Stone Virgin

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Authors: Barry Unsworth

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BOOK: Stone Virgin
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Stone Virgin
Barry Unsworth
Random House (2012)
Tags:
Fiction, General
Fictionttt Generalttt

For five hundred years a statue of the Madonna has watched over Venice. Now, dulled by time and pollution, she is prepared for restoration. As Simon Raikes immerses himself in the painstaking task of cleaning and repairing, he is inexorably drawn to the stories of violence and lust which have surrounded this stone virgin.

Simon’s investigations lead him to Chiara Litsov, the wife of a renowned sculptor. A dangerous attraction develops between them and it appears inevitable that once again the stone virgin will bear witness to passion, betrayal and murder.

**

Review

"A marvellous novel, beautifully written and compelling to read" Daily Telegraph "A tour de force of informed, atmospheric writing ... an impressive, thought-provoking book" Sunday Times "An enthralling exploration of time and of Venice and of the creative mind" New Yorker "A remarkable novel ... a superlative evocation of a Venice of murky calli ... a master stylist" Spectator

About the Author

BARRY UNSWORTH was born in 1930 in Durham, and now lives in Italy. He is the author of many novels, including
Pascali's Island
, which was shortlisted for the 1980 Booker Prize;
Stone Virgin
(1985);
Sacred Hunger
, which was joint winner of the 1992 Booker Prize;
Morality Play
, which was shortlisted for the 1995 Booker Prize;
Losing Nelson
(1999);
The Songs of the Kings
(2002);
The Ruby in Her Navel
(2006);
Land of Marvels
(2009) and
The Quality of Mercy

Stone Virgin
Barry Unsworth
Random House (2012)
Tags: Fiction, General
Fictionttt Generalttt

For five hundred years a statue of the Madonna has watched over Venice. Now, dulled by time and pollution, she is prepared for restoration. As Simon Raikes immerses himself in the painstaking task of cleaning and repairing, he is inexorably drawn to the stories of violence and lust which have surrounded this stone virgin.

Simon’s investigations lead him to Chiara Litsov, the wife of a renowned sculptor. A dangerous attraction develops between them and it appears inevitable that once again the stone virgin will bear witness to passion, betrayal and murder.

**

Review

"A marvellous novel, beautifully written and compelling to read" Daily Telegraph "A tour de force of informed, atmospheric writing ... an impressive, thought-provoking book" Sunday Times "An enthralling exploration of time and of Venice and of the creative mind" New Yorker "A remarkable novel ... a superlative evocation of a Venice of murky calli ... a master stylist" Spectator

About the Author

BARRY UNSWORTH was born in 1930 in Durham, and now lives in Italy. He is the author of many novels, including
Pascali's Island
, which was shortlisted for the 1980 Booker Prize;
Stone Virgin
(1985);
Sacred Hunger
, which was joint winner of the 1992 Booker Prize;
Morality Play
, which was shortlisted for the 1995 Booker Prize;
Losing Nelson
(1999);
The Songs of the Kings
(2002);
The Ruby in Her Navel
(2006);
Land of Marvels
(2009) and
The Quality of Mercy

Contents

About the Book

About the Author

Also by Barry Unsworth

Title Page

Madonna Commissioned

Restoration 1: The Lower Draperies

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

First Interlude: Coronation

Restoration 2: All Below the Waist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Second Interlude: Sanctification

Restoration 3: The Form Entire

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Last Words

Copyright

About the Book

For five hundred years a statue of the Madonna has watched over Venice. Now, dulled by time and pollution, she is prepared for restoration. As Simon Raikes immerses himself in the painstaking task of cleaning and repairing, he is inexorably drawn to the stories of violence and lust which have surrounded this stone virgin.

Simon’s investigations lead him to Chiara Litsov, the wife of a renowned sculptor. A dangerous attraction develops between them and it appears inevitable that once again the stone virgin will bear witness to passion, betrayal and murder.

About the Author

Barry Unsworth was born in 1930 in Durham. He was the author of many novels, including
Pascali’s Island
, which was shortlisted for the 1980 Booker Prize;
Stone Virgin
(1985);
Sacred Hunger
, which was joint winner of the 1992 Booker Prize;
Morality Play
, which was shortlisted for the 1995 Booker Prize;
Losing Nelson
(1999);
The Songs of the Kings
(2002);
The Ruby in Her Navel
(2006);
Land of Marvels
(2009); and
The Quality of Mercy
(2011), which was shortlisted for The Walter Scott Prize for historical fiction. Barry Unsworth died in 2012.

