A city so easy to get lost in

Legendary travel writer Jan Morris’ assured ability to conjure up the smells, strange histories, textures and tastes of Venice makes this work an immersive read like no other.

In early 2020, the news that Tom Cruise and his Mission Impossible team were shutting down production in Venice was the first worrying sign that the coronavirus was just starting to wreak havoc in Europe.

In the weeks and months that followed, Venice was among the usually overcrowded destinations that was given a respite from cruise ships, tour groups and disruptive outsiders. The general vibe in these reports seemed to be that the city of canals was going through a period of calm and rejuvenation.

Reading Jan Morris’ Venice makes it clear that this debate about the constant threat of the city sinking into the sea, and the mass influx of tourists that overwhelm it every summer has been a hot topic for years, if not centuries.

Morris was a legendary journalist and travel writer who wrote with great insight, wit and affection for this unique city on the Adriatic, the Serenissima of legend.

Morris, who passed away in 2020, was herself a revolutionary figure. She’d been born James Morris in Somerset in 1926 and worked for a series of newspapers as a journalist early on in her career.

In 1953, Morris would be the first person to break the news of Tenzing Norgay and Edmund Hillary successfully ascending Mt Everest for The Times. Morris began her transition process in the 60s and went through gender reassignment surgery in 1972 in Casablanca and changed her name from James to Jan Morris. She had to face great hostility and prejudice but she continued to write prolifically, publishing books on subjects as wide-ranging as British history, personal memoirs, and, of course, travelogues.

Morris’ Venice was first published in 1960 and it isn’t a conventional travel book where the author journeys from one location to another and adds anecdotes and local colour to give the account narrative
heft.

Instead, the book reads like a warm, immersive guide to a city that has not, even more than 1000 years after its founding, ceased to fascinate the eager traveller. Morris calls Venice the “paragon among landfalls” for any seafarer early on in the book and it’s a hard description to top.

The true delight of Venice lies in Morris’ assured ability to conjure up the smells (and it’s apparent that this city is a very smelly place), strange histories, textures, tastes, and inhabitants.

The book is divided into three parts: The People, The City and The Lagoon. In the section on people, all manner of Venetians are given due attention, both two- and four-legged and those with wings and those who roam nearer to earth and water. A city by the sea will have a considerable feline population and one of the more charming factoids Morris drops in the pages of Venice is this description of an artist with a particular obsession:

“I once went to an exhibition in Venice that consisted of some 50 portraits, all by the same artist, all meticulously executed, all very expensive, and all of the same cat.”

To read this book is to appreciate the outsized role this city had played in shaping the fate of the world. However, I did wonder if I won’t be a tad disappointed by reality if I eventually visit the place.

Morris though does try to reassure the reader: “Venice has lost her silken dreamy spell, but her motion is still soothing and seductive.”

The author is a writer and communications professional. When she’s not reading, writing or watching cat videos, she can be found on Instagram @saudha_k where she posts about reading, writing, and cats.

That One Book is a fortnightly column that does exactly what it says — takes up one great classic and tells you why it is (still) great. Come, raid the bookshelves with us.