MR. BERENDT'S PARTY.(The Talk of the Town)(John Berendt, author)

Mr. Berendt, like Mrs. Dalloway, said that he would buy the flowers himself. The vases were filled with white roses. It was quarter past seven. He arranged some slivers of cheese on a tray, then opened the refrigerator and pressed a palm to a green bottle. It was almost chilled. "We said, 'We'll bring the wine,' " Mary Kay Gallagher explained, "and he said, 'No, no, I've got it taken care of.' " Gallagher is one of the founders of the Prospect Park South book club, whose monthly gathering Berendt had offered to host. The guests were due to arrive in fifteen minutes.

John Berendt is the author of "The City of Falling Angels," a social anatomy of Venice, which debuted, in September, at the top of the Times' best-seller list. Eight years ago, the group, having just finished Berendt's first book, "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil," invited him to Prospect Park South for a discussion and a potluck dinner. "It was in a Victorian-type home, and we thought he'd like to see it," Gallagher, who was wearing a gold "Brooklyn" brooch, said. Berendt's appearance was a success, and, this year, the group decided to try him again. He had been on tour and was feeling like a bit of a homebody. He asked if instead they might like to come over to his place, a newly renovated town house on West Eighty-seventh Street.

At just past seven-thirty, the doorbell chimed. Myra and Matthew Zuckerbraun were the first to show up. Berendt took their coats and led them upstairs, to the parlor. Soon, their neighbor Allan Waltzman, a psychoanalyst with a mustache and black Velcro shoes, walked in. "Your purple basil has taken over my garden!" Waltzman said to the Zuckerbrauns, in a stentorian voice. "My wife puts it in everything." Matthew put a hand on his shoulder. "You poor man. If you don't mind things that spread, I'll give you some mint."

A woman pointed to an end table, where Berendt had a book about Venice's opera house, which figures prominently in his story. "Oh, look, La Fenice," she said, pronouncing the word so that it rhymed with "Venice." She was quickly corrected: "No, ...