The Glassblower of Murano

By Marina Fiorato

In this internationally bestselling debut, a heartbroken woman embarks on a grand exploration of life and love as a glassblower in the city of her ancestors, Venice, and learns that the past may not be as clear as blown glass.

Venice, 1681. Glassblowing is the lifeblood of the Republic, and Venetian mirrors are more precious than gold. Jealously guarded by the murderous Council of Ten, the glassblowers of Murano are virtually imprisoned on their island in the lagoon. But the greatest of the artists, Corradino Manin, sells his methods and his soul to the Sun King, Louis XIV of France, to protect his secret daughter.

In the present day his descendant, Leonora Manin, leaves an unhappy life in London to begin a new one as a glassblower in Venice. As she finds new life and love in her adoptive city, her fate becomes inextricably linked with that of her ancestor and the treacherous secrets of his life begin to come to light.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: May 26, 2009
• ISBN: 9781429984560

Marina Fiorato

Marina Fiorato is half-Venetian and a history graduate of Oxford University and the University of Venice, where she specialized in the study of Shakespeare’s plays as an historical source. She has worked as an illustrator, an actress, and a film reviewer, and designed tour visuals for rock bands including U2 and the Rolling Stones. Her historical fiction includes the Venetian Bargain, The Daughter of Siena, The Botticelli Secret, and her debut novel, The Glassblower of Murano, which was an international bestseller. She was married on the Grand Canal in Venice, and now lives in London with her family.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The Book

As Corradino Manin looked on the lights of San Marco for the last time, Venice from the lagoon seemed to him a golden constellation in the dark blue velvet dusk. How many of those windowpanes, that adorned his city like costly gems, had he made with his own hands? Now they were stars lit to guide him at the end of the journey of his life. Guide him home at last.

As the boat drew into San Zaccaria he thought not – for once – of how he would interpret the vista in glass with a pulegoso of leaf gold and hot lapis, but instead that he would never see this beloved sight again. He stood in the prow of the boat, a brine-flecked figurehead, and looked left to Santa Maria della Salute, straining to see the white-domed bulk looming in its newness from the dark. The foundations of the great church had been laid in 1631, the year of Corradino’s birth, to thank the Virgin for delivering the city from the Plague. His childhood and adulthood had kept pace with the growing edifice. Now it was complete, in 1681, the year of his death. He had never seen its full splendour in daylight, and now never would. He heard a traghetto man mournfully calling for passenger trade as he traversed the Canal Grande. His black boat recalled a funeral gondola. Corradino shivered.

He considered whether he should remove his white bauta mask as soon as his feet touched the shore; a poetic moment – a grand gesture on his return to the Serenissima.

No, there is one more thing I must do before they find me.

He closed his black cloak over his shoulders against the darkling mists and made his way across the Piazzetta under cover of his tricorn and bauta. The traditional tabarro costume, black from head to foot save the white mask, should make him anonymous enough to buy the time he needed. The bauta itself, a spectral slab of a mask shaped like a gravedigger’s shovel, had the short nose and long chin which would eerily alter his voice if he should speak. Little wonder, he thought, that the mask borrowed its name from the ‘baubau’, the ‘bad beast’ which parents invoked to terrify their errant children.

From habit borne of superstition Corradino moved swiftly through the two columns of San Marco and the San Teodoro that rose, white and symmetrical, into the dark. The Saint and the chimera that topped their pediments were lost in the blackness. It was bad luck to linger there, as criminals were executed between the pillars – hung from above or buried alive below. Corradino made the sign of the cross, caught himself, and smiled. What more bad luck could befall him? And yet his step still quickened.

There is one misfortune that could yet undo me: to be prevented from completing my final task.

As he entered the Piazza San Marco he noted that all that was familiar and beloved had taken on an evil and threatening cast. In the bright moon the shadow of the Campanile was a dark knife slashing across the square. Roosting pigeons flew like malevolent phantoms in his face. Regiments of dark arches had the square surrounded – who lurked in their shadows? The great doors of the Basilica were open; Corradino saw the gleam of candles from the golden belly of the church. He was briefly cheered – an island of brightness in this threatening landscape.

Perhaps it is not too late to enter this house of God, throw myself on the mercy of the priests and seek sanctuary?

But those who sought him also paid for this jewelled shrine that housed the bones of Venice’s shrivelled Saint, and tiled the walls with the priceless glittering mosaics that now sent the candlelight out into the night. There could be no sanctuary within for Corradino. No mercy.

Past the Basilica then and under the arch of the Torre dell’Orologio he hurried, allowing himself one more glance at the face of the huge clock, where tonight it seemed the fantastical beasts of the zodiac revolved in a more solemn measure. A dance of death. Thereafter Corradino tortured himself no more with final glances, but fixed his eyes on the paving underfoot. Even this gave him no respite, for all he could think of was the beautiful tessere glasswork he used to make; fusing hot nuggets of irregular glass together, all shapes and hues, before blowing the whole into a wondrous vessel delicate and colourful as a butterfly’s wing.

I know I will never touch the glass again.

As he entered the Merceria dell’Orologio the market traders were packing away their pitches for the night. Corradino passed a glass-seller, with his wares ranked jewel-like on his stall. In his mind’s eye the goblets and trinkets began to glow rosily and their shapes began to shift – he could almost feel the heat of the furnace again, and smell the sulphur and silica. Since childhood such sights and smells had always reassured him. Now the memory seemed a premonition of hellfires. For was hell not where traitors were placed? The Florentine, Dante, was clear on the subject. Would Corradino – like Brutus and Cassius and Judas – be devoured by Lucifer, the Devil’s tears mingling with his blood as he was ripped asunder? Or perhaps, like the traitors that had betrayed their families, he would be encased for all eternity in ‘…un lago che per gelo avea di vetro e non d’acqua sembiante…a lake that, frozen fast, had lost the look of water and seemed glass.’ Corradino recalled the words of the poet and almost smiled. Yes, a fitting punishment – glass had been his life, why not his death also?

