The subtitle of this oversized, lavishly illustrated volume confirms that we are once again in the kind of quasi-mythical kingdom that provided the setting for writer and illustrator Bantok's bestselling Griffin and Sabine series. I did like the epistolatory style of the book: all emails, journal entries, and letters.

San Francisco art conservator Sara Wolfe, who is fascinated by a drawing of the Indian god Shiva hanging on the walls of the museum where she works, receives an e-mail message from one N. Conti, who somehow is aware of her obsession and offers her a job traveling around the world assembling back his 40 pieace sculture set of Indian deities.

The narrative proceeds via these e-mail messages and through the protagonists' entries into their computer journals. Her employer, curiously, wishes to communicate only by computer. She has no idea who he is or why he wants her. But other mysteries soon preoccupy her, such as the meaning of an enigmatic illuminated manuscript -- and the sensual transformation that seems to be overtaking her.

In this story, however, Sara and Conti are not fated to be lovers. The latter, in fact, is the ghost of a real-life figure, wealthy Renaissance merchant and indefatigable traveler Niccolo Dei Conti, who died in 1469 and needs Sara's help in order to be reunited with his wife, Yasoda, in the afterlife.

And Sara, with Conti's help, discovers her own destined mate, a colleague called Marco (surely Bantok's humorous reference to another fabled traveler). The mysteries around which the plot hinge on Conti's identity and his ultimate purpose in reassembling his collection are suspensefully maintained, augmented by Bantok's intensely colorful and often sensual illustrations.

I was very disappointed by the lacklustre ending I got. It's left to the reader to assume that Sara or Marco or both are descendants of Conti in some way but it's vague. I love the idea of a love so intense and profound that even death cannot overcome it and I'm willing to accept that Conti had to wait for a certain person with the right combination of factors to appear to unlock the key before he could be reunited with his beloved Yashoda, but Bantock could have given us a far better ending than the one he did, considering the superb buildup.

Book Details:

Title The Venetian's Wife: A Strangely Sensual Tale of a Renaissance Explorer, a Computer, and a Metamorphosis
Author Nick Bantock
Reviewed By Purplycookie ( )

The Venetian's Wife revisits classic Nick Bantock territory--a creative loner facing an intellectual and emotional challenge with elements of mystery and magic. Perhaps because the story revolves around computer correspondence, there are fewer of the rich illustrations found in the Griffin & Sabine books. However, in compensation, the story involves forty-two antique Indian sculptures, an ancient illustrated memoir, a New Orleans artist, and various postcards and maps and is peppered with the usual array of wonderful Bantock stampings and collages.

I loved Sara's computer diary which seemed to reflect the relative ease of quickly typing in an unedited conversation with oneself--something I am more inclined to do at a computer than when journaling with a pen. I also appreciated how the email correspondence between the main character, Sara, and her mysterious employer Nicholas Conti, became less formal and more revealing as the story developed. The deeper character development was an unexpected bonus, adding to an intriguing storyline and entrancing illustrations. ( )

I quite enjoyed this lovely tale of art, love and an unusual ghost. It was a quick and refreshing read for me, something I needed after finishing some horror fiction. ( )

I liked this better than the other Griffyn and Sabina books, actually. ( )

Hundreds of years after the death of an art collecting Venetian merchant dies, a young art restorer is given the opportunity to find the remnants of his Indian art collection. Though the mystery surrounding the story and emailed encounters is very minor, it is still intreging enough to keep the story going. Really, though, the strength of any of Bantock's books is the way he weaves his artwork into the tales. I have no idea what the style of art is, but it reminds me of a combination of stamping, scrapbooking, sketchign, and decoupage. The art that the character Sara uses to punctuate her computer diary enteries and to communicate the statues she is trying to find are perhaps more imporant to the plot than most of the text.
Though the art and story aren't as good as Museum at Purgatory or the Forgetting Room, they are still entertaining, moving, and stirring. It seems like Bantock is almost trying to retell Kate Chopin's "The Awakening." ( )