Floating Book Book

"I stood simmering, goose-skinned and wisp-tongued in the milk of the moonlight, until the douse of rain chased me into the prattlng shadows of the portico...I paced her name all the way home through ribbed curtains of water. Above me rose-colored lightning embroidered the drowning sky with hectic stitches.

Love is only worth what you pay for it, I told myself at the start."

Poetry in prose!!! Michelle Lovric chooses the most unexpected words to create completely original phrases. Her ability to integrate such poetry into a novel of this depth and complexity absolutely astounds me.

But her delectable writing isn't the only reason to devour this work of art: Every single character in her cast is so well-developed, individual and believable that, by the time you close the cover, you'll feel as if you lived the lives of each of them.

Few writers could marry Lovric's sumptuous word choice and style, believable characters and complex, parallel story lines -- fewer of them would attempt to fold in even a smidgeon of the dense amount of semi-true historical substance on which she builds the story's foundation.

All in all, The Floating Book is a gorgeous work of fiction about the beginning of the world's fascination with print; vast cultural and religious differences clashing over Venetian waters; and "indecent" poetry from an era long-gone, finding its way through time to haunt each of us.

Because Catullus was a real man--a real poet--in Ancient Rome, and his poems, much to the chagrin of the Catholic church, did find their way into the heart of Venice hundreds of years after their conception.

The most profound, though-provoking, yet basic idea this novel demonstrates is that our basic wants and needs as human beings, throughout near-infinite passages of time, remain the same: food, shelter, health, to love and be loved.

Would the you and I of 1,000 years ago be remarkably the same as we are today? Lovric's answer, I believe, would be a resounding "yes."