Not if I do this last thing. Not if I am granted absolution.

With a new urgency he doubled back as he had planned and took the narrow bridges and winding alleys or calles that led back to the Riva degli Schiavoni. Here and there shrines were set into the corners of the houses – well-tended flames burned and illumined the face of the Virgin.

I dare not look in her eyes, not yet.

At last the lights of the Orphanage at the Ospedale della Pietà drew near and as he saw the candlelight warmth he heard too the music of the viols.

Perhaps it is she that plays – I wish it were so – but I will never know.

He passed the grille without a glance inside and banged on the door. As the maid approached with a candle he did not wait for her inquisition before hissing: ‘Padre Tommaso – subito!’ He knew the maid – a surly, taciturn wench who delighted in being obstructive, but tonight his voice carried such urgency that even she turned at once and soon the priest came.

‘Signore?’

Corradino opened his cloak and found the leather gourd of French gold. Into the bag he tucked the vellum notebook, so she would know how it had been and one day, perhaps, forgive him. He took a swift glance around the dim alley – no, no-one could have drawn close enough to see him.

They must not know she has the book.

In a voice too low for any but the priest to hear he said: ‘Padre, I give you this money for the care of the orphans of the Pietà.’ The mask changed Corradino’s voice as he had intended. The priest made as if to take the bag with the usual formula of thanks, but Corradino held it back until the father was forced to meet his eyes. Father Tommaso alone must know him for who he was. ‘For the orphans,’ said Corradino again, with emphasis.

Recognition reached the priest at last. He turned over the hand that held the bag and looked closely at the fingertips – smooth with no prints. He began to speak but the eyes in the mask flashed a warning. Changing his mind the father said, ‘I will make sure they receive it,’ and then, as if he knew; ‘may God bless you.’ A warm hand and a cold one clasped for an instant and the door was closed.

Corradino continued on, he knew not where, until he was well away from the Orphanage.

Then, finally, he removed his mask.

Shall I walk on till they find me? How will it be done?

At once, he knew where he should go. The night darkened as he passed through the streets, the canals whispering goodbye as they splashed the calli, and now at last Corradino could hear footsteps behind keeping pace. At last he reached the Calle della Morte – the street of death – and stopped. The footsteps stopped too. Corradino faced the water and, without turning, said ‘Will Leonora be safe?’

The pause seemed interminable – splash, splash – then a voice as dry as dust replied.

‘Yes. You have the word of The Ten.’

Corradino breathed relief and waited for the final act.

As the knife entered his back he felt the pain a moment after the recognition had already made him smile. The subtlety, the clarity with which the blade insinuated itself between his ribs could only mean one thing. He started to laugh. Here was the poetry, the irony he had searched for on the dock. What an idiot, romanticizing himself, supposing himself a hero in the drama and pathos of his final sacrifice. All the time it was they who had planned the final act with such a sense of theatre, of what was fitting, an amusing Carnevale exit. A Venetian exit. They had used a glass dagger – Murano glass.

Most likely one of my own making.

He laughed harder with the last of his breath. He felt the assassin’s final twist of the blade to snap handle from haft, felt his skin close behind the blade to leave no more than an innocent graze at the point of entry. Corradino pitched forward into the water and just before he broke the surface he met his own eyes in his reflection for the first and last time in his life. He saw a fool laughing at his own death. As he submerged in the freezing depths, the water closed behind his body to leave no more than an innocent graze at the point of entry.

Chapter 2

Belmont

Nora Manin woke at 4am exactly. She was not surprised, but blinked sleepily as the digital numbers of her bedside clock blinked back. She had woken at this time every night since Stephen left.

Sometimes she read, sometimes she made a drink and watched TV, numbing her mind with the inane programming for insomniacs. But tonight was different – tonight she knew there was no point even trying to get back to sleep. Because tomorrow – today – she was leaving for Venice and a new life, as the old one was over.

The digital clock and the bed were all that remained in the room that didn’t wait in a box or a bag. Nora’s life had been neatly packed and was destined for storage or…or what? She rose with a groan and padded to the bathroom. Clicked on the fluorescent strip that blinked into life over the basin mirror. She splashed her face and then studied it in the glass, looking for resolve in her reflection, finding only fear. Nora pressed both hands to the place on her front between her ribs and stomach where her sadness seemed to reside. Stephen would no doubt have some medical term for it – something long and Latin. ‘It wearies me,’ she said aloud to her reflection.

It did. She was tired of being sad. Tired of being bright and breezy to those friends that knew Stephen’s defection had left her shattered. Tired of the mundane workload of dividing what they had bought together. She remembered the excitement with which they had found and bought this house, in the first days of marriage, when Stephen had got his post at the Royal Free Hospital. She thought that Hampstead seemed impossibly grand for a teacher of glass and ceramics. ‘Not when they marry surgeons,’ her mother had dryly said. The house even had a name – Belmont. Nora was not accustomed to houses so grand that they deserved their own names. This one sat, appropriately, on the beautiful hill that led to Hampstead village. A model of pleasing Georgian architecture, square, white and symmetrical. They had loved the place instantly, made an offer and had, for a time, been happy. Nora supposed she should be glad. At least the money from Belmont had provided her with security. Security – she smiled wryly at the word.

I have never felt less secure. I am vulnerable now. It is cold outside of a marriage.