Also by Barry Unsworth

The Partnership

The Greeks Have a Word for It

The Hide

Mooncranker’s Gift

The Big Day

Pascali’s Island
(published in the United States under the title
The Idol Hunters
)

The Rage of the Vulture

Sugar and Rum

Sacred Hunger

Morality Play

After Hannibal

Losing Nelson

The Songs of the Kings

The Ruby in Her Navel

Land of Marvels

The Quality of Mercy

Madonna Commissioned

 

HE BRINGS ME
writing materials without asking for money but he does not speak, I cannot be sure what his motives are, whether he has seen my worth and wishes sincerely to help me or whether he is merely acting on orders from his superiors or it is possible he has believed my promises to reward him when I get out of this hole but whatever the truth of it I take this chance of reaching you, noble lord, I beg you to find out who are my enemies and speak for me, I mean those behind my accusers. From you a few words would be enough. I am innocent of the girl’s death. I swear it by all the saints. Ask me to make any solemn oath and I will do it. I was in another part of the town when she was drowned. Those who say I was with her are lying, they have been paid to lie. You are my generous patron, you are one of the Three Hundred, you obtained for me the commission from the Supplicanti, having seen my work at Bologna, my lord please help me now or I will sink under this weight of false witness, why would I kill a girl for no reason? Besides she was a whore. I will tell you everything I can about Bianca and the carving of the Madonna.

My landlady Maria Nevi has said in her deposition that I have a violent nature giving as evidence threats to her and threats to the boatmen on the day they brought the block, however she was not present on this occasion, she was buying fish in the market, so already she is perjured because she has said on oath that she witnessed this scene. Why has she done this? I know the hag dislikes me – I always called her Fiammetta as a joke though she is more than fifty and half her teeth gone and her thing pickled in its own vinegar. But there is more than dislike in this.

I remember that day well because of the beauty of the stone and my own fury. At the last moment, before swinging the block across from the barge on to the
fondamenta
, everything ready, myself standing there on the edge to help guide the block over, at this moment the boatmen began to demand more money, two of them at least, the third remained silent. Perhaps he was ashamed – or dumb. These two spoke in turn encouraging each other.

I see them quite clearly in my mind’s eye, the days in this cell have done nothing to cloud my memory, I always from childhood had the faculty of remembering well, not merely vividly but in detail, when I worked as an apprentice stone-cutter for the Carthusians at Pavia – having run from the life of goatherd in my village – I was known for my ability to copy window mouldings and all the details of
modanatura
from memory. (Umberto of Bavagna was my master then, I learned the elements of my trade from the monks and even some Latin along with the stone-cutting.) One was young and smooth-faced but he had a diseased eye, the other older, spitting frequently over the side, both grey with the dust of the depot, in loud voices they explained to me and others who had congregated – Venice being at all times of day full of people with nothing to do but stare – what labour it had been to transport this block of Istrian stone from the terraferma.

My lord, they had been paid already. I would have given them something,
una bene andata
, but they were asking for a whole scudo. My eyes became confused with anger. Fortunately they were out of reach, God thereby saving me from violence, which he has done often before, otherwise they would have repented their insolence, sons of whores. I will confess that I am passionate by nature, my elements of heat are not properly blended, I was conceived in July, the worst possible month for the passions, my mother was barely eighteen, too young even for the limited balance women may achieve, Vegi tells us this, a woman cannot be
ragionevole e intendere
, even
seconda donna
, until she is twenty at least and moreover I suspect that my father was too eager and intemperate in his approaches to her, though naturally evidence for this is lacking.

So in this heat of the moment I may have said unwise things, but nothing against Venetians or the state of Venice, that I can swear to. But there was hostility towards me in the crowd because of my Piedmontese accent – a crowd had gathered now, my neighbours the saddle-makers, Marsuppini father and son, who have since given evidence against me, two lads with trays of cakes, various idlers. But I never said anything against them, I have the highest regard for the citizens of this great Republic.

They saw my weakness, that spitting rogue and the other with the crusted eye, and they exploited it to the full – typical Venetians. A barca loaded with grain was seeking to pass but could not because the rio is narrow and the barge took up the space so the oarsman of the other boat grew quickly impatient and joined in the shouting. I threw the silver down into the hold. This was from the money the friars of the Supplicanti had paid me on signing the contract for the Madonna, money to live on while I executed the work not throw down for these animals to scramble for, but they did not mind the indignity, being creatures of a low order, and were now all smiles and made haste to swing the block over, and I myself forgot everything else, seeing the stone settled on its rollers and manoeuvred into place on the workshop floor, workshop that was also living room and sleeping place to me.

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