Customer Reviews

The Floating Book: A Novel of Venice

5 star:		(3)
4 star:		(7)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

This could have been an absolutely fantastic historical novel; however, I feel the author attempted to intertwine too many characters and too many plot lines. Bringing the German printing press to Venice provides a great backbone for the plot; however, the switching back and forth to the ancient poet and the sexual escapades of some woman named Clodia is just confusing. I guess the author wanted us to become as enthralled with the erotic poems as the Venetians were; however, for me it just didn't work. The details of the city, the differences in personality between the Venetians and the German printer, the superstitions, and the effect of the printing press are wonderful. In all, very good historical read, but one that I almost abandoned due to excesses -- in wording and in characters. (Sometimes I had to stop to read a sentence over and ask myself "what in the world did that mean?"). The character of Sosia is as one editor described "over the top" while other characters such as von Speyer are easily believable.

I have to admit that through much of The Floating World, I kept wishing for more. Sometimes more characterization. Sometimes more focus. Sometimes more editing. Sometimes just something more. At times I found it wonderfully written and moving, at times I considered putting it down for good (mostly the middle section), and by the end I was definitely glad I had kept going. But at all those times it never felt it quite matched up to its potential of setting or character. I can see some starting it and never finishing it, but despite its flaws, I'd recommend slogging through whatever tough parts you come across.
There are a lot of strengths to the book. The Venetian setting for one, is beautifully described. But its role goes beyond simple window-dressing. Lovric does an impressive job of making Venice essential to the story, making it almost a character itself in the way that it impresses itself on the people in the book, the way it causes certain actions and reactions. It's a masterful job.
Some of the characterization is also extremely well-done, most particularly the couple at the center of the novel who share part of its narration--the printer Von Speyer and his wife. Watching their marriage through all its highs and lows is at times exhilarating and at others achingly painful. They are the most realized characters and the most effective ones and the book seldom slips when they remain its focus.
Other characters, unfortunately, aren't as strongly composed. Sosia, another major character, starts out strong, but then seems to twist in the wind a bit, stagnating as a character before becoming more and more unlikable. She is one of those missed-potential examples. There are places where her character could be redeemed (as a literary character, not in the moral sense) but those points are either glossed over too quickly and come too late, making them ineffective. In the end, you wanted more from her as a character, wanted to feel more for her. The same is true for several of the minor characters, such as Sosia's husband or Bruno and Felice, two of her (many) lovers. Plot events manipulate you into feeling certain things about their relationships, or at least feeling you should feel something, but the emotions aren't really earned by the writing, mostly because the characters aren't drawn sharply or realistically enough.
The book has some pacing problems I thought. The opening is somewhat slow, but I'm always willing to forgive that in a book of this sort and in fact it picked up not too far into the book. Large parts of the middle third or so, however, gave me serious pause and almost convinced me on several occasions to just give up. The final third, though it maintained some of the book's flaws, moved along more quickly and more movingly, culminating in a strong close.
Structurally, the book moves back and forth in time and narration. There are periodic jumps to letter written from Catullus to his brother detailing his life in Rome, the motivation for/creation of/reaction to his poems (the present-time publication of which is one of the major focuses in the book). The letters are interesting in their own right and the parallels between his time and what is happening in Venice, both in terms of events and characters, quickly become clear. At times, almost too clear and on at least one occasion near the end, I thought one of the past revelations weakened the book's ending rather than enhanced it. Whether you like the use of this structure is probably a matter of personal taste; I found it effective at first and less so as the book went on. In either case, it's easily followed.
The narrative shift is equally clear but much more effective and in contrast to the time shifts, grows more so as the book goes on, adding intimacy and an emotional weight that a third-person narration wouldn't quite achieve.
Overall, the book was disappointing, more in relation to what you felt it could have been. The strengths of the book were so strong that they tended to highlight its weaknesses, so you were left with a lot of "what if" feeling. Still, if they did highlight the weaknesses, those same strengths also made the book, in the end, worth reading. Recommended, but with some sorrow, and with understanding should some not finish it.

Like many historical fiction debuts, Michelle Lovric's The Floating Book suffers from too many facts at the expense of storytelling. Most of the novel takes place in Venice just after the invention of movable type, although each section is framed by correspondence from the Roman poet Catullus to his brother in 63 B.C. Lovric's Venice can be deliciously evil and romantic at once, with murky water that sometimes gives up dead babies and with doors that hide intense passion and curses. Her characters are Venetians and foreigners alike: Sosia, a Serb Jew who seduces men of every class as long as they are Venetians; her husband Rabino, a respected doctor who embraces practical medicine over superstition; Wendelin von Speyer, a German entrepreneur and typesetter; Wendelin's Venetian wife Lussièta who loves him despite, or perhaps because of, his foreignness; Bruno, Wendelin's editor and a man at the mercy of Sosia's indifference; and many others. Catullus and his poetry hover over all as his poetic undying love for his cruel lover (mirrored in the relationship between Bruno and Sosia) becomes the publishing venture the main characters eagerly await. The problem is, with so many characters and so many details obviously drawn from thorough research, nothing gets fully realized. The relationship between Wendelin and his wife shows the most promise, but even that gets bogged down by lengthy explanatory passages. Many of the characters are wooden and seem to exist solely for the purpose of exposing a side of Venice during the time period. The best characters, though - Bruno, Wendelin, Lussièta - made me wish Lovric had concentrated almost exclusively on them. As a character, Sosia holds the greatest promise of being memorable, but Lovric never fully enters her heart, instead leaving her motives for the end when the reader has already lost sympathy.