For the thousandth time she began to take an inventory of her reflection, looking for clues as to why Stephen had left. ‘Item – two eyes, wide and indifferent green. Item – hair; blonde, long, straw-coloured. Item – skin; olive. Item – two lips; chapped with the perpetual chewing of self doubt.’ She stopped. For one thing she was no Shakespearean widow, despite the fact that she felt bereaved. And for another, it gave her no comfort to know that she was younger and blonder and, yes, prettier than Stephen’s mistress. He had fallen for a forty-year-old brunette hospital administrator who wore severe suits. Carol. Her antithesis. She knew that Carol wouldn’t sleep in an ancient Brooklyn Dodgers t-shirt and a scruffy plait.

‘He used to call me his Primavera,’ Nora told her reflection. She remembered when she and Stephen had seen the Botticelli painting in Florence on their honeymoon. They were both taken by the figure of Spring in her flowing white gown sprigged with flowers, smiling her slight, hermetic smile, beautiful and full of promise. With her burnished blonde ropes of hair and her leaf-green hooded eyes she bore a startling resemblance to Nora. Stephen had stood her by the painting and taken down her hair while she blushed and squirmed. She remembered the Italians calling ‘bellissima’, while the Japanese took photographs. Stephen had kissed her and put a hand on her stomach. ‘You’ll look even more like her when…’

It had been the first year they had been trying for a baby. They were full of optimism. They were both in their early thirties, both healthy – she was a runner and Stephen a gym fanatic – and their only vice was quantities of red wine, which they virtuously reduced. But a year went by and eventually they visited a colleague of Stephen’s at the Royal Free, a round and cheerful aristocrat with a bow tie. Interminable tests later, nothing was found. ‘Unspecific infertility’.

‘You may as well try blue smarties, they’ll work as well as anything,’ said the colleague, flippantly. Nora had cried. She had not fulfilled the fruitful promise of the Primavera.

I wanted something to be found – something that could be fixed.

They put themselves through a number of invasive, intrusive and unsuccessful procedures. Procedures denoted by acronyms that had nothing to do with love or nature, or the miracles that Nora associated with conception. HSG, FSH, IVF. They became obsessed. They took their eyes off their marriage, and when they looked back, it was gone. By the time Nora entered her third cycle of IVF both knew, but neither admitted, that there was not enough love left between them to spare for a third party.

It was around this time that a well-meaning friend had begun to drop hints that she had seen Stephen in a Hampstead bar with a woman. Jane had been very nonchalant about the information – she had not been damning, as if to say; ‘I’m just telling you this in case you don’t know. It may be innocent. I will say nothing which you cannot ignore with impunity, if you choose to. Nothing from which you cannot draw back. Nothing is lost. Only be aware.’

But Nora was consumed by the insecurity of her infertility and challenged Stephen. She expected denial, or admission of guilt and pleas for forgiveness. She got neither. The situation backfired on her horribly. Stephen admitted full culpability and, in his misplaced conceit of honourable behavior, offered to move out and then did. Six months later she learned from him that Carol was pregnant. And that was when Nora decided to move to Venice.

I am the cliché after all. Stephen is not. He left a young blonde woman for an older brunette. A jeans-wearing artist for a bean-counter in a suit. I on the other hand, instantly enter a mid-life crisis and decide on a whim to leave for the city of my ancestors and start again, like some bad TV drama.

She turned away from the mirror and looked at her packing, wondering for the millionth time if she was doing the right thing.

But I can’t stay here. I can’t be always running into Stephen, or her, or the child.

It had happened, with astonishing bad luck, on a fairly regular basis, despite Nora’s attempts to scrupulously avoid the environs of the hospital. Once she met them on the Heath, of all places – all that square mileage and she had met them while running. It occurred to her to keep going, and had she not been attempting civility with Stephen over the division of Belmont, she would have. Stephen and Carol were hand in hand, wearing similar leisure clothes, looking happy and rested. Carol’s pregnancy was clearly evident. Nora was bathed in sweat and confusion. After a stilted exchange about the weather and the house contracts, Nora ran on and cried all the way home, tears streaming into her ears. Yet Stephen had been more than generous – he had all but given her the house. He has acted well throughout, thought Nora.

He is no pantomime villain. I can’t demonize him, I can’t even hate him. Damn him.

The house sale had given her freedom. She could now embark on her adventure, or her mistake. She had told no-one what she planned, not even her mother Elinor. Especially not her mother. Her mother had no love for Venice.

Elinor Manin was an academic who specialized in Renaissance Art. In the seventies she had gone on a tutor exchange from King’s College London with her opposite number in Ca’ Foscari at the University of Venice. While there she had rejected the advances of the earnest baby professors from Oxford and Cambridge and fallen instead for Bruno Manin, simply because he looked like he had stepped from a painting.

Elinor had seen him every day on the Linea 52 vaporetto which took her from the Lido where she lived to the university. He worked on the boat – opening and closing the gate, tying and untying the boat at each fermata stop. Bruno twisted the heavy ropes between his long fingers and leapt from the boat to shore and back again with a curious catlike grace and skill. She studied his face, his aquiline nose, his trim beard, his curling black hair, and tried to identify the painting he had come from. Was it a Titian or a Tiepolo? A Bellini? Which Bellini? As Elinor looked from his profile to the impossibly beautiful palazzi of the Canal Grande, she was suddenly on fire with enthusiasm for this culture where the houses and the people kept their genetic essence so pure for millennia that they looked the same now as in the Renaissance. This fire that she felt, this continuity and rightness, did not leave her when Bruno noticed her glances and asked her for a drink. It did not leave her when he took her back to his shared house in Dorsoduro and bedded her. It did not even leave her when she found that she was pregnant.

