Lucia: A Venetian Life in the Age of Napleon

Some people embroider their family trees on samplers, others create momentos and books for the family. Fortunately Di Robilant went further than this, making his great-great-great-great grandmother a research subject and having Knopf publish it for the general market. This ancestor was witness to and active in a critical time in the life of Venice and through her story we get an idea as to how the nobility coped during the Napoleonic years. We are introduced to Lucia when she is 15 and her father is involved in extended and stressful marriage negotiations. At this time the Venetian elite are leading la dolce vita. Soon, Venetians and their republic will be jolted into new and uncharted territory. Through the Mommo and Mocenigo families we see how the nobility adapted. Many fled. Others chose to work with the French, the Austrians, the French again and again the Austrians. Marriage and family scenes are just as striking as those of the famous events. Lucia is resiliant. From an entralled young bride, she becomes realistic about her marriage that will only end when death due them part. There is infidelity, child birth and death, long separations, primitive medicine, fine entertaining, perilous travel and fiscal constraint. Lucia learns to set up and manage households and farmsteads and to "wait" on a Princess who is half her age. Despite the many problems of her son and his education, she is a successful parent. She gets herself recognized in the Austrian court, educates herself in Paris, becomes a friend of Napoleon's Josephine, manages the family assets and has famous tenents in Venice. This woman is amazing for any age, but for her time, totally impressive. There are two problems with the book, neither serious enough to take away stars. There are two maps but others are needed, one showing the various estates and others showing the travel routes to Vienna and Paris. The other problem may not be addressable. Lucia, while running what seems to be a large farmstead, refurbishes the main house. Then she raises, for sale, a small number of animals (are there not a lot of other animals on this farm?). Similarly, as a lady in waiting she raised two head of cattle. The economics/practicality of this husbandry doesn't compute for me. What is wonderful about this book is that it makes history alive. It shows how larger events effect people's lives. The writer draws portraits of people whom we tend to care about and of the turmoil of Europe at the time.

I just finished reading this sequel to A Venetian Affair. Lucia is quite different from Giustiniana (the main character in the previous book) but this true story leaves you with the same mixture of fascination and melancholy. Unlike Giustiniana, Lucia immediately marries her first love, Alvise, and despite also being the protagonist of a scandal, her life is not as thrilling as Giustiniana's. Like Giustiniana, Lucia lives first hand through the European aristocracy, from Venice to Vienna and to Paris. But while in A Venetian Affair the source of dismay is the missed happy ending for Giustiniana and Memmo (her lover), in Lucia it's another demise that characterizes the book: the fall of her beloved Venice. Through her detailed correspondence to her sister we learn of Alvise and Lucia's efforts to keep their status once orphans of the Most Serene Republic. This is what I believe defines this book. It's the story of a power couple who in their prime loses their motherland, and that helplessly witness a millennium of history being crushed between the French and Austrian power struggle. Alvise and Lucia, they really try. When Napoleon has the upper hand they get back on their feet and are actively involved in being part of the new world order. But as soon as the Austrians take control they have to start from square one, and we find Lucia mingling with the Viennese aristocracy while living in the Hasburgic capital. But then Napoleon is back, and off to Paris they go. These are not merely social ladder moves. There are estates to save, and the underlying theme is the slow but inevitable decadence due to unfortunate geopolitical circumstances that this otherwise very capable and visionary couple is subject to. Of course the book is packed with affairs and loaded with illegitimate children, but the force of this book is its historical value. It's the first hand account of how a historical European nation was phagocytized and of why its resurgence has been suffocated in the following decades.

Lucia: A Venetian Life in the Age of Napoleon begins where Andrea Di Robilant's A Venetian Affair left off. Lucia Mocenigo was the eldest daughter of Andrea Memmo, and she married at seventeen into one of the best-known patrician families in Venice. When the Republic fell in 1797 to Napoleon, Lucia went to Vienna, where she became friends with Josephine Bonaparte. Later, Lucia moved back to Venice, where she became Byron's landlord. She died in the 1850s, when she was in her 80s. Lucia is a compelling look into the life of an intriguing woman. She was at the heart of European political change, as her letters to her husband and sister show. What Di Robilant does successfully in this book, as he did in A Venetian Affair, is bring the event s and people to life. Everything Lucia, her husband Alvise, and her son Alvisetto, do is documented here with precision. Sometimes with too much precision: when her son was a teenager, Lucia obsessively worried over his progress in school. But in all, Lucia was an impressive woman who rose to the challenges she faced with courage.

In this book Venice at the end of the eighteenth century comes to life. Lucia was only a young girl when she returned to her native city from Rome, where her father was Venetian Ambassador, to be married to a much older man. She lived in many of the great courts of Europe, travelled extensively, witnessed the fall of the Venetian Republic to Napoleon, and as an impecunious widow was the landlady who rented out her fabulous family palazzo to no other than Lord Byron. It was in the attic of Palazzo Mocenigo on the Grand Canal that her correspondence, recounting every minute detail of her long and fascinating life, was preserved and handed down through the generations until it came into the hands of the author, who is her descendant. A wonderful book. Highly recommended.

Let's start with the lovely cover image: thanks to the research behind Lucia, this previously unknown work by the widely acclaimed Swiss painter, Angelica Kauffmann, came to light. And thanks to the owner's permission, its appearance on the cover allows us all to enjoy it. This is our first meeting with the blossoming young Lucia. Her glowing complexion, full bosom and that chestnut tendril that curls downward along her neck bespeak an innocent yet eager anticipation of life's sweetnesses. But this is not a love story. Lucia's life is much larger than her courtship and marriage with Alvise Mocenigo, and emphatically disproves what we think of as the bounds for a woman then. From the start, Lucia's story shows her caught in the middle of things, from local power struggles in Venice to empires rising and falling and the devastating wars they brought about. Political events determine one challenge after another for her, as daughter, fiancée, wife, mother, woman on her own. Accounts of political moves, diplomatic dealings, warfare strategy might not seem the stuff of a woman's life story, and yet they make perfect sense here, are fundamental, illuminating and intriguing. As these combine with finely wrought details of the everyday, the past truly comes to life. Di Robilant's style, as in A Venetian Affair, draws the reader in. When you read Lucia, you feel welcome and respected. And at once you are involved. Di Robilant works with some very special material, unearthed not only among family papers but also in archives around Europe. In the end, he did not write the story exactly as he had set out to, for his research uncovered unexpected turns in what he knew as his family's history. He never makes an issue of this, but leaves it tacitly to his readers to imagine what it must be like to see a family legacy twisted into a different shape and to discover fundamental family ties you never knew existed. Di Robilant set out to bond with his past, which in the end he did, but not with the past as he knew it when he set out. I highly recommend this book to readers with a passion for Venice, the Napoleonic years and memoirs about women who rise to unexpected challenges; to readers curious to have an insider view of life at court (Paris, Vienna, Milan) in the nineteenth century or a landlady's perspective on the scandalously libertine Lord Byron; to readers simply fond of books where biography and history elegantly merge with great merit to both genres.