book was over. It was quite a chore to listen to on audio, but I think it would have been the same for print. The author moves to Venice and then infiltrates the locals' worlds. We learn a lot about the burning of the Fenice opera house, Ezra Pound's estate, and everyday life in Venice. I enjoyed learning that everyone walks in Venice--there are no cars. However, I felt that the author went into way more detail about the Fenice fire than I needed to know. It was just hard to hold my interest, but I hate not finishing a book. The book was well-written, but I would recommend it only if you have a deep, abiding interest in Italy or Venice.
July 15, 2007
An American walks around Venice trying to explain its peculiarities. He has access very few other Americans would be granted--Unfortunately who comes out looking odd here, in my opinion, is the other Americans expatriates who call the place home. The Ezra Pound and Save Venice incidents largely involve dubious Americans with huge egos that need stroking. The absurdities are worth reading about particularly if you are aware of NYC socialites whose names are within the book.
I enjoyed the book but not as much as Berendt's preceding tome to Savannah (which admittedly he had a hard time ending and Clint Eastwood had a harder time filming). I am now putting Venice higher on my "to visit" list and now that Berendt's identified the charms of the off-season when Venice is strictly for Venetians. .I'm afraid they wont be alone anymore to enjoy their town for those 3 lovely weeks.
I enjoyed the book but not as much as Berendt's preceding tome to Savannah (which admittedly he had a hard time ending and Clint Eastwood had a harder time filming). I am now putting Venice higher on my "to visit" list and now that Berendt's identified the charms of the off-season when Venice is strictly for Venetians. .I'm afraid they wont be alone anymore to enjoy their town for those 3 lovely weeks.
July 16, 2007
Need to reread this one again. I picked up this book and bought it mainly because of my first memory of Venice. It was October of 1997 during my honeymoon and my husband and I had just arrived and were trying to find our Venetian hotel. We were wandering aimlessly through the small passageways and streets of Venice up and over canals; we were hopelessy lost, and we stumbled upon the ruins of La Fenice. The famed opera house had burned in January, 1996 but there had been no change to the site since the fire. It was a foggy night, and the image of the decrepit walls of the opera house standing through the mist as we walked through the square left a strong imprint on my mind.
This book tells of the fire, and the subsequent drama to rebuild and restore the Fenice, while also taking into account the fascinating lives of Venice residents.
This book tells of the fire, and the subsequent drama to rebuild and restore the Fenice, while also taking into account the fascinating lives of Venice residents.
September 4, 2013
I didn't finish the book, but from what I read (about 3/4ths) I didn't like it, except for the Ezra Pound section - although I didn't really see the connection with the Fenice theater burning.
The book reminded me of a never-ending Dominick Dunne piece for "Vanity Fair" with its continuous name-dropping and irrelevant gossip - name dropping is only fun when you know who the people are! Alas, I'm not up on Venice society.
However, the writing itself - the use of language - as expected was wonderful, as Bernendt is an excellent writer. I just didn't like the content.
The book reminded me of a never-ending Dominick Dunne piece for "Vanity Fair" with its continuous name-dropping and irrelevant gossip - name dropping is only fun when you know who the people are! Alas, I'm not up on Venice society.
However, the writing itself - the use of language - as expected was wonderful, as Bernendt is an excellent writer. I just didn't like the content.
November 13, 2014
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 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.
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.
March 12, 2008
THE CITY OF FALLING ANGELS (Non-Fiction-Venice, Italy-Cont) – VG+
Berendt, John – Standalone
The Penguin Press, 2005, US Hardcover – ISBN: 1594200580
First Sentence: “Everyone in Venice is acting,” Count Girolamo Marcello told me.
In January 1996, La Fenice (the Phoenix) was destroyed by fire. Was it an accident, or was it arson? Berendt’s book is a non-fiction look at more than the investigation, but a true study of the history, culture and people of Venice.