They married in haste and decided to call the baby Corrado if it was a boy and Leonora if it was a girl, after Bruno’s parents. As they lay in bed with the waters of the canal casting an undulating crystal mesh onto the ceiling, Bruno told her of his ancestor, the famous maestro of glassblowers, Corrado Manin, known as Corradino. Bruno told Elinor that Corradino was the best glass-maker in the world, and gave her a glass heart made by the maestro’s own hand. It was all incredibly romantic. They were happy. Elinor made the heart reflect the light on to the ceiling, while Bruno lay with his hand on her belly. Here inside her, thought Elinor, was that fire, that continuity, that eternal flame of the Venetian genome. But the feeling faded as the modern world broke into theirs. Elinor’s parents, not surprisingly, felt none of the respect for Bruno’s profession that the Venetians feel for their boatmen. Nor were they impressed by his refusal to leave Venice and move to London.

For Elinor too, this was a shock. Her reverie ended abruptly, she was back in London in the seventies with a small daughter, and a promise from Bruno to write and visit. Baby Leonora spent her first months with her grandparents or at the University crèche. When Bruno did not write Elinor was hurt but not surprised. Her pride stopped her from getting in touch with him. She made a gesture of retaliation by anglicizing her daughter’s name to Nora. She began to appreciate feminist ideas and spent a great deal of time at single mother’s groups rubbishing Bruno and men in general. At the Christmas of Nora’s first year, Elinor received a Christmas card from an Italian friend from Ca’ Foscari. Dottore Padovani had been a colleague in her department, a middle-aged man of intelligence and biting humour, not one given to patronage or sympathy. But Elinor detected a note of sympathy in his Christmas greetings. She rang as soon as the Christmas vacation was over to demand why he thought that just because a woman was a single parent she deserved to be pitied. He told her gently that Bruno had died of a heart attack not long after she had left – he assumed that she had heard. Bruno had died at work, and Elinor pictured him as she had first seen him, but now clutching his chest and pitching forward into the canal, the city claiming its own. The fire was out. For Elinor her love affair with Venice was over. She continued in her studies but moved her sphere of interest south to Florence, and in the Botticellis and Giottos felt safe that she would not keep seeing Bruno’s

Reviews for The Glassblower of Murano

[chutrandinh · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

predictable

[cygnet81 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A good story but kind of emotional. Also I'm never a fan of books that switch back and forth between time periods.

[sunnycouger-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book is a little slow going but if you can get beyond the first couple of chapters it is definitely worth it. I really enjoyed the whole premise of the story - a woman, Nora/Leonora goes through a divorce after her husband leaves her because they weren't able to conceive (he left her to go to another woman who got pregnant right away) and rather than stay and watch she decides to make the spontaneous decision to go to Venice where she was born and start a new life, blowing glass like her famous ancestors.

There are a lot of things in this book I liked. I found the main character extremely likeable - her reasons for wanting to change her life, the insecurities, the desires she has is something that resonates with me and rather than rolling my eyes when she falls pregnant, I couldn't help but feel nothing but happiness for her because it wasn't an over-blown, dramatic 'it's a miracle' situation but just something that happened and for me, it was handled perfectly.

The story of her looking for her place in life - from trying to find out about her ancestors and reconciling his history with her own is handled well. We find out his story throughout with chapters dedicated to what really happened inter-cut with the modern tales and both stories are well written and engrossing.

The love story doesn't over-shadow anything, but you still find yourself rooting for success and wishing for a little more development in terms of Allesandro's character as he proves to be a pretty central figure to Leonora's story. What little we got with him was good (I especially liked their confrontation near the end, and their visiting of the cemetery together) but I almost felt that as 'the love interest' that he almost could have been given more to do in certain parts of the book.

I could have given this five stars because I really did enjoy it, but I downgraded it one because of the slow start and the fact that some storylines felt a little rushed at the end. Leonora's rival at the glass factory attacks her then tries to destroy her career by selling a story to Allesandro's ex but then disappears. Vittoria, Alesandro's ex, interviews Leonora at one stage in the book and realises she's in a relationship with Alesandro and makes the villainess vow of 'stealing' him back, but again that storyline is not mentioned again. There are just little things that make me almost wish there had been 50 pages more just to flesh certain things out. Regardless, it's a petty grip as it is worth reading and if you enjoy aspects of history combined with the modern then it should be right up your alley. Well worth a read, I think.

[cathymoore_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is a great premise for a book. I was really looking forward to reading about renaissance Venice and the glassblowers. Unfortunately, I found it to be pretty poorly executed and in places hugely far-fetched with some plot holes you could practically walk through.By the end it had almost turned into one massive cliche. I found it all the more disappointing because it had the potential to be so good.

[jlapac-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I saw this book at the airport on Sunday and it was bought and read by the following Wednesday. That is a minor miracle that could have only been possible if someone else bought it and someone else did! She, then, let me read it first. A true friend!

This is the story of a woman who changes her life by going back to her roots - roots she new barely anything about. A sudden turn of events in Nora's life, which, thankfully, the author deals with quickly and succinctly, leads her to Venice and a new life following in the footsteps of her ancestors.

The story does not blather on about how Nora's mother feels about the Venice connection or too much about Bruno. The amount that is included is just enough to give the reader the background that s/he needs to move on in the story without detracting from the main event.

In Venice, Nora returns to her given name, Leonora, and with it a whole new life. This story isn't written in a straight line and there are twists and turns along the way.

One of the appealing aspects is the reach back to the past where the author tells the story of Corradino in alternative chapters, in a flashback sort of way. In a way this method is like reading two stories at once. I liked that the author dealt with the mistakes that people made.

This book has a great tone and the characters seems real -- not perfect robots that seem so frequent in some fiction lately. This is definitely a book I would like to read again.