Despite its flaws, The Floating Book has much to offer. Although the writing alternates between beautifully evocative and stilted/overwritten, the best sections are engrossing and well-paced. The middle of the book is the slowest, and readers might be tempted to skip over whole sections to get to the real stories of interest. But to do so would compromise the resolution, which draws its threads from all the plots. The author has clearly fallen in love with the idea of fifteenth century Venice, and her passion is contagious. But the setting as character is simply not dynamic enough to carry the weight of an entire novel.

I give this novel three and a half stars, an average of the best sections and the worst. Avid readers of historical fiction might find this novel more compelling than I did, especially if they relish an emphasis on history over story.

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 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.

The Floating Book is a novel of intrigue, romance, eroticism and falling from grace set in fifteenth century Venice. In a series of stories, letters and various points of views, The Floating Book tells the story of Johann and Wendelin von Speyer and their journey throughout the Venice and their desire to introduce the art of printing books. There, in the heart of Venice, we are introduced to Sosia Simeon, a woman with insatiable sexual appetites who gets involved with the writer Felice Feliciano and an editor who is enamored with the work of Catullus, erotica poet. Catullus is quite the unconventional poet and his work causes a great deal of controversy when Wendelin puts out the first printing edition of his explicit poems. There are various twists throughout the novel.

Describing this book is difficult because the writing style is quite different and complex to explain in a review. But I will summarize by saying that The Floating Book has rich, sensual and beautiful historical details and references. The novel is based on real-life personalities, the von Speyer brothers, and has a number of other historical background as well. The backdrop of invention of movable type is intriguing and insightful. The romance and eroticism are one of a kind as well. The characters, however, leave a great deal to be desired. The characterization is poor -- some of the characters are there to serve the time period purpose and nothing else. Wendelin and Sosia are the best developed characters by far in this novel. The others are either underdeveloped or have caricature personalities. Other than that, The Floating Book is a fascinating read with one of the most beautiful and romantic time settings out there and for that alone I recommend it. Michelle Lovric shows a great deal of promise with this fine offering.

This book was rich in details of what life was like in Venice in the 15th Century and I found it to be very insightful in many ways. I also enjoyed the fact that it was multi-layered and moved between numerous plot lines. I was, however, disappointed that it was ultimately too much of a "bodice ripper" to keep me reading all the way to the end. I didn't like the characters enough to care how it turned out. I give it three stars for the depth of research that the author obviously employed.

This 15th century historical novel is a little slow going at first, but it sneaks up on you. Just sit back and allow the beauty of the writing, the images, and the atmosphere carry you along. The book is a series of related stories that weave together like a Venetian tapestry, full of shifting colors and blurry hints of depth and emotion. One is the story of Sosia, a lovely, sensual, but shallow Jewish girl married to a good man whom she detests. She takes many lovers, men of every rank in 15th century Venice society. Another parallel story is about a German who has come to Venice to set up a printing press.
Many themes twist and turn through the pages of The Floating Book, themes that include Judaism, faith, fate, the importance of the written word, jealousy, poetry, seduction - and taken together, they create the old Venice of that era. Hence the title: that Venice was like a floating book of ideas. The author is clearly in love with words, and perhaps there are a few too many of them.
But still, it's a lovely and evocative read.

I am very torn about this book. I lingered on several scores for it. In the end, I am left with a strong, lingering distaste for it, although I can't say I'm completely sorry that I read it.

In some ways, it's a good book. Not a grand book, not exceptional, and not good in terms of theme. Rather, it's masterfully written -- the prose is exceptionally lyrical and beautiful -- and the historical accuracy, surrounding a city I have studied little about, was most intriguing. It's definitely a unique book; you will most certainly read nothing else like it.

All of that said, in the end, I'm not too pleased with it. Its problem is, I think, its characters. Very few are sympathetic. Those whom you like are pushovers and mere puppets in the hands of the wicked. Those whom you hate, you hate with a passion (and either they do not die, or when they do, they don't die soon enough or well enough). They are only a few steps above caricatures; although one can believe that such people exist, at the same time, one doesn't like to think that they do. Furthermore, even when you DO drop into the characters, Lovric falls so much in love with her own voice that she can't stay in character. She'll attribute phrases and words to characters that just shouldn't come out of their mouths. In Wendelin's simple wife Lusietta, this is most visible, for Lusietta is not a well-read person and should not speak as she does at times. The effect is disastrous, of course; such moments of, "Would she really say that, like that?..." break the flow of the narrative.