I loved this book. No, it’s not on the same level as Berendt’s first book, “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil,” but it’s a very different book. “Midnight” was about a murder and followed a very specific cast of characters. In this book, the central character is the city of Venice and it was fascinating. Berendt excels at sense of place so real with the city. I really did have a sense of the lady beneath of veil of whom one catches intriguing glances. I loved learning about some of the history of the people; Ezra Pound and his mistress Olga, the glassblower and his sons and part about Francesco da Mosto, who hosted “Italy Top to Toe” on the Travel Channel recently, about the politics and how the city runs, or doesn’t, and the dissension within the organization Save Venice. All the sub-stories wound about as do the canals of Venice and I was enthralled. I am not normally a non-fiction reader, but this was a one-sitting read for me.
Berendt, John – Standalone
The Penguin Press, 2005, US Hardcover – ISBN: 1594200580
First Sentence: “Everyone in Venice is acting,” Count Girolamo Marcello told me.
In January 1996, La Fenice (the Phoenix) was destroyed by fire. Was it an accident, or was it arson? Berendt’s book is a non-fiction look at more than the investigation, but a true study of the history, culture and people of Venice.
I loved this book. No, it’s not on the same level as Berendt’s first book, “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil,” but it’s a very different book. “Midnight” was about a murder and followed a very specific cast of characters. In this book, the central character is the city of Venice and it was fascinating. Berendt excels at sense of place so real with the city. I really did have a sense of the lady beneath of veil of whom one catches intriguing glances. I loved learning about some of the history of the people; Ezra Pound and his mistress Olga, the glassblower and his sons and part about Francesco da Mosto, who hosted “Italy Top to Toe” on the Travel Channel recently, about the politics and how the city runs, or doesn’t, and the dissension within the organization Save Venice. All the sub-stories wound about as do the canals of Venice and I was enthralled. I am not normally a non-fiction reader, but this was a one-sitting read for me.
February 9, 2025
I was misled believing that this book would set me up on a lurid goosechase: of where I would be taken in for a thrill ride down a gondola in Venice looking for the perpetrators of the Fenice fire of 1996 (eventually destroyed by arson).
I actually picked this book up in 2005 when it first out and eventually read it six years later. It has its moments, of interesting vignettes of Venetians' living during the fire and trial of the arsonists.
Two vignettes stand out the most: The charming chapter "The Rat Man of Treviso" of a famous rat poison maker who mixes his poisons with human food; and the chapter "The Man Who Loved Others", a haunting tribute to little-known Italian poet, Mario Stefani, who hanged himself out of loneliness; and the gentle fruitseller whom he leaves his fortune to, and eventually becomes a suspect in foul play.
Other than that, the book is part travelogue, part exploration of literary giants who lived in Venice (Erza Pound and Henry James) come to mind; but it lacks the gorgeousness and the immediacy of "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil."
I actually picked this book up in 2005 when it first out and eventually read it six years later. It has its moments, of interesting vignettes of Venetians' living during the fire and trial of the arsonists.
Two vignettes stand out the most: The charming chapter "The Rat Man of Treviso" of a famous rat poison maker who mixes his poisons with human food; and the chapter "The Man Who Loved Others", a haunting tribute to little-known Italian poet, Mario Stefani, who hanged himself out of loneliness; and the gentle fruitseller whom he leaves his fortune to, and eventually becomes a suspect in foul play.
Other than that, the book is part travelogue, part exploration of literary giants who lived in Venice (Erza Pound and Henry James) come to mind; but it lacks the gorgeousness and the immediacy of "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil."
March 18, 2009
I love Berendt's style of writing and this is very well done. Like his previous nonfictional work, "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" the author takes an event, (this time the fire at the Fenice, the Venice Opera House in 1996) investigates it and creates a story he, as the author, and we the reader, all become intrigued by. As always there is a memorable cast of characters. Like Savannah in his previous work, Venice takes on its own identity and that is critical to the plot. The artists, politicians, philanthropists, tradespeople, and the European nobility all become essential to the ultimate dysfunction of rebuilding this Venetian architectural treasure. The characters are less eccentric, thus less fun than in his previous work, so this book lacks some of the humor which made "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" so unforgettable. There is no Lady Chablis! Nonetheless highly recommended, especially for those planning a trip to Italy and Venice.
June 16, 2019
Lightning DOES strike twice, though perhaps not for John Berendt.