[manyra-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The story and writing was good with a lovely setting. Unfortunately, it seemed that what should have been the major elements (relationships, research, apprenticeship) were only glossed over, never really explored and therefore not really believable. Also it seemed the action was stretched out to coincided with holidays.

Lastly, my edition was an audiobook from Audible. The intermission music was much louder than the spoken parts, a bit jarring.

[shanaqui_1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

I got a couple of chapters into this and realised it wouldn't be anything new. The story of the glassblower's life could have been interesting, but the modern Leonora's life was so much cliché and drew so much on people's perceptions of Venice as a beautiful and romantic place and blah blah blah. The parallel stories, modern and ancient, is a device that's been used a thousand times before.

And the writing itself is truly indifferent. I don't think I read anything with even a spec of originality. The use of italics is irritating and lazy. None of it made me care in any way.

I was, at least, entertained by the fact that apparently I know Venice quite well through playing Assassin's Creed 2, and that I understood the snippets of Italian in the same way.

[tmbcoughlin · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I love the descriptive details of the glass, Venice and the history of the city and the trade. It drew me into the book. There are two stories told in the book. That of the glass blower from the old world and that of today. A woman is recently divorced and goes to Venice to learn the glass blowing trade. She is fraught with all the lack of self-confidence that one might expect (and a maybe more) of a wife who has been jilted by her husband for a younger woman. It is a classic romance story I believe. I give it a 3.5 only because I am not a big fan of romance. Would have given it a higher ratting otherwise.

[passion4reading_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

After the breakdown of her marriage in England, Leonora flees to Venice, the city of her father and his forebears, to follow in the footsteps of her ancestor, the greatest glassblower of the Renaissance. Eventually she succeeds in achieving professional success as an artist and finding love with a man who accepts her for who she is.The feeling I was left with after having finished the book was mainly one of annoyance: there's a good novel hiding in here but unfortunately it was spoiled by a rather pale and disengaging story about the present-day heroine and some unfortunate editing mistakes.Contrary to one reviewer, I found the opposing storylines between Leonora and her ancestor quite successful, one mirroring the other centuries apart. I loved the well-researched historical detail of Venice in the 17th century and the glassblowing industry on Murano although I doubt very much that The Ten would have been capable of their final act of mercy towards Corradino, i.e. sparing his daughter's life; but I was disappointed that the present-day action was so predictable and, as one reviewer called it, "trite". I found the repeated references to Leonora's resemblance to Botticelli's Primavera grating, especially as she then started a relationship with the equally impossibly beautiful Alessandro, and didn't really care about her trials and tribulations as the first female glassblower on Murano. Corradino came across as a flawed genius but at least as a human being whereas Leonora remained pale and never truly came alive to me, almost as two-dimensional as the painting she so much resembles. On top of that came some mistakes which should have been spotted by the proof reader and which rather spoiled the flow of the narration: the confusion between ancestor and descendant, the timeline of Leonora's arrival in Venice, the first symptoms of pregnancy and the birth, the contradiction in terms of Corradino's arrival in Paris and the plan to bring his daughter to France in one month and then one year, and the repeated occurrences of candlebra (candelabra) and chestspoons ("Then your heart and chestspoon and arms."), to name but a few.On the whole I'd say this was a book for a long-haul flight or the sun lounger on the beach where one isn't required to pay too much attention to the words, or as I like to call it, "literature lite".

[mikalina_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Romantic escapism. Characters without character (clichès; plot and persons). Reasonable research on the geography and history of Venice - but if history is what you want - "A history of Venice" by John Julius Norwich is both more exciting, surprising, rewarding and even more romantic than this thirteen-to-the-dozen tale.

[a9m9free · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Good read about Venice and the glass industry. I loved the descriptions of Venice - very realistic and reminiscent of this lovely city.

[jaie22 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book was just not what I expected at all. I was expecting literary fiction, but this is a romance novel, plain and simple. There's nothing wrong with romance novels - it was kind of like when you bit into what you think is a chocolate chip but is really a rum-soaked raisin. Both rather tasty, just comes as a surprise.In terms of romance novels, this is a good one. Leonora is somehow at once independent and fragile, a very appealing heroine. Sandro comes across with all the flair of a native Venetian, and is easy to fall in love with. Of course, Venice herself is the real object of affection.The historical parts of the novel were overall very good; I was left wishing there was a short paragraph somewhere telling me which parts were true and which were fiction. (And maybe there is such a paragraph in other editions - one of the drawbacks of reading an ARC is that sometimes things like that, which are submitted to the publisher later than the rest of the book, are not included.) The conclusion of Corradino's story, however, felt very rushed and incomplete. Even Leonora and Sandro wonder what in Corradino's story, once completely told, put him back in the public's good graces. I'm not entirely sure I understand why The Ten insisted Corradino return to Venice to be assassinated, when he could so easily have simply been never heard from again. It may be a convenient plot device to allow him to provide for his daughter's future and to leave his notebook, or it may be that The Ten wanted him killed in the sight (and sure knowledge) of other Venetians, so they would know how seriously they took Corradino's treason. Or was it for civic pride, so that if his fate ever did become known he would have died at home? (I'm also not sure how the hell they finished making the mirrors for Versailles, which is rather problematic for me - a loose end I need to clear up.)

