Thursday, December 10, 2009

AN ENGLISHWOMAN'S LOVE-LETTERS DELUXE EDITION LOVE-LETTERS 38

Dearest: St. Mark's inside is entirely different from anything I had
imagined. I had expected a grove of pillars instead of these wonderful
breadths of wall; and the marble overlay I had not understood at all till
I saw it. My admiration mounts every time I enter: it has a different
gloom from any I have ever been in, more joyous and satisfying, not in the
least moody as our own Gothic seems sometimes to be; and saints instead of
devils look at you solemn-eyed from every corner of shade.

A heavy rain turns the Piazza into a lake: this morning Arthur had to
carry me across. Other foolish Englishwomen were shocked at such means,
and paddled their own leaky canoes, or stood on the brink and looked
miserable. The effect of rain-pool reflections on the inside of St.
Mark's is noticeable, causing it to bloom unexpectedly into fresh
subtleties and glories. The gold takes so sympathetically to any least
tint of color that is in the air, and counts up the altar candles even
unto its furthest recesses and cupolas.

I think before I leave Venice I shall find about ten Tintorettos which I
really like. Best of all is that Bacchus and Ariadne in the Ducal Palace,
of which you gave me the engraving. His "Marriage of St. Catherine," which
is there also, has all Veronese's charm of color and what I call his
"breeding"; and in the ceiling of the Council Chamber is one splendid
figure of a sea-youth striding a dolphin.

Last evening we climbed the San Giorgio campanile for a sunset view of
Venice; it is a much better point of view than the St. Mark's one, and
we were lucky in our sunset. Venice again looked like a beautified
factory town, blue and blue with smoke and evening mists. Down below in
the church I met a delightful Capuchin priest who could talk French, and
a poor, very young lay-brother who had the holy custody of the eyes
heavily upon his conscience when I spoke to him. I was so sorry for him!

The Mother-Aunt is ill in bed; but as she is at the present moment
receiving three visitors, you will understand about how ill. The fact
is, she is worn to death with sight-seeing. I can't stop her; while she
is on her legs it is her duty, and she will. The consequence is I get
rushed through things I want to let soak into me, and have to go again.
My only way of getting her to rest has been by deserting her; and then I
come back and receive reproaches with a meek countenance.

Mr. C     has been good to us and cordial, and brings his gondola often
to our service. A gondola and pair has quite a different motion from a
one-oared gondola; it is like riding a seahorse instead of a sea-camel
almost exciting, only it is so soft in its prancings.

He took A. and myself into the procession which welcomed the crowned heads
last Wednesday; the hurly-burly of it was splendid. We tore down the Grand
Canal from end to end, almost cheek by jowl with the royalties; the M.-A.
was quite jubilant when she heard we had had such "good places." Hundreds
of gondolas swarmed round; many of them in the old Carpaccio rig-outs,
very gorgeous though a little tawdry when taken out of the canvas. Hut the
rush and the collisions, and the sound of many waters walloping under the
bellies of the gondolas, and the blows of fighting oars  regular
underwater wrestling matches  made it as vivid and amusing as a prolonged
Oxford and Cambridge boat-race in fancy costume. Our gondoliers streamed
with the exertion, and looked like men fighting a real battle, and yet
enjoyed it thoroughly. Violent altercations with police-boats don't ruffle
them at all; at one moment it looks daggers drawn; at the next it is
shrugs and smiles. Often, from not knowing enough of Italian and Italian
ways, I get hot all over when an ordinary discussion is going on, thinking
that blows are about to be exchanged. The Mother-Aunt had hung a wonderful
satin skirt out of window for decoration; and when she leaned over it in a
bodice of the same color, it looked as if she were sitting with her legs
out as well! I suppose it was this peculiar effect that, when the King and
Queen came by earlier in the morning, won for her a special bow and smile.

I must hurry or I shall miss the post that I wish to catch. There seems
little chance now of my getting you in Venice; but elsewhere perhaps you
will drop to me out of the clouds.

    Your own and most loving.




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