The author is best known for writing the mega-bestseller (and Pulitzer Prize-finalist) Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, which stayed on the New York Times bestseller list for YEARS. Berendt had the great fortune of hitting it out of the park with his very first book, or was that actually a great misfortune, as anything Berendt could hope to write subsequently would pale in comparison to Midnight's otherworldly success?
In the 24 years since "Midnight" was published, Berendt has only written one real follow-up and that's 2005's "The City of Falling Angels". By any measure, this book was a success. But compared to "Midnight", it was DOA.
The books are written in such a similar fashion it's clear they're by the same author, but if you could manage to separate them and just forget about "Midnight", you would actually probably really like "The City of Falling Angels". But read as the follow-up to that book it can't help but disappoint.
As mentioned, both books are written in the same format, with the leitmotif of the larger story framing what are a series of other stories. In "Midnight", it's the shooting of Danny Hansford and the subsequent murder trial. In "Angels" it's the burning of the La Fenice opera house and the resulting investigation.
The former works beautifully because we've already spent over 100 pages with the key players by the time the actual shooting takes place (though this is on account of creative liberties Berendt took, namely changing the order in which the events took place). "Angels", however, opens with the burning of the opera house. The investigation into possible arson that finishes out the story is, in my opinion, the weakest of the several stories included.
What we're left with then is a fascinating, multi-layered look at Venice and its people, surrounding which stands a somewhat wobbly structure. Take any of the other stories Berendt includes here — I'm partial myself to the rivalries fleshed out in the "Save Venice" organization and, in particular, to the dastardly theft of letters and other valuable papers belonging to Olga Rudge, the former mistress of renowned American poet Ezra Pound — and they are far more fascinating than the central story of what led the Fenice to go up in flames.
If the pieces that make up "The City of Falling Angels" don't add up to form a cohesive whole, then that's only appropriate given that the setting is Venice, a city that feels at war not just with the outside world, but at war with itself. Even today there is a sizable number of Venetians who want to exist outside of the Italian state, who want to limit tourism or ban it entirely, who hate all that Venice has become.
It's a city of contradictions, but it isn't Savannah. In some sense, Savannah is and always was far more exotic than Venice, a city that has been written about in travelogues and novels, depicted in photographs and paintings, seemingly since its inception. You don't need to have visited Venice to know it. You just need to have read Thomas Mann, Henry James, or Italo Calvino, to have seen the work of Canaletto, to grasp it. Contrast that with Savannah, a sleepy Georgian port city that, before Berendt came along, saw relatively few visitors.
There's just not a whole lot you can say about Venice that hasn't been said before. Yes, Venetians are gossipy, contradictory, and occasionally quite eccentric individuals, but as someone who spent a year and a half living in Puglia and, later, Rome, they sound much like other Italians.
John Berendt still makes Venice sound utterly fascinating because he is a terrific writer. While I would rather him write about those under-the-radar places, if you have to spend seven or eight years in a place in order to write about it (which is how long Berendt lived in Savannah and Venice, respectfully) then you clearly want to choose a place you'd actually like to live in.
Still, reading this, I couldn't help but think how much more interesting it would have been had Berendt written about Perugia (an Italian city far less known to outsiders) and the murder of Meredith Kercher/subsequent trial of American Amanda Knox. Now that would have been a worthy follow-up to "Midnight"!
While "The City of Falling Angels" is a compelling read, to fully enjoy it you have to forget about the book that came before.
The author is best known for writing the mega-bestseller (and Pulitzer Prize-finalist) Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, which stayed on the New York Times bestseller list for YEARS. Berendt had the great fortune of hitting it out of the park with his very first book, or was that actually a great misfortune, as anything Berendt could hope to write subsequently would pale in comparison to Midnight's otherworldly success?
In the 24 years since "Midnight" was published, Berendt has only written one real follow-up and that's 2005's "The City of Falling Angels". By any measure, this book was a success. But compared to "Midnight", it was DOA.
The books are written in such a similar fashion it's clear they're by the same author, but if you could manage to separate them and just forget about "Midnight", you would actually probably really like "The City of Falling Angels". But read as the follow-up to that book it can't help but disappoint.
As mentioned, both books are written in the same format, with the leitmotif of the larger story framing what are a series of other stories. In "Midnight", it's the shooting of Danny Hansford and the subsequent murder trial. In "Angels" it's the burning of the La Fenice opera house and the resulting investigation.