[mrn945_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The novel describes a master glassblower, and his modern ancestor who ventures back to Venice to learn the art herself. The novel moves smoothly between the two time periods, though I would have appreciated a little notation at the top of the paragraphs so that I wasn't a couple of pages into a chapter before figuring out which century I was reading about.I was intrigued by both of the main characters. Leonora's ancestor was fascinating in his quest for perfection in the glass, and his distant love for his precious daughter. Leonara herself was very sympathetic. I found myself eager for her life to finally work out, and to show those men at the factory she deserved to be there!Both stories have a conclusion, of sorts. I found myself wanting more at the end, though this is not necessarily bad. Given that I stayed up late to read this in one sitting, it is probably best it ended when it did!Regardless, I highly enjoyed the novel, and have ordered several of Ms. Fiorato's other novels to read.

[joririchardson · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

After her husband leaves her, Leonora Manin decides to pursue her dream of moving to Venice and learning the art of glassblowing. Her 17th Century ancestor, Corradino Manin, was one of the most famed glassblowers in history, and Leonora has always felt a connection with him. Upon moving to Italy and beginning work, Leonora meets a handsome Italian man and makes a home for herself. However, the prestigious view she holds of her ancestor, as well as her new life, start to melt away when she begins to doubt everything about her family legacy, and about Corradino himself.This was a quite fun, breezy read that I got through in one sitting. Besides following Leonora's modern story, it also switches back and forth between Corradino in Renaissance Venice. The author, Marina Fiorato, tells us on the back cover, the introduction, the reader's guide (anywhere she can slip it in, really) that she loves Italy and has lived in Venice. And don't forget the Italian wedding, too. Want to see a photo? Here you go.Despite the annoying fact that she obviously wants every reader to know how "Italian" she is, I have to admit that she did have a charming way of bringing Venice to life. She seemed to struggle a bit with bringing out the old Venice in the parts where Corradino is the focus, but in the Leonora parts, her picture of the scenery remains fresh, realistic, and detailed.Much like Leonora, I have always had a dream of moving to Venice. It is my favorite city on earth, even though I have never been there.Because of this, I was probably more than biased toward Leonora's journey and settling into her new home. Walking through streets and drifting along canals, going to hidden away little Venetian coffee shops, disdainfully separating oneself from the tourists, and especially the decorating of her new apartment all seemed dreamy to me. I kept picturing myself doing these exact same things, especially the setting up of the apartment.However, as much as I loved putting myself into Leonora's Venetian footsteps, I also recognize that these little tidbits didn't do anything for the story. They established a setting, but they probably lingered a bit too long. I thought that the idea of glassblowing sounded amazing, so I quickly looked it up on Wikipedia in the middle of the book.I was aghast at what I learned simply by skimming the page. Fiorato certainly did terrible research if a 5 minute look at Wikipedia can tell me that many of the facts introduced here are wrong.Molten glass is 2400°F, but in the book, both Corradino and Leonora touch it with their bare hands. Corradino's secret to making mirrors is revealed at the end of the book, and it was also impossible. Today we use other molten metals to create flat mirrors, but a key point is - MOLTEN. They are fired up to volcanic heat. In the book, Corradino uses a cool, room temperature method, which would not work.I was extremely disappointed to discover that such an important feature of this book had been so grossly brushed over in the research area.Even though I normally can't stand modern stories, but love historical fiction above any other genre, this book could have done without the chapters alternating back to the Renaissance. I didn't feel that the two stories went together very well at all. Leonora is always talking about the connection she feels with Corradino, but I couldn't see it. Maybe it was simply because he was in such a man's world, she in such a feminine mindset. But even besides that, their lives were not all that similar, and it just didn't work in my opinion.Corradino never came across to me as a character, while at least Leonora seemed to have a personality. In the first few chapters, practically all we hear is Corradino praising himself. He keeps telling us what an amazing craftsman he is, and how he is the very best glassblower in the WHOLE world. He is always saying things like "I don't tell anyone my glassblowing techniques, but even if I did, no one else would be able to do it like me." Or for another example, "I have never let anyone read my book on glassblowing, but even if they did read it, they wouldn't understand." It got old very quickly, but Corradino goes on and on about his brilliance.The romance scenes were cheesy, and the twist in the relationship seemed cliche and obvious.All in all, I have to say that this wasn't a well written book. But it was easy to read, and I enjoyed it because the main character lived a dream of mine.

[butterflybaby_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was a good book. I liked how the author brought together past and present. I thought the characters were well writen. I didn't really feel anything about the setting, in places I felt forboding and disappointment for the dark dirtiness of the 2 cities that are supposed to be the most beautiful cities in the world. Over all I think it was well written and definetly enjoyed reading it.

[cozylover · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A very quick read with a nice premise, but lacking in luster over all. I love historical fiction but this novel felt rather flat. there was romance and intrigue but I never felt connected to the main characters and the plot itself could of been fleshed out some more. A good attempt on the author's part and I do feel there is a lot of potential in the writing so would definitely give another title by this author a try.

[pjhess · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I received this book from Library Thing and finally got it read for a review. I am a big fan of historical fiction and was eager to read this. I found the story of Corradino Manin to be very interesting and wish the author could have maybe fleshed out the story a little bit more. There was intrigue and romance which makes a good story but this book was just kind of flat. I liked the back and forth but just felt some details were missing from both stories. A good read but not great. Would try this author again.

[ellenq_12 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I received a free copy of this book from a Goodreads givaway. Excellent!This was a fun read. I read it in one day, while I was traveling and sitting in various airports. It's historical fiction set in Italy, following two stories: Corradino Manin (a glassblower restricted to the island of Murano) and his descendant, Leonara. Corradino was a famous glassblower, but the ending to his life was mysterious. The story revolves around Leonara's investigation into Corradino's life and death as she simultaneously tries to build a life for herself in Venice after fleeing a failed marriage in England. Whew! There's a lot going on, but it kept the book interesting and fun. I'd recommend this book if you're a fan of historical fiction, or if you enjoy novels set in Italy. It's not amazing literature, but it's captivating and interesting. I'm glad I read it.

