The Eye Stone

Description

In the twelfth century AD, Venice is little more than an agglomeration of small islands snatched from the muddy tides. In this northern backwater, a group of artisans have proven themselves to be unrivalled in an art form that produces works of such beauty that many consider it mystical in nature: glassmaking. Aware of the power they wield and the role they will play in the Venice of the future, the glassmakers inhabit a world of esoteric practices and secret knowledge. Into this world steps Edgardo D'Arduino, a cleric and a professional copyist.

Roberto Tiraboschi was born in Bergamo, Italy. He is known as one of Italy's most stylish screenwriters and playwrights. His novels have enjoyed success with both critics and readers. Venetia is the first of his novels to be published in English. He lives in Rome.

Praise for The Eye Stone Tiraboschi is part of the great tradition of European storytellers and yet he reminds readers of contemporary classics like Perfume by Suskind and Ingenious Pain by Andrew Miller. --Sergio Pent "Setting the action in medieval Venice was a stroke of genius, thanks to Tiraboschi's keen historical eye and sense of atmosphere." --ShelfAwareness Roberto Tiraboschi knows how to recount a city and an era that are both poisoned by intrigue and violance. His writing is powerful and evocative. --Venerdi di Repubblica "A compelling, enlightening read with characters exhibiting both strength and weakness in physcal and moral terms, each one appealing in a distinct way and a great twist at the end. If you love Italy, Venice, history, mystery, a good story...you have them all right here." --Mountains and Plains Independent Booksellers Association A generous, thrilling look at the birth of modernity and the embryonic splendors of a city that is unique in the world. --La Stampa "Tiraboschi is playful enough to weave in a good deal of profanity and even some buffoonery and also insightful enough to remind the reader periodically of the sheer technological miracle that sits perched so cheaply and easily on the bridge of their nose, allowing them to read the pages in front of them." --Open Letters Monthly