An inspector rages against the announcement that police HQ is to
relocate--the way so many of the city's residents already have--to the
mainland... An aspiring author struggles with the inexorable creep of
rentalisation that has forced him to share his apartment, and life, with
'global pilgrims'... An ageing painter rails against the liberties taken
by tourists, but finds his anger undermined by his own childhood
memories of the place... The Venice presented in these stories is a far
cry from the 'impossibly beautiful, ' frozen-in-time city so familiar to
the thousands who flock there every year--a city about which, Henry
James once wrote, 'there is nothing new to be said.' Instead, they
represent the other Venice, the one tourists rarely see: the real,
everyday city that Venetians have to live and work in. Rather than a
city in stasis, we see it at a crossroads, fighting to regain its
radical, working-class soul, regretting the policies that have seen it
turn slowly into a theme park, and taking the pandemic as an opportunity
to rethink what kind of city it wants to be.