The Stones of Venice is a three-volume overview of the history of Venetian architecture. To provide a detailed chapter-by-chapter summary of all three volumes would stretch the capacity of the limited space here and one’s patience. Although Ruskin was very hot stuff at one time, his reputation has declined severely since his death and even the most intensive summaries of his most famous work tend toward a very generalized encapsulation. In fact, many do not even bother separating the volumes at hand.
The opening volume of his massive three-part exploration of the most vibrant and creative period in architectural history of western civilization commences with a contextual history of the growth of the unique city of Venice. This is, one should recall, that famous Italian city with the gondolas ferrying citizens along canals rather than carriages through streets. Venice is subsequently presented as something much more than a mere city; its unique qualities has the power to create a mythic status among citizens and tourists alike that has been described by one more than critic as the equivalent among communities to that of the brooding Byronic hero whose very depth of mystery and passion facilitates an easy overlooking of standard urban failures. This Byronesque beauty is most perfectly encapsulated, of course, in its architectural dazzle and it is this aspect which brings the author to it as the place from which to begin his history.
The central element of the Venetian architecture which draws the literary imagination of Ruskin is its place in history where three very distinct, defined and well-imagined schools of architectural design collided: Arabian ornamentation, Roman foundation and the Lombard shafts and arches. If these three competing yet remarkably interconnected aspects of architecture represent the apex of the art form, then the zenith of their integration would be the city’s Ducal Palace. It is within this building that the Arabian, Roman and Lombard influences come together in an almost perfectly tripartite demonstration of sublime perfect.
From this contextual situating of history, Ruskin introduces the controlling thematic premise which will carry him forward through three complete volumes which map our the rise and fall of Venetian architecture and design: each of these three components brought with them not just the sturdy concrete introduction of hard work and aesthetic vision, but also morality and values informed by their distinct religious faiths and practices. Whether pagan superstitions of pre-Christian Roman civilization or the obvious influence of Vatican dictates on the connection between design elements and aesthetic commemoration, the rise and height of Venetian is embodied in Volume 1 is a story of the nobility of craftsmanship in the surface of a higher religious purpose.
The next two volumes detail the collapse of Venetian architectural brilliance and is also a history lesson in the origins of the persistent movement away from the sacred and secular, from the creation of buildings to honor the glory of God and toward that of honoring more commercial interests. Volume 2 traces the evolution of architecture into the those epochs now considered among the highest levels of achievement—the Byzantine and Gothic eras. While not denying the sheer artistic genius of expression of these revolutionary changes to conventional design theories, Ruskin reveals the dirt behind the daydream. The greatness that makes those Gothic cathedrals and Byzantine labyrinths such works of awe to look at comes at a price: the sacrifice of what is term truth and honesty. These works enthrall because they are deceptive, relying upon the falsity of grandness and size to attain those open-mouth, wide-eyed portraits of impressed crowds.
Finally, with Volume 3, Ruskin reaches his inevitable conclusion: Venetian architecture has been subsumed by a degradation of focus on what he terms “folly and hypocrisy.” Simple myth created for the purpose of commercial appeal takes the place of representation of the glory of God awesome power. Essentially, the three volumes which comprise Ruskin’s masterwork, The Stones of Venice, tells a surprisingly modern parable in which the descriptive passages of the art of design that comprises the overwhelming bulk of the narrative become metaphors for economic revolution and the inexorable collapse of artistic purity in the pursuit of commercial endeavor.
What might be of some surprise to modern readers is that the section titled “The Fall” actually consists of chapters with the following subtitles: “Early Renaissance” and “Roman Renaissance.” Yes, the third volume concludes the overview of the history of Venetian architecture by isolating the Renaissance at the beginning of the Dark Ages of architectural genius in Venice.