[janeajones · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The Glassblower of Murano by Marina FioratoERWhile a quick and easy read, this novel suffers from the author's seemingly not to have decided whether it was a modern romance or a historical novel. The chapters alternate between 17th-century and 20th-century Venice. In the 17th century, Corradino Manin is the most famed glassblower of Murano, but he operates under the repressive and watchful eyes of The Ten, the oligarchy that rules the city and guards its monopoly on glass and mirrors. His descendant, Leonora Manin, has returned to Venice, her birthplace, from London where she was raised, She is recovering from a disastrous divorce and seeks her artistic roots and heritage in Venice and the glass factories of Murano. As she tries to unravel the tainted history of her forbear, she becomes the first female glassblower in Murano and begins a relationship with a handsome Venetian police officer.The most interesting passages in the book are about the craft and history of glass-making and the convoluted politics of 17th-century Venice. Unfortunately, the characters are not fully developed, and motivations for actions often remain murky -- even with the two protagonists. I don't know if the fault lies with a heavy editorial hand trying to make the novel appeal to a wide audience or to the inexperience of a novice novelist -- but the book tries to do too much, and hence fails to focus fully on what could have been a compelling historical tale.

[imanivrn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I enjoyed this book. I thought the author did a good job of balancing the two story lines between past and present. I found I really liked the characters and, although I preferred the past story line, I did enjoy the theme of the story set in present times. I wanted to know how things turned out and it kept me reading way past my bedtime! I did find that the story set in present time moved a little too quickly through the plot. I feel it would have been better for the plot to simmer and grow a little bit more. Overall I would recommend - good read.

[gramlouise2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I have never been to Italy, but I know Murano glass is very special, even today. It was fun to read some of the history of the glassblowers of the17th century. This book had a great sense of place, but I wasn'tparticularily fascinated with the characters. Just as I would suspect in anovel like this, there is a wonderful romance. It is Italy after all!!!I enjoyed it, and would probably read another of her novels when she writesanother one.

[raistlinsshadow · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I don't feel that this book could really be described any other way than "nice". It's adequate for its purposes, the writing isn't immensely flawed, and there's nothing in particular wrong with it, but it has potential that simply isn't reached. Fiorato pushes no boundaries in the writing of this book and never quite steps out of her comfort zone. The plot, while engaging, is predictable, and the characters all go through very familiar development arcs.I was hoping for more of a uniqueness with the emphasis on glassblowing, but that took a back seat in a rather odd way to the rest of the book. I feel that even though it was the focus of the book and much time was spent in the fornace, it was glossed over and not as important or completely overtaking as it might have been—where was our lovely main character's state of shock, panic, or SOME negative emotion when she was told that she was no longer allowed to work? It's frustrating to me that something like a pregnancy can explain away all of that, particularly considering that I stand nowhere near that end of the caring spectrum.Hopefully in her next book, Fiorato will be willing to push herself. She has potential; it simply wasn't in this book. She went through all the right motions, and it could be that she was attached too strongly to the subject material to be willing to risk making it bad in any way.

[heatherlove_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I sort-of liked The Glassblower of Murano. Nora goes to Venice after her husband divorces her for a uglier woman. Her idea is to focus on her glassblowing career, inspired to go not only by a desire to develop her own artistic skill with glass but also by a desire to find a link to family, more precisely to a famous glassblower ancestor of a father she never knew. Not surprisingly she has to overcome some obstacles and finds some romance along the way. A lot of her success comes from her being a pretty blond that inspires men to move mountains to help her. What did I like? Well, I lived in Italy for a year, love Venice and the clever juxtaposition of the two family members lives being tied together generations apart was done fairly well and the vehicle was good. If you like romances and a little historical fiction, you will enjoy very much. The history of the glassblowers was the most intriguing part, I thought.What didn't I like? I didn't really like the heroine of the book, and those kinds of books are always hard sells. I never really connected to her and didn't really ever feel bad for her. I think it is just a character development issue for me. Her fish out of water story wasn't from her living in a new place, it was because she gets shunned at the workplace? She spends time telling us about the mother and her relationship with her. Then, for someone so concerned about "family" I didn't see a mention of her calling her mother to tell her about any of her big news, though she didn't have a problem mentioning how our erstwhile detective hero called his friends right away. She's supposed to not be concerned about money after the divorce but then we find out she's relieved she's been paid so she can make one month's rent... no other mention of money in the whole thing.Do I want to spend a whole book with someone I wouldn't like very much at a dinner party? As far as I could tell, Nora's only redeeming quality was that she was pretty and could decorate an apartment... interesting tidbits, but not a fleshed out person for me to like. Yes, yes, if the writing is good enough, the character development is good, the story is good... here, the writing was decent in parts, the story was good in parts, except just when I was getting ready to keep reading, I kept getting distracted by the break-out italicized thought quotes that were thrown in. The way I read-and I'm a fairly fast reader-made me stop this book a couple times and put it aside to read something else because I would stop and slow down so often in order to read the quote bubbles. If Marina had just told me what they were thinking in the text, I would have been happier. Again, maybe not an issue for everyone.Enough of this story stuck for me, in the end I would say that especially if historical romance is your deal, then read it. For me, I'm going to wait to see what Fiorata Marina comes out with next... with such smart ideas to anchor the book, I think practice with her writing will only make her better and I'll be willing to give her another chance.