The former works beautifully because we've already spent over 100 pages with the key players by the time the actual shooting takes place (though this is on account of creative liberties Berendt took, namely changing the order in which the events took place). "Angels", however, opens with the burning of the opera house. The investigation into possible arson that finishes out the story is, in my opinion, the weakest of the several stories included.
What we're left with then is a fascinating, multi-layered look at Venice and its people, surrounding which stands a somewhat wobbly structure. Take any of the other stories Berendt includes here — I'm partial myself to the rivalries fleshed out in the "Save Venice" organization and, in particular, to the dastardly theft of letters and other valuable papers belonging to Olga Rudge, the former mistress of renowned American poet Ezra Pound — and they are far more fascinating than the central story of what led the Fenice to go up in flames.
If the pieces that make up "The City of Falling Angels" don't add up to form a cohesive whole, then that's only appropriate given that the setting is Venice, a city that feels at war not just with the outside world, but at war with itself. Even today there is a sizable number of Venetians who want to exist outside of the Italian state, who want to limit tourism or ban it entirely, who hate all that Venice has become.
It's a city of contradictions, but it isn't Savannah. In some sense, Savannah is and always was far more exotic than Venice, a city that has been written about in travelogues and novels, depicted in photographs and paintings, seemingly since its inception. You don't need to have visited Venice to know it. You just need to have read Thomas Mann, Henry James, or Italo Calvino, to have seen the work of Canaletto, to grasp it. Contrast that with Savannah, a sleepy Georgian port city that, before Berendt came along, saw relatively few visitors.
There's just not a whole lot you can say about Venice that hasn't been said before. Yes, Venetians are gossipy, contradictory, and occasionally quite eccentric individuals, but as someone who spent a year and a half living in Puglia and, later, Rome, they sound much like other Italians.
John Berendt still makes Venice sound utterly fascinating because he is a terrific writer. While I would rather him write about those under-the-radar places, if you have to spend seven or eight years in a place in order to write about it (which is how long Berendt lived in Savannah and Venice, respectfully) then you clearly want to choose a place you'd actually like to live in.
Still, reading this, I couldn't help but think how much more interesting it would have been had Berendt written about Perugia (an Italian city far less known to outsiders) and the murder of Meredith Kercher/subsequent trial of American Amanda Knox. Now that would have been a worthy follow-up to "Midnight"!
While "The City of Falling Angels" is a compelling read, to fully enjoy it you have to forget about the book that came before.
July 1, 2019
Gossipy history of Venice in the late 20th century with a focus specifically on the destruction of La Fenice in a great fire and its subsequent reconstruction. Entertaining, but ultimately rather pointless.
The similarity hadn't occurred to me when I picked this up, but as I was reading, I realized that in 10 years or so a similar book may well be written about Paris and Notre Dame Cathedral.
The similarity hadn't occurred to me when I picked this up, but as I was reading, I realized that in 10 years or so a similar book may well be written about Paris and Notre Dame Cathedral.
November 29, 2008
*Midnight* was such an entertaining, intriguing book that it would only be natural to go looking for more from Berendt. Sadly, this book isn’t it.
Though Berendt tries to give *Falling Angels* a convincing through-line (and you’d think it would have one – the built-in whodunit of the burning of the Fenice Theatre), the thing simply never gels.
In part, it’s not Berendt’s fault; it’s the fault of “reality.” In typical Italian fashion, there’s no clear good guy or bad guy; the guy convicted for arson may or may not have done it (and it may or may not have been arson); the rebuilding dragged on for years while Berendt’s informants inconveniently died, and so on.
But in part it is precisely his fault, because he puts his focus in entirely the wrong place: on the spoiled, backbiting, nasty, venal, social climbing, ultrarich jerks (for the most part) who orbited the Fenice project in specific and who populate Italian “high society” in general.
Granted, there’s no snob like an Italian snob (unless it’s an English or American expat snob, and that’s a whole ‘nuther ball game), but Berendt seems to have had an especially difficult time finding one decent or likeable person in his cast of liars, petty criminals, reprobates, butt-kissers, tin gods, name droppers, arrivistes, and plutocrats. Really, barely one.
