I have many eclectic lists, dear to my heart – of books to read, of films to watch, of articles to study, of places to go – and I’ll have to live much over 100 to do it all. But one thing is certain: I’ve got Volterra down, and I’m grateful I’d caught the whiff on the net that brought me there.
It’s quite far from me, as things go, that’s why I’ve only been there for the first time two weeks ago with my uncle, after Castiglioncello. It’s another of these bragging towns on a hill, flaunting it, not afraid in the least of some Turks, for example. Oh Italia, where are you taking your cheek from? Could it be all the way from the times when the Roman Empire ruled the world?
I’ve just finished the Neapolitan series by Elena Ferrante which starts with “My Brilliant Friend”. All four books went by in a flash. It is one thing reading this in the comfort of your own home which is NOT in Italy, and quite another to be right here, although not in Naples where the story takes place.
And just now, by accident, I’ve discovered that the true identity of the author, who has been writing under a pseudonym, is revealed. A journalist tracked her down by large payments her publishing house was placing on her account. She is working as a translator for this publishing house. Somebody followed the money in search of the name everybody was wondering about.
One thing is for certain: Napoli never forgets. Alas, her family moved from Napoli to Roma when she was three years old. Still, let’s just hope she doesn’t have any young grandchildren. Or he.
Volterra, on the other hand, is not even close. Let’s go there instead.
Photo: a © signature mmm production