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The Blind Contessa's New Machine

The Blind Contessa's New Machine

3.6 13
by Carey Wallace

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An iridescent jewel of a novel that proves love is the mother of invention

In the early 1800s, a young Italian contessa, Carolina Fantoni, realizes she is going blind shortly before she marries the town's most sought-after bachelor. Her parents don't believe her, nor does her fiancé. The only one who understands is the eccentric local inventor and


An iridescent jewel of a novel that proves love is the mother of invention

In the early 1800s, a young Italian contessa, Carolina Fantoni, realizes she is going blind shortly before she marries the town's most sought-after bachelor. Her parents don't believe her, nor does her fiancé. The only one who understands is the eccentric local inventor and her longtime companion, Turri. When her eyesight dims forever, Carolina can no longer see her beloved lake or the rich hues of her own dresses. But as darkness erases her world, she discovers one place she can still see-in her dreams. Carolina creates a vivid dreaming life, in which she can not only see, but also fly, exploring lands she had never known.

Desperate to communicate with Carolina, Turri invents a peculiar machine for her: the world's first typewriter. His gift ignites a passionate love affair that will change both of their lives forever.

Based on the true story of a nineteenth-century inventor and his innovative contraption, The Blind Contessa's New Machine is an enchanting confection of love and the triumph of the imagination.

Editorial Reviews

Dreamy and imaginative, Wallace's debut is as luxurious as fine chocolate, its sensual details transporting readers to early 19th-century Italy, and its timeless message of love and triumph in the face of disappointment and frailty enduring long after its final, satisfying pages have been turned.

As her wedding day approaches, Carolina realizes that her eyesight is fading at an alarming rate. Neither her dashing fiancé, Pietro, nor her parents take her seriously when she informs them of her rapidly narrowing world. The one person who believes her is a frivolous dreamer with a scandalous reputation, Turri. A charismatic young inventor who lives nearby, he is clearly smitten with Carolina.

In desperation, Carolina turns to Turri, meeting him secretly at her private lake house, picturing in her mind the fanciful drawings from the books he has given her, which she can no longer see. Turri's love is the wings on which Carolina's imagination soars, and their bond is sealed when he presents her with a "writing machine" — an invention she can use despite her blindness.

Loosely based on the true story of a 19th-century inventor, The Blind Contessa's New Machine is as elegant and lyrical as it is original and quirky.

Drawing on a fairy-tale tone and setting, Wallace delivers a love story freed from the shackles of sight, a modern invention of her own.

Product Details

Penguin Group (USA) Incorporated
Publication date:
Product dimensions:
7.40(w) x 5.42(h) x 0.83(d)
Age Range:
18 Years

Read an Excerpt

On the day Contessa Carolina Fantoni was married, only one other living person knew that she was going blind, and he was not her groom.

This was not because she had failed to warn them.

"I am going blind," she had blurted to her mother, in the welcome dimness of the family coach, her eyes still bright with tears from the searing winter sun. By this time, her peripheral vision was already gone. Carolina could feel her mother take her hand, but she had to turn to see her face. When she did, her mother kissed her, her own eyes full of pity.

"I have been in love, too," she said, and looked away.

"Papa," Carolina had said.

Her father had laid his magnifying glass down on the map unrolled before him. Amournful sea monster loomed below the lens. Although it was the middle of the day, the blindness shrouded the bookshelves that rose behind him in false dusk. Only the large window over his head and the desk itself were still bright and clear.

"Nonna was blind when she died," Carolina said.

Her father nodded. "And for years before that," he said. "But I only half believed it. It was like she had another pair of eyes hidden in a box. She knew everything."

"Did she ever tell you how it happened?" Carolina asked.

Her father shook his head. "I was very young then."

"I think maybe I am going blind," Carolina told him.

Her father frowned. After considering this for a moment, he waved his hand before his face. When her eyes followed it, he broke into a wide grin.

"Ah, but you haven't yet!" he said.

She had told Pietro in the garden, when her mother had left them alone for a few moments under a sky full of stars that Carolina could snuff out or call back into existence simply by turning her head.

Pietro had laughed and laughed.

"What are you going to tell me next?" he had asked her, between kisses. "I suppose you can fly as well? And turn into a cat?"

"Already I can't see things," she insisted. "Around the edges."

"Next you will tell me you have forgotten how to kiss," Pietro said, and kissed her again.

In those first days, Carolina measured her losses by the size of her lake. Her father had dammed a length of the small river that wandered their property as a present to her mother on their fifth anniversary. But as an amateur in these things, he had only clumsily dredged the surrounding marsh. The resulting body of water, thirty paces long and half again as wide, was in no place deep enough for a man to stand fully submerged. His young wife, still homesick for the sea, had tramped loyally across the soggy ground with him on the day of her anniversary but never returned voluntarily, so when Carolina turned seven, her father had scattered stone benches on the grassy shore, filled the lake's surface with lantern-lit boats, and made a new present of it to his daughter.