Nor does the book have anything particularly revealing to say about Venice, the Veneziani, or Italy (notwithstanding jacket copy to the contrary), because Berendt spent all his time in an echelon so esoteric, nihilistic, and cannibalistic that *Falling Angels* ends up being a book about the generic rich-and-bored (in any city, on any continent) and not about Venice or the Fenice.
As a result, it’s hard to know who could be interested in what amounts to 400 pages of society-page gossip about people you don’t know, aren’t ever going to know, and don’t especially *want* to know, but that’s what the book—deprived of a true mystery to explore—devolves into.
After all the time, effort, and money Berendt and his publisher sunk into Venice, I’m sure it would have been wrenching to walk away and say, “There’s no book here,” but that would very likely have been the honorable thing to do.
Though Berendt tries to give *Falling Angels* a convincing through-line (and you’d think it would have one – the built-in whodunit of the burning of the Fenice Theatre), the thing simply never gels.
In part, it’s not Berendt’s fault; it’s the fault of “reality.” In typical Italian fashion, there’s no clear good guy or bad guy; the guy convicted for arson may or may not have done it (and it may or may not have been arson); the rebuilding dragged on for years while Berendt’s informants inconveniently died, and so on.
But in part it is precisely his fault, because he puts his focus in entirely the wrong place: on the spoiled, backbiting, nasty, venal, social climbing, ultrarich jerks (for the most part) who orbited the Fenice project in specific and who populate Italian “high society” in general.
Granted, there’s no snob like an Italian snob (unless it’s an English or American expat snob, and that’s a whole ‘nuther ball game), but Berendt seems to have had an especially difficult time finding one decent or likeable person in his cast of liars, petty criminals, reprobates, butt-kissers, tin gods, name droppers, arrivistes, and plutocrats. Really, barely one.
Nor does the book have anything particularly revealing to say about Venice, the Veneziani, or Italy (notwithstanding jacket copy to the contrary), because Berendt spent all his time in an echelon so esoteric, nihilistic, and cannibalistic that *Falling Angels* ends up being a book about the generic rich-and-bored (in any city, on any continent) and not about Venice or the Fenice.
As a result, it’s hard to know who could be interested in what amounts to 400 pages of society-page gossip about people you don’t know, aren’t ever going to know, and don’t especially *want* to know, but that’s what the book—deprived of a true mystery to explore—devolves into.
After all the time, effort, and money Berendt and his publisher sunk into Venice, I’m sure it would have been wrenching to walk away and say, “There’s no book here,” but that would very likely have been the honorable thing to do.
July 29, 2008
Berendt is a very patient writer, which to me is neither a compliment or an insult. I listened to this on audio because I think Holter Graham is an excellent reader, and I think I liked the book, too. Large sections of it only loosely tied into the main story of the burning of Teatro La Fenice, Venice's opera house. Often, however these digressions were more interesting to me than the central story. For example, the story of Ezra Pound's papers was very compelling to me, probably because I have some frame of reference for that, whereas I knew nothing about Teatro La Fenice before listening to this book. Even in these side stories, however, I never lost confidence that Berendt would bring them together in the end. He never let the story out of his control, but remained omnicient as both author and protagonist (a word I feel comfortable using even though this is a work of non-fiction).
June 3, 2018
This book is as much about Venice and the people who live there as it is about the Fenice opera house fire. The author introduces us to many interesting people, both the native Venetians of all classes and the various expatriats who call Venice home. It was interesting to learn about the city's history and art, as well as its present day politics and culture. The investigation of the opera house fire wasn't as compelling as the murder mystery in the the author's previous book, but it still was interesting to see how the Italian legal system operates. An enlightening read.
July 31, 2024
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!
August 20, 2020
This was an intriguing book ostensibly about the Venice Opera fire but also about Venetian society at large, including the ex-pat community. Written by the author of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil ( which I have not read) the author describes his move to Venice right after the fire and details how the past history of Venice affects its current history.
March 31, 2015
Really wanted there to be a lurid murder like in Berendt's Midnight, but I guess there are limits to what a literary non-fiction author can do for the sake of his craft. Enjoyed it, though, and oh how it made me want to be a mysterious American expat occupying a palazzo... Audiobook note: Well done. Thank you, Holter Graham, for not doing Italian accents! I SO appreciate a voice talent who knows he's narrating a book, not acting out a radio play.