Indeed, as much as I enjoyed the beautiful poetry of the prose (this book could almost be construed as one long, melancholy poem), the prose became too much at times. The author either wanted to parade it around or was having such a good time writing it that she fell out of the rhythm of the story.

To be honest, a good deal of my dislike for this book is up to my own personal taste. Let's just air it right now: there's too much ridiculous sex in this book. When there isn't sex going on, there are metaphors and similes (books are as good as sex, etc). Many, many verbs, adjectives, and turns of phrase have sexual connotations. At one point, about 1/3 of the way in, I threw up my hands in frustration and wondered if there was anything else Lovric thought about. The nature of "love" is a very powerful theme here, but it mostly chooses to exhibit itself in the nature of sex rather than in the myriad of other ways that love can appear. The effect is that the narrative comes across as remarkably shallow and crass, a glorified romance novel.

Attempting to be a little more detached here, I can admit that the sex rides on a very thin edge and is sometimes acceptable. Sometimes, I felt that it was necessary to support some kind of character development, and just the right amount of titillation was used. Unfortunately, most of the time, I felt it was just in there because Lovric liked the shock value, a la Sosia.

Another negative part is when the book takes an odd twist, changing from wholly realistic to something almost supernatural. It's a different flavor that appears out of the ether, completely unexpected, and seems completely contrary to the "realistic," "historical" worldview of Venice Lovric had so carefully cultured. It also changes one of the characters in the story in a way that seemed too drastic and sudden. I did not like this part -- I did not ever like this part. It was too visible. It was like Lovric had taken the underlying theme, pulled it up out of the beams supporting the story, and started hitting me in the face with it.

The book does get better as it progresses, and to fully appreciate it, it should be fully read. It has some very slow parts, especially when it dwells on the journey over the Alps. Eventually, it catches you and won't let go, and you become wild to know what will happen to the more likable characters in the book.

However, this is not a result of the excellence of the story, but due to the ease of the reading, the beauty of the writing, and lingering hopes that everything will turn out all right for the few characters who don't absolutely irritate you.

The ending is satisfactory to some degree; but most satisfying to me was that I could finish it and say, "Well! That itch has been thoroughly scratched! I'll never read that again, thank goodness."

I can see how and why many would enjoy this book; one can't say it isn't well-crafted. As for me, I'm going to give Lovric a wide berth in the future.

It is a bit difficult to get into this book at first, and you have to be a specific type of reader: one who loves lush descriptions, who has a taste for a type of haunting fairytale realism, and who doesn't cringe at rather explicit sexual encounters but understands that the author is actually trying to present them artistically. How else could one interpret a scene in which a man drapes a woman naked over his lap in the exact pose of the Pieta for thirty minutes of contemplation before "having" her?
Once I got over the fact that the plot here meanders on its own in a way that doesn't actually come together until the last few chapters, I enjoyed it for the admittedly beautiful and interesting--if quirky--images it paints. Venice comes alive in all of its murky shadows and waters, lights and mists. The analysis of the power of literature, and especially of the beautiful and poignant poetry of the ancient Roman poet Catullus(whose controversial, overtly sexual works are published for the first time in the Renaissance world by the characters of this book), gives the novel an intelligent flavor that is to be appreciated by all lovers of the written word. Most importantly, the book presents a prism of views on love: we see unrequited love that wastes away the body and soul, obsessive love that feeds on itself and spawns peculiar perversions, true love that is almost beatifying in its splendor, and a total absence of love that, like a void, sucks the happiness and health from anyone who comes into contact with it. The story weaves together all these different types of loves, centered around the peculiar, Succubus-like character Sosia--devoid of love herself yet obsessively loved by a number of other men whose downfall she will ensure unless she is somehow destroyed and they are somehow redeemed.
Sounds confusing? It is, rather--as twisting and shadowy an adventure as the labyrinth of Venice itself--but the combination of literature, art, philosophy, love, and lush prose make it an enjoyable and memorable experience.

It took me quite a while to get into this book but once I did I enjoyed it throughly. This is a book you can become engrossed in, and time passes all too quickly.
It takes place in 15th century Venice and this period is obviously very well researched. The plots and counter plots are so numerous that it would be impossible to try to put them down in this short synopsis. There are many emotions and events to think about within the book: Medicine, the effects of plague, prostitution, witchcraft, betrayal, loyalty. Within all this there is the momentous event of the setting up of the first printing press in Venice and the effects this has on the people of Venice.
My only criticism of the book and this happens with many books, there are too many characters for the reader to keep an accurate account of and I found myself back tracking frequently.