Rococo: A Novel

by Adriana Trigiani Narrated by Stephen Hoye

Overview

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER ¿*One small Italian American town in America gets the makeover it never expected in this “eccentric, unpredictable, entertaining” (The Boston Globe)*novel*from the author of the beloved Big Stone Gap series

“An artfully designed tale [with] characters so lively they bounce off the page [and] wit so subtle that even the best jokes seem effortless.”-People

Bartolomeo di Crespi is the acclaimed interior decorator-not to mention the most eligible bachelor-in Our Lady of Fatima, New Jersey. From the dazzling shores of the Garden State to the legendary fabric houses of New York City, from the prickly purveyors of fine art in London to the Mediterranean coast of Italy, Bartolomeo is on a mission to bring talent, sophistication, and his aesthetic vision to his hometown. So when the renovation of the local church is scheduled, he assumes there is only one man to oversee the job.

Recruiting an artist and a stained-glass artisan to help with the project-two handsome men who create romantic mayhem among Bartolomeo's sister, his erstwhile fiancée, and all the other lovelorn ladies of OLOF-Bartolomeo struggles to create art while remaining the steadfast linchpin of the volatile di Crespi clan. Together, Bartolomeo and his team will do more than blow the dust off the old Fatima frescoes-they will turn the town upside down, challenge the faithful, and restore hope where there once was none.

Editorial Reviews

Kirkus Reviews

Kitschy, quaintly amusing Italian-American saga from Trigiani (Lucia, Lucia, 2003, etc.). The endearing narrator is Batholomeo di Crespi, known as "B," a bachelor decorator in the upscale New Jersey town of Our Lady of Fatima (or OLOF), circa 1970. His exquisite taste in fabrics and decor have made B well respected in OLOF; he's decorated all the important houses, from his divorced older sister's Georgian manor to Aurelia Mandelbaum's mansion. Aurelia's myopic daughter Capri, still living at home at age 40, has been B's unofficial fiancee for 20 years, but this was their mothers' idea, not theirs. B avoids the messiness of romantic relationships, preferring to spend his time making the world elegant: "The rococo period where French design and Italian flair came together make my heart leap for joy." At the moment, he's got his eye trained nostalgically on the restoration of the town's Catholic church. Once he wrests the commission away from a fancy New York firm, B is faced with the scary task of having to turn his vision into reality. Conveniently, he meets a fancy Park Avenue architect and historian, Eydie Von Gunne, who specializes in churches and can recommend expert craftsmen. But first, B soothes his artistic crisis with a trip to England, where he buys Monica Vitti's chandelier, and then to Italy with Capri, who decides to live a little in spite of him. B embarks on the church restoration with the help of Brooklyn's noted fresco painter Rufus McSherry, who urges him to be daring rather than conventional. Resourceful B even saves the day by raising the last-minute money for the church's final stage. Trigiani's story manages to transcend its fluffiness by virtue of her unique andwinning protagonist, the determinedly single B, who loves his family but resists the pressure to make one of his own. Reams of furnishings detail and messy family histrionics.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940169263589
Publisher:	Penguin Random House
Publication date:	06/21/2005
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

The Duke of Décor

on the Jersey Shore

1970

I want you to imagine my house. It's a classic English country cottage, nestled on an inlet overlooking the Atlantic Ocean in the borough of Our Lady of Fatima, New Jersey, about five miles north of Interlaken. The fieldstone exterior gives the illusion of a small fortress, so I softened the overall effect with white hyacinth shrubs and a blanket of sky-blue morning glories cascading over the dormers like loose curls on a cherub. After all, a man's home must first be inviting.

Every morning at sunrise a honeyed pink light fills the front room, throwing a rosy glaze on the walls that cannot be achieved with paint. Believe me, I've tried. I settled instead for a neutral shade on the walls, a delicate beige I call flan. When the walls are tame, the furnishings need to pop. So I found the perfect chintz, with giant jewel-toned flowers of turquoise, coral, and jade bursting on a butter-yellow background, to cover my Louis Quatorze sofa and chairs. The upholstery soaks up the light and warms the room better than a fire blazing in the hearth. Anyone who says you will tire of a bold pattern on your furniture is a fool. The right fabric will give you years of joy; it can become your signature. Scalamandré's Triomphe #26301 has my name on it.

My day begins at dawn as I take my cup of strong black espresso outside to watch the sunrise. I learned this ritual from my mother, who worked in a bread shop. Bakers are the great philosophers of the world, mostly because they have to get up early. When the world is quiet, great art is created--or, at the very least, conceptualized. Now is the moment to sketch, make notes, and dream.

From my front porch, a dignified, simple portal with a slate floor (I laid the charcoal-gray, dusty-mauve, and smoky-blue slabs myself), I watch the colors of the sky and sea change at the whims of the wind. Sometimes the ocean crashes in foamy white waves that look like ruffles. Then, suddenly, the light is gone and everything turns to gray satin. When the sun returns, the charcoal clouds lift away and the world becomes as tranquil as a library, the water as flat as a page in a book, Venetian glass under a blue cloudless sky.

What a boon to live on the water! Such delicious shades and hues! This is a template worthy of the greatest painters. The textures of sand and stone could inspire incomparable sculptures, and the sounds--the steady lapping of the waves, the sweet chirping of the birds--make this a sanctuary. I soak up the view in all its detail and translate this glorious palette to the interiors of local homes. You see, I am the Town Decorator.

Many have compared our little borough to the village my family emigrated from, the enchanting Santa Margherita nestled in the Gulf of Genoa on the Mediterranean coast of Italy. I've been there, but I favor my hometown over the original. Italy, despite its earthiness and charm, can never be New Jersey. Here we value evolution and change; Italy, while it warms the heart, is a monument to the past. In America we change our rooms as often as our fashions. In Italy you're likely to find throw pillows older than the Shroud of Turin. It's just a different way to live.

Part of my job is to convince my clients that change is good, then guide them to the right choices. I remember when I installed a velvet headboard on my...

Videos