August 9, 2011
Inevitable that this would be compared to Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Somewhat of a falling off, probably because Berendt found more interesting weirdos in Savannah than he did in Venice.
May 4, 2021
Loved this book. It is part travelogue, part history, part suspense . It takes place in Venice in the aftermath of the destruction by fire of the Fenice Opera House where Verdi had premiered 5 of his operas. You forget sometimes that this is not a work of fiction . So many interesting, colourful characters.
February 25, 2016
Berendt's previous book, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil was an international bestseller and I loved it to pieces. That, and not the fact that I'm a second generation Italian American, is why I decided to read this book. And I regret that decision.
The City of Falling Angels uses the exact same formula as Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Berendt gives us a biography of a city told through the lives of some of its most colorful citizens, all set against the backdrop of a crime--a sordid murder in the previous book, a high profile arson in this one. But while that formula worked beautifully in the previous book, this time it just falls flat on its face. Maybe this is because the people of Venice are inherently less interesting than the people of Savannah. But I highly doubt that. No, I think that Berendt, riding on the success of Midnight decided to spend some time living the high life in one of the world's most glamorous cities, and to justify his ex-patriate lifestyle decided to write a book about his chosen city of personal exile. But he didn't find the same spark of whimsy and magic there that he did in Savannah. And without that spark, the rest just didn't deliver.
I know it's probably not fair to compare two books about very different places and cultures. But I can't help feeling resentful that the author phoned it in on this one, just hoping lightning would strike in the same way twice. And it didn't, and as a reader I was disappointed. I don't think Berendt tried as hard this time.
In contrast, Berendt seemed much more interested in seeking out and celebrating the upper echelons of Venetian life, rather than fully integrating himself in the middle-class Southerner culture of Savannah. As a result, we get several long, tedious, tiresome, painfully boring chapters focusing on the petty squabbles of a goddamn fundraising committee called Save Venice. The members of Save Venice are disgustingly rich and excel at throwing lavish parties to raise money to restore Venetian landmarks. And they're all universally repugnant and bureaucratic. Somewhere towards the end of the lengthy explanation of their dumb-ass in-fighting, I literally yelled out loud "SOME PEOPLE HAVE REAL PROBLEMS." Seriously, I can't understand why or how Berendt thought Save Venice was worth inflicting upon his readers. My best guess is that, as they threw the best parties in Venice, Berendt's excuse to attend said parties was to make Save Venice a prominent feature in his book. To which I say: I hope drinking cocktails with European nobility was worth robbing me of four hours of my fucking life, Berendt. Thanks for that.
A less egregious example of the author's incorrect assumption that rich and famous people are more interesting than the working class and poor of Savannah was his focus on Ezra Pound and his mistress. Granted, Ezra Pound is a big deal... if you give a shit about poetry and find the drama of a staid uppercrust affair interesting. During the description of the greedy machinations of some random socialite trying to take financial advantage of the late Pound's elderly mistress, I was reminded of the Eddie Izzard sketch where he describes the subdued nature of British television dramas. "What is it Sebastian? I'm arranging matchsticks." "Oh... I'd better go." "Yes I think you better had."
Sorry, I just took a break from this review to watch ten minutes of Eddie Izzard's Dress to Kill. WORTH IT.
Anyway Berendt gets a few things right. When he deigns to talk about average Venetians--the plant seller, the rat poison chef, the glassblower, the Curtises... though I guess only one of those people is actually something less than a millionaire--it all falls into place. I came for stranger-than-fiction conversations with eccentric people who can only be found in Venice. And when Berendt gives us that, it works.
Finally, the centerpiece: the burning of La Fenice, the famous opera house of Venice. The book started and ended strong with this cultural landmark. But instead of having the intrigue and the complex court battle of the murder trial in Midnight the arson case of La Fenice is painfully underwhelming. It doesn't take up enough of the book, very little evidence is actually revealed, and the culprits are bafflingly uninteresting. I cared about La Fenice, and I was truly affected by reading about its destruction. But everything that came after--the investigation, the trial, the rebuilding--was too sparse and abbreviated in the text to actually get me to give a damn. And honestly, I don't think Berendt gave a damn either.
