Although I opened the book with great anticipation, I found it surprisingly boring. Berendt pads the story with numbing descriptions of palaces and mansions. He spends so much time eyeballing ceilings it's a wonder he survived with his neck intact. Adding insult to injury, he then veers into a Reader's Digest history of Venice, with profiles of famous former inhabitants. All of which can be found elsewhere. Midnight... was a classic work. This book was simply unnecessary.