This time it was received gratefully, with an appreciation that manifested, in its early days, as tyranny: already Carolina had developed a passion for solitude, and from the date of her seventh birthday demanded that she be allowed to visit the lake, which sat half a mile from the house through vine-choked pines, entirely unaccompanied. After all, she argued, what else could it mean to own something?

Completely overthrown by this reasoning, her father agreed, despite her mother's misgivings, which, from long years of disregard, had finally gone to ground and begun to emerge again as sleeplessness, forgetfulness, and truly unspeakable fears.

From this point, it became Carolina's daily habit to walk to the lake, now silver with rain, now black, now gray, now solid ice, clear or milky depending on how quickly a freeze had taken it. In her tenth year, winter's arrival had been both swift and brutal, so that the frozen lake retained an eerie clarity that allowed Carolina to see all the way to the bottom in most places, laying bare her watery property's mysteries: the sunken branches, the green weeds, the fishes' bare, bowl-shaped nests, and the deeper channel of the dammed river's original path. With a broom borrowed from the kitchen maid to sweep the snow away, Carolina spent hours in her surveying, her face red and lips blue when she arrived at that winter's dinners.

That spring, her mother had insisted her father build Carolina some kind of shelter on the banks, and he had erected a one-room cottage of unpainted wood, stained red, a few strides from the water. Light poured into it through glass windows set in all four walls. A collection of worn rugs covered the floor. The furniture was sparse: an old couch weighed down with patched velvet quilts, a desk, and a chair. The room was small. Standing in the middle of it, his arms outstretched, Carolina's father could almost touch both walls. A fireplace opened at the foot of a slim chimney behind a screen worked with brass mermaids, another of her father's well-intentioned but unsuccessful presents to her mother, who found all reminders of the sea not a comfort but a grief.

Once the cottage was built, the great house lost its grip on Carolina completely. She passed more of the nights of her remaining childhood on the couch at her cottage than in her own bed, buried like a black-eyed field mouse in piles of thick velvet, or naked in the warmth the summer sun left as a remembrance after it set. On warm nights, she threw the windows open and tacked fine scarves over them to foil the insects. Outside, the frogs and birds sang their boasts, hopes, and threats.

Because she had first learned the lake with a child's eyes, Carolina was able to believe for a while that the fact that she could no longer take it in with a single glance was just another of the many tricks her body had played on her in the mysterious operation of turning her into a young woman. The church, and the distance to the city, and the grand ballroom's once-endless expanse had all shrunk as she grew up. Why should the lake be any different?

But just after her eighteenth birthday, around the time she and Pietro were engaged, the trouble with focus at the borders of her vision advanced. She could no longer recognize figures at a dance until she turned to face them directly. At the same time, her sight contracted, as if some unseen spirit had cupped his hands on either side of her head, blotting out her sight to the right and left. The rest was lost in darkness.

Turri, of course, had understood immediately. He had raised his own hands to either side of his face. "Like this?" he asked.

Carolina nodded.

For an instant, his blue eyes widened with worry. Then they changed. He still looked directly into her face, but his focus was on something far beyond her, his mind casting through the books of an invisible library. Carolina hated this expression: sometimes it passed in an instant, but often it meant she had lost him to his thoughts for the afternoon.

For the moment, however, he was still gathering evidence. "For how long?" he asked.

"Half a year," she said. "Since before Christmas."

Beyond the silk pinned in the lake house windows, a summer loon sang a few notes, then lapsed back into thought.

"I've read about it," Turri said. "Blindness can come from the sides, or from the center."

"The center?" Carolina repeated.

"Like an eclipse, in the center of your vision. But it's permanent. And the darkness grows from there."

"But in my case, it is collapsing from the outside," she said.

"That is the other kind."

Tears sprang to Carolina's eyes. She allowed them to cloud her vision, grateful for a blindness she could wipe away with a flick of her wrist. When the tears passed, Turri sat gazing at her as if she were a new problem in math.

"How long?" she asked.

"I'm sure it is different in every case."

When she didn't look away, he dropped his gaze. "I can find out," he said.

"Thank you."

"Have you told Pietro?" he asked.

She nodded.

Turri studied her for a moment longer, then gave a short laugh. "But he doesn't know."

She shook her head.

Turri took her hand.

For once, she let him.

Meet the Author

Carey Wallace grew up in small towns in Michigan. She has worked as a waitress, private biographer, and lady’s maid to an automotive heiress. The founder of The Hillbilly Underground — a retreat that draws international artists to rural Michigan — she lives in Brooklyn, New York. This is her first novel.