Look, I'm giving this one three stars, because if you've never been to Venice before then it paints a really clear picture. But it was not a great book, and unlike it's predecessor it doesn't make me want to go out and immediately read the author's next work.
But now I do want to go back to Italy, so that's something.
The City of Falling Angels uses the exact same formula as Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Berendt gives us a biography of a city told through the lives of some of its most colorful citizens, all set against the backdrop of a crime--a sordid murder in the previous book, a high profile arson in this one. But while that formula worked beautifully in the previous book, this time it just falls flat on its face. Maybe this is because the people of Venice are inherently less interesting than the people of Savannah. But I highly doubt that. No, I think that Berendt, riding on the success of Midnight decided to spend some time living the high life in one of the world's most glamorous cities, and to justify his ex-patriate lifestyle decided to write a book about his chosen city of personal exile. But he didn't find the same spark of whimsy and magic there that he did in Savannah. And without that spark, the rest just didn't deliver.
I know it's probably not fair to compare two books about very different places and cultures. But I can't help feeling resentful that the author phoned it in on this one, just hoping lightning would strike in the same way twice. And it didn't, and as a reader I was disappointed. I don't think Berendt tried as hard this time.
In contrast, Berendt seemed much more interested in seeking out and celebrating the upper echelons of Venetian life, rather than fully integrating himself in the middle-class Southerner culture of Savannah. As a result, we get several long, tedious, tiresome, painfully boring chapters focusing on the petty squabbles of a goddamn fundraising committee called Save Venice. The members of Save Venice are disgustingly rich and excel at throwing lavish parties to raise money to restore Venetian landmarks. And they're all universally repugnant and bureaucratic. Somewhere towards the end of the lengthy explanation of their dumb-ass in-fighting, I literally yelled out loud "SOME PEOPLE HAVE REAL PROBLEMS." Seriously, I can't understand why or how Berendt thought Save Venice was worth inflicting upon his readers. My best guess is that, as they threw the best parties in Venice, Berendt's excuse to attend said parties was to make Save Venice a prominent feature in his book. To which I say: I hope drinking cocktails with European nobility was worth robbing me of four hours of my fucking life, Berendt. Thanks for that.
A less egregious example of the author's incorrect assumption that rich and famous people are more interesting than the working class and poor of Savannah was his focus on Ezra Pound and his mistress. Granted, Ezra Pound is a big deal... if you give a shit about poetry and find the drama of a staid uppercrust affair interesting. During the description of the greedy machinations of some random socialite trying to take financial advantage of the late Pound's elderly mistress, I was reminded of the Eddie Izzard sketch where he describes the subdued nature of British television dramas. "What is it Sebastian? I'm arranging matchsticks." "Oh... I'd better go." "Yes I think you better had."
Sorry, I just took a break from this review to watch ten minutes of Eddie Izzard's Dress to Kill. WORTH IT.
Anyway Berendt gets a few things right. When he deigns to talk about average Venetians--the plant seller, the rat poison chef, the glassblower, the Curtises... though I guess only one of those people is actually something less than a millionaire--it all falls into place. I came for stranger-than-fiction conversations with eccentric people who can only be found in Venice. And when Berendt gives us that, it works.
Finally, the centerpiece: the burning of La Fenice, the famous opera house of Venice. The book started and ended strong with this cultural landmark. But instead of having the intrigue and the complex court battle of the murder trial in Midnight the arson case of La Fenice is painfully underwhelming. It doesn't take up enough of the book, very little evidence is actually revealed, and the culprits are bafflingly uninteresting. I cared about La Fenice, and I was truly affected by reading about its destruction. But everything that came after--the investigation, the trial, the rebuilding--was too sparse and abbreviated in the text to actually get me to give a damn. And honestly, I don't think Berendt gave a damn either.
Look, I'm giving this one three stars, because if you've never been to Venice before then it paints a really clear picture. But it was not a great book, and unlike it's predecessor it doesn't make me want to go out and immediately read the author's next work.
But now I do want to go back to Italy, so that's something.
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