shocking! nothing about Venetian music? Gabrieli, Monteverdi, Vivaldi?

It is rather amusing to read this article when one has one's roots in Venice - my mother comes from there, and I visited old aunts and cousins of hers rather often when I was a child. The younger generation has left, to work somewhere else in Italy. From my experience as traveller, I think that there are cities which one can understand while being a tourist for a few days or weeks. One cannot get to know what I call the inside of the population, but one gets a feeling. And there are cities which are one thing for the tourist, and a completely different thing to the inhabitants. Very few people who are not Venetians get the inside of Venice. Neither Thomas Mann nor Henry James, nor many others in your list did. For them, Venice is just a scenery. I recommend a film, “Pane e tulipani”, there is a hint of the inner Venice there.

As for Venice disappearing: it will, of course, some time. But my grandmother already believed the city would cave in before her death (and I suspect HER grandmother had already believed as much), she had even prepared her relocation, but she has been dead these 40 years and Venice is still there.

God forbid that Venice should disappear. I would rather that my own hometown would do so, and that Venice should be saved instead.

Well, as mentioned, when discussing literary Venice, we can't hope not to slip into some pomp or cliche, so anyone with sensitive ears or easily-rolling eyes should cover them. I know this will sound pompous or cliched or self-important. Tough s---. I'm going in:

When I was five years old, my parents first took me there. Being a child, I remembered the beaches near Ravenna, but not Venice! But later, as an adult, I visited Venice again, and finally a third time, which I hope won't be my last. I'll never forget taking the vaporetto up the Grand Canal, or Canalozzo, and staring at the great houses, all hundreds of years old, all with the grandeur and splendour of a hundred Shakespearean actors, stirring the blood of the spectator with their soliloquys. Or landing at the airport on the water, and taking the water taxi to my hotel, the speedboat slamming the water until the city loomed up in front of us. Or going up the Campanile, and feeling not awed, but deprived, at no longer being in the thick of the city.

Visiting the Doge's Palace, and feeling that the ghosts inhabiting the place were more real than the tourists in front of me. Seeing the chambers devoted to the administration of the Republic, and instead of blanching at their Council of Ten's sinister grip on power, reflecting that their Republic must have been that day's most enlightened government. Seeing the palace armory's great, three-foot brass lanterns taken from the Turkish galleys during the Battle of Lepanto in 1571, and feeling that if I stared at them long enough, I'd be transported back to that day, to see for myself. Passing the Hotel Londra Palace, hearing the piano, and feeling as so many others had that there was some profundity even in a dissolute lifestyle, provided it happens in Venice. Seeing yet another place in Europe where Lord Byron had stood, and feeling that he might have written "Byron Wuz Here" on the columns. Seeing the Lion of St. Mark, and feeling that there was once a power here, even a spiritual power, that didn't admit of dissolution at all.

Magic.

We rented a little apartment in the Giardini--just past the point where the via Garibaldi turns back into a canal--for ten days this February. We had a number of books and guides, but one sentence in McCarthy's "Venice Observed" was worth all the rest combined. Not an exact quote, but from memory: "Might as well face it, tourist Venice IS the real Venice." Her witty take on all the takes on Venice by great authors is a great starting place for a first time visitor.

Two authors, Donna Leon -- who has based her entire oeuvre on the dealings of a contemporary Venetian detective -- and Michael Dibdin are crucial. The latter's Dead Lagoon is, in my view, essential reading as it literally walks the reader through the city. Aurelio Zen, Dibdin's Venetian detective central character, is a perfectly realised and complex character; not as sweet as Donna Leon's uxorious Brunetti. I've been to Venice many, many times and can testifty to the good atmospherics in both.

For a light hearted look at Venice, read Sarah Dunant's recent historical fiction, In the Company of the Courtesan. Follow the travails of a infamous courtesan and her dwarf in the 1500's for an enjoyable romp in the canals of Venice.

While Mary McCarthy's "Venice Observed" is justly famous and any work by Jan Morris is a delight, the best book I have ever read about Venice is John Julius Norwich's magnificent "A History of Venice." Tracing the story of the city from its muddy beginnings in the Fifth century to the Age of Napoleon, Norwich's wonderfully written book provides a comprehensive and vastly enjoyable historical overview to compliment the other books mentioned in the article.

Add to the list, all of Donna Leon's Inspector Brunelli mysteries -- delve into the back canals and hidden corners of Venice....

Mr. Barra mentioned Gore Vidal as a guardian of Venice. To expand on that: I would recommend to Salon.com readers Gore Vidal's documentary or its companion book, both entitled "Vidal In Venice." I encounter used copies of both on ebay and Amazon.com regularly. I own both and enjoyed them. Their wonderfully executed images of Venice may have a dated quality now (mid-1980s), but the overall information is not, and both projects are more entertaining than other histories of Venice I've encountered. The information takes the long, historical view, but includes many interesting facts and tales that appeal to Vidal's compelling sense of irony about "the serene republic."