I haven't been to Venice in 23 years.
The first time I was there, I was 23. That means I haven't been to Europe's most famous, most romantic, most sinking, most decaying, most don't-pinch-me-or-I'll-wake-up paradise in a life time.
I wrote one of my most anthologized and translated short stories not long after my first visit to Venice. It was called, Portrait. It was about getting lost but finding love within the canals. Now, all these years later, with 5 novels behind me including The Remains and Godchild, I'm finding that Venice, although a maze, isn't nearly as confusing or intimidating as it was all those ears ago. I guess maturity and has it's advantages. So does grace under pressure.
This is the time of Carnival and it seems as though the entirety of Italy has descended upon the ancient city. People of all ages, wearing costumes and gowns and masks make for a mysterious if not dangerous experience. Even if it is all in good fun.
Tossed into the sea of people are women in ball gowns topped with white wigs, faces painted with white powder. Men wear black, shin-length, capes, and those triangular caps that the great lover Casanova wore. Some wear evil masks of grossly long noses, while other people...young, college age, silly people...dress up in bunny costumes...
....Get the rest of the scoop at The Vincent Zandri Vox:

http://vincentzandri.blogspot.com/201...

The Remains