[cameling_2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a delicate story about Leonora Manin, who seeks to build a new life and find herself in Venice, the city of her birth, and if possible to gain employment as a glassblower, following in the footsteps of her forebear, Corradino Manin. But her talent notwithstanding, the mention of her ancestry results in her being ostracized by the maestros in the glassblowing foundry to which she was hired. As her mentor, and employer seeks to turn around the fortunes of his foundry by marketing the Manin name, a reporter uncovers an ugly accusation against Corradino Manin, and demonizes him as a traitor.With the help of a Venetian detective and a University professor friend of her mother's, Leonora seeks to find out the truth around the man she had come to feel close to, in this watery city.Alternating between the present and the past, the voices of Corradino and Leonora intersect, and leave us with a story as pretty and fragile as the Murano glass that is centered around them.

[lms430 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Overall, I enjoyed "The Glassblower of Murano." It starts a little slow and it took me a while to get into it. I liked that it went back and forth between present day Venice and 1681 Venice, but I think it would have been helpful if the historical chapters were dated; sometimes it took a few pages to realize when the action was taking place, since the historical chapters go back in time, recounting the events leading up to the opening major event of the book. I felt this was done much more successfully by Geraldine Brooks in "People of the Book." The author has a new book coming out in spring of 2010 and I look forward to reading that and seeing how the author changes and improves her writing on her second novel.

[lis6lueninghoener · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I was rather disappointed in the book, but I can understand how another might like it. It claims to be a book about past and present glassblowing in Venice. However, it is truly a fluffy romance (the love kind, not the Danielle Steele kind) with a Venetian backdrop.I found it to be rather predictable in its romanticism. That being said, I'm not a big fan of romances and predictable plot lines. It was very fast paced and I found it to be a page turner, even as I hated myself for continuing to read it. Thus, if you like such books, I imagine you'll love this one.

[cvjacobs · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Marina Fiorata’s novel, The Glassblower of Murano, plunges the reader into Venetian history through the eyes of a descendant from 400 years of glassblowers. Two characters grab the reader’s attention. One is Corradino Manin, a man who sells his techniques to Louis XIV to protect his ‘orphan’ daughter, living at the Pieta. The other is Leonora Manin who in the present day travels to a new life as a glassblower in the city of her birth.The author depicts Venice as the beautiful yet seamy lady she is—the constant lapping of the water, the pastel wedding cake houses, the glory of San Marco, the palace of the Doge and much more with concrete, specific details that make the story come alive. Venice portrays a shadowy character in the novel.The shifts between three periods of history--Corradino Manin from Venice’s distant past, Corradino Manin, the present day Leonora’s grandfather; Leonora, the secret daughter of the Corradino of the past, and Leonora, the present day glassblower—occur without clear demarcation. Headings noting the date would easily fix this problem. The similarity of the names compounds the confusion.The author obviously put a lot of time and attention into researching Venice’s past and brings Venice to life in the novel, showing both the crude and enchanting sides of a fascinating city. Towards the end of the novel, the tempo accelerates to the breakneck pace of a thriller and I could not stop turning the pages. A patient reader will find a lovely, determined woman, richly characterized figures from the past and a wonderful romance. For lovers of historical novels and exotic places, this is a great read!

[bear08_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This book is of three minds. It is at once a modern romance, an historical novel, and an unfolding mystery that serves as the glue holding all of the pieces together. The story follows both Leonora Manin through the modern world of Venetian glass and her ancestor Corradino Manin who was one of the greatest glass blowers Murano had ever seen. When Leonora moves to Venice after her divorce she is determined to become a glass blower. What she doesn't expect is the attention that her famous ancestor will bring her and the questions about him that begin to surface. And, of course, there is a love interest in Leonora's new life.I enjoyed being able to read not only a story of the discovery of one's ancestor, but also the story of the ancestor himself. The transitions between present and past were at some points awkward stumbling blocks for the story. Even so I liked having the parallel stories running throughout the book.Would I read it again? No, It was good, but I have had my fill of the story.Would I recommend this to my sister? Yes, this is the kind of book that is easy to recommend to friends and family. It is a quick read and a good story.

[librarymeg · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Glassblower of Murano takes place in the magical city of Venice in two widely separate ages. The modern main character, Leonora Manin, is the descendant of Corradino Manin, a fallen aristocrat and one of the greatest glassblowers to ever come out of Murano. After a painful divorce, Leonora decides to leave her London home and the memories it holds for a new life in Venice and hopefully a new career as a Murano glassblower. She hopes that this new beginning will help her understand her life and heritage, and she forges an intense connection with Corradino that spans the centuries. She also begins a new relationship in Venice, although everything becomes threatened by the betrayal, treason, and tragedy from Corradino's time.This novel is a combination of rich historical drama in an exotic setting, a contemporary romance, and a mystery rooted in family history and identity. The Venice on the page is beautiful and ever-changing and seductive, and the real draw of this novel. It's the thread that ties everything together, and I turned the last page with a fierce desire to see it for myself. The strongest of the plotlines is Corradino's, and although I had a bit of trouble connecting with Leonora her story was still interesting enough to keep me reading. I would recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a rich and vivid setting, and the details of Murano glassblowing and mirror making are fascinating.

[lenoreva · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

After her divorce, Leonora Manin’s life in England is in tatters. She decides to move to Venice to follow in the footsteps of her famous ancestor Corradino Manin and be a glassblower on the island of Murano. Back in the 17th century, where the secrets of the glass are jealously guarded by the ruthless Council of Ten, Corradino must make difficult decisions to ensure the safety of his daughter.Of the two threads of the story, the historical is the more engaging and exciting. The political intrigues of the day fascinate as do the detailed descriptions of glassblowing. The modern day thread tends to drag and Author Fiorato never succeeded in making me care too much about Leonora. While I could feel her passion for Venice and its arts, the characters came off as strangely cold and lifeless. Still, the two threads come together in a satisfying way in the end, and I closed the novel with a smile on my face.