The eye in this city acquires an autonomy similar to that of a tear.
The only difference is that it doesn't sever itself from the body but subordinates it totally. After a while - on the third or fourth day here - the body starts to regard itself as merely the eye's carrier, as a kind of submarine to its now dilating, now squinting periscope... This of course owes to the local topography,
to the streets-narrow, meandering like eels-that finally bring you to a flounder of a [campo] with a cathedral in the middle of it, barnacled with saints and flaunting its Medusa-like cupolas. No matter what you set out for as you leave the house here, you are bound to get lost in these long, coiling lanes and passageways that beguile you to see them through, to follow them to their elusive end, which usually hits water, so that you can't even call it a cul-de-sac. On the map this city looks like two grilled fish sharing a plate, or perhaps like two
nearly overlapping lobster claws; but it has no north, south, east, or west; the only direction it has is sideways. It surrounds you like frozen seaweed, and the more you dart and dash about trying to get your bearings, the more you get lost.
Joseph Brodsky, “Watermark”
#travelgems #brodsky #reisen #venezia #venice #venedig #fondamentadegliincurabili #набережнаянеисцелимых #бродский #венеция #italia #literature - 12 hours ago