Imagined Venice vs Real Venice
Before going to Venice, I read a lot of things that people had said about the city. Many accounts differed, some extolling Venice’s for its virtues, others denouncing it for its faults. I really didn’t know what to expect. I was hoping that the place of beauty that I saw in the paintings would not disappoint me. Venice was a place of magic to me before I went, and I was afraid that it would not live up to my expectations.
Now that I have visited Venice and returned, I can say that it met many of my expectations. The words written by its previous visitors took life while I was there. None more so than the words of Henry James, who said that “Though there are some disagreeable things in Venice there is nothing so disagreeable as the visitors.”
As a visitor myself, I am sad to say that this is true. Hoards of tourists visit Venice daily. They crowd the streets, bump into you, block your path, and make getting around the city incredibly frustrating. They make Venice feel like a cross between Disneyland and Las Vegas, rather than a real city of history and atmosphere.
It took more than a couple days to get over my frustration with the tourists. I am glad I got to stay in Venice as long as I did because if I had not, I might have missed it. I would have missed the beauty. I might have let my frustration with the tourists blind me to the light that glimmered off the water, blind me to the age and history of its buildings. I might not have had the time to get lost in the outskirts of the city, where I encountered the nicest people and got to see the city that lay beneath the tourists.
“This was Venice, the flattering and suspect beauty this city, half fairy tale and half tourist trap, in whose insalubrious air the arts once rankly and voluptuously blossomed, where composers have been inspired to lulling tones of somniferous eroticism.”
Thomas Mann, Death in Venice
















