Seduction for Casanova was an art form; and if was not accompanied by love, conversation, laughter, food and music it was a sorry affair. Maybe that’s why he did not rise to the occasion in the Cockspur Street brothel. Yorkshire pud is not the food of love. Kelly structures the biography like an opera, and his intermezzi include illuminating diversions on travel, the wider context of sex in the 18th century, the cabbala and on Casanova’s connoisseur interest in sensual enjoyment, particularly food. Casanova was brought to the brink of excitement, some readers may find it interesting to note, after ‘a cup full of chocolate and the whites of six fresh eggs … in a salad dressed with Lucca oil and Four Thieves vinegar’.
By re-examining Casanova’s life in this way Kelly has written an adult book, or I should say one for grown-ups. There are no rippings of corsets here or purple passages (although there are salacious incidents). Kelly has made good use of archives throughout Europe to fill in the details, corroborate or correct Casanova’s much mistrusted memoirs; it is impressive work. He pays him the compliment of taking him seriously as man of genuine historical interest. As a traveller, man of learning and gourmand, Casanova illuminates his times and provides details which, read the right way, are of great use to historians. The Venetian may have failed in his aim to conquer European literature; he may not have been entirely honourable; and even his libido gave way to an embarrassing decline. But it is perhaps these flaws which make him engaging. The writings for which he remains famous continued the performance after the protagonist himself had retired to the wings, and they found their place in literature eventually. He continues to seduce because he brought more to sex — and sex writing — than the mere act. Ian Kelly captures this aspect of Casanova perfectly.
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