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The Blind Contessa's New Machine 3.6 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 14 reviews.
Anna-Marie More than 1 year ago
I loved this book and hated it all at the same time. It is a beautiful confession written in such a way that that you feel as if you are watching the whole story through a snow globe. That distance combined with Wallace's wonderful way with words give this slim volume the enchantment of a fairy tale. There is a surreal feel to the characters that could only exist in such story, at once beloved but unattainable. The Blind Contessa's New Machine is the story of a young woman who is going blind. The novel pays meticulous attention to what she can and can not see painting for the reader lavish and sometime fanciful watercolors of words as the Contessa moves about both in the waking world and that of her dreams. There is only one soul who seems to understand her - his is a long time friend and fellow dreamer a few years her senior. They both seem to have an easy acceptance of the others eccentricities, and would seem a match except that he is married and she is about to be. I finished this novel with a notebook full of quotes that had to added to my collection and a general dissatisfy feeling as I wanted this to be the fairy tale I'd felt it was in my mind and instead I got the mundane world ending that I suppose was enviable. I am far too much a romantic dreamer myself to be able to easily reconcile this things in my mind. I believe the author herself provided a quote that captures a bit of the feeling I had when I turned the last page. "She found herself wishing for the Pietro her heart had constructed over the previous years: sure-footed, understanding, and fearless, to come rescue her from Pietro himself as he rambled on at her side. The wish made her dizzy." P 47
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
The story is so original--and even magical in its heavy use of scenery and emotion to convey how imagination can trump reality--that I was very disappointed in the ending. That's the reason I can't rate it 5 stars; the ending was abrupt and the epilogue didn't compensate for that flaw as it should have. Regardless, I really enjoyed living in Carolina's world while reading the story, and the author must be skilled when a reader can easily and happily transport him/herself into the novel. So, I highly recommend this book. It's an original read, despite an unsatisfying ending.
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nyauthoress More than 1 year ago
Carolina, a newly engaged woman surrounded by the beauty of a 19th century Italian villa, revels in her daydreams until she realizes she is going blind. Her family worries if their villa's shady garden can sustain a grove of lemon trees while Carolina observes rather than fears her encroaching blindness. Ironically, Carey Wallace's evocative prose is awash with images that invite the eye to retrace many a sentence. The author then masterfully invites us into the world of the sightless with descriptions of the other senses spilling over each page. "The woods chatter." "The insect's strong body beat against her eyelids." "Sugar. She lifted her finger from her tongue." Under Wallace's pen, Carolina experiences the world so clearly, we are stunned to discover that she needs a writing machine. I need not comment about the love story in the plot as other reviewers have. Frankly, plot was quite secondary in this reader's mind to the perception of how well Carolina lived in her dark world. When her other senses do not give her enough, she wills her dreams to take her to places where she can envision what she loves. This extraordinary debut novel moved me with its insight and eloquence. I disagree with the review that cited blindness as being the central idea in the book. I found the novel remarkably illuminating and an absolute delight to read.
Frisbeesage More than 1 year ago
The Blind Contessa's New Machine - What a clumsy title for a lovely little book! This is the story of Carolina Fantoni, a young contessa, adventurous and independent, who goes blind. No one of her acquaintance knows how to treat her once she goes blind so she becomes totally isolated and trapped in her own home. An intelligent and resourceful woman she learns to travel and fly in her dreams. Then a childhood friend, Turri, an eccentric inventor builds her a typewriter to help her reconnect with the world. The invention of the typewriter has unforeseen consequences and both their lives are changed. To begin with the plot of this book is interesting and unusual and the author makes good use of it. She explores what it must have been like to be so afflicted in a time were was no awareness of the blind and how to help them. Carolina's utter isolation and how she, and the people around her, handle it were fascinating topics to consider. However, what really makes this book is the gorgeous, poetic writing. The details are all written in with an artist's touch until I could clearly see with all my senses. Carolina's lake, in particular, feels like a real place that I could visit anytime. The dust jacket calls this "an iridescent jewel of a novel" and I couldn't agree more!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
DebsSweet More than 1 year ago
Such an interesting book - it pulls you in so that you can 'see' what Carolina sees (or later, doesn't see). No wasted words, not extensive descriptions to attempt to lengthen the book. Just a well written and interesting story of a young lady who is going blind.
bridget3420 More than 1 year ago
Carolina's eyesight is growing dim. Neither her husband-to-be nor her parents acknowledge this fact, but Carolina has found a way to accept what has happened. When her sight is completely gone, she escapes the real world into a land of endless possibilities. She says goodbye to real life and enters a world where she can fly free. The only person who is truly there for Carolina is Turri. When he constructs the first typewriter, for her, they tumble into a passionate love affair. I fell in love with this book! Turri is the kind of guy every girl wants - one that will do anything for her because he wants to, not because it's expected of him. I would say that this book rivals The Notebook. Romance fans everywhere will happily jump into Carolina's shoes because she may not be able to see the outside world, but she can see love in a way that most people never do.