Virtuosos of a One Man Band

Paul Hofmann is the author of the book, "That Fine Italian Hand", chapter 10 is titled, "Virtuosos Without Orchestra" and it is a piece that is as witty as it is insightful and descriptive of his topic, the individualism that is Italian culture. A seemingly simple observation about the lack of lines and competitive driving in Italy is used to display an insightful commentary on Italian individualism; "Any first-time visitor to the country will notice many telltale signs of its inhabitants' exuberant individualism. Like the Italians' distaste for lining up in orderly queues, their driving habits are a symptom of their self-interest and their need to excel". The piece is very informative but equally insightful; Hofmann is particularly persuasive though because he presents the reader with his insight then logically supports it with verifiable information.
The piece taught me a lot about Italian culture in general and their political culture more specifically, he references the notion of competition as an ever-present example of the tension in life. As I mentioned earlier Hofmann uses the topic of driving to convey several aspects of culture. We see an example of this when he discusses driving in Italy; "Driving on Italian highways and in the congested cities is a highly competitive undertaking in which motorists continually muster all their skills and cunning, always prepared for the worst from everyone else on the road".
This type of writing is also an example of Hofmann's descriptive style and good use of relatable comparisons, one in particular that he carries throughout the piece is musically based; "Players in an Italian musical body - always referred to as the 'professors of the orchestra' - dislike being subordinate to the conductor as much as local soldiers detest having to obey their sergeant or lieutenant". He continues this idea referencing it throughout the piece with insightful remarks like, "There seems to be no desire, in or outside the country, for a national Italian 'orchestra'".
He successfully utilizes the title, using it as a recurring theme that he carries throughout the piece, specifically referencing it at one point saying, "The fine Italian hand has forever to grope for new supports and crevices, like a climber on a rock face. This all may sound perilous, yet for most italians the need for continual maneuvering - at the wheels of their car, at the office or on the shop floor, in their love lives - seems to add zest to their existence". He ties this idea and cultural insight neatly back into the conclusion referencing both the comparison that occurs in the title as well as the implications it has for their cultural climate closing with, "There are drawbacks, as this book has shown. But the Italians are virtuosos at coping with them".

Sent from my iPhone

Italian Seduction: A Dark Force

"The Means of Seduction" is a piece from author Tobias Jones' book, "The Dark Heart of Italy". Simply in terms of providing a piece with an accurate and descriptive title that permeates the entirety of the article, Jones succeeds. The title aptly describes the overall focus of the piece and its purpose. We see this in several areas, from television to eroticism to politics, and it applies to all of then. Perhaps the darkest example of the seduction Jones speaks of is in reference to Berlusconi and his media hold; "By now the most convincing explanation, albeit the most mundane, for Berlusconi's political appeal is the simple fact that he controls three television channels. Having a politician who owns three television channels turns any election into the equivalent of a football match in which one team kicks-off with a three-goal advantage". This is also an example of how he makes an insightful observation but, makes it relatable by describing it in terms of an understandable comparison.
Jones is a perceptive and extremely insightful writer, instead of just dictating information to the reader, the reader learns through him and his experiences. The piece is well written and instead of just making blanket statements he makes a point then supports the observation with facts. An example of this can be seen when he discusses the excessive nature of advertising Italian television; he supports the observation with the fact, "57% of all Italian advertising budgets are sunk into television; in Britain the figure is 33.5%, in Germany only 23%".
While the piece is undeniable educational there are a lot of topics to keep track of and some tangents, a rather lengthy italicized one in particular, is a bit confusing in some parts but, he does a very good job at talking about the visual aspect of Italian culture. This is discussed in most length with reference to their television culture and the eroticism that permeates almost every area of their culture, immensely overpowering the literary aspect. He tells us how truly visual a society Italy really is with observations like, "To survive, the edible - the little pavilions on street corners which sell newspapers - have to double as fetish shops, selling gadgets and videos and soft-porn magazines alongside the newsprint". As someone who noticed this for the first time and proceeded to perform an awkwardly obvious double take, I can attest to the accuracy of this statement and the significance behind it.
Alongside the history and information though Jones also writes humorously about the differences between British and Italian manners, referencing an instance where he had to tell his Italian football mates that they could not refer to their British counterparts as beautiful or dear, the Italians of course wimpy did not understand this coldness. It is in this way, in addition to the history and facts that Jones informs his reader, this time through personal experience.
As I mentioned before he is a very perceptive writer and he makes many important insights into the culture and place, regarding issues such as the lack of literary importance, the prevalence of eroticism and the lack of feminism. He does not sugar coat the latter and says very matter-of-factly, "It becomea clear that Italy is the land that feminism forgot". In case you are doubting this point he references several examples included one television debate he watched where the woman hosting the debate, "...other than serving the men coffee, took off an item of clothing each time the political debate became tedious". It is these type of bold examples and insights that are seen throughout the piece in every area, even comparing Berlusconi to Musselini and having no qualms about it. Jones is clearly a skilled writer and makes a strong argument for the darkness of "the means of seduction" that entice Italians at every opportunity.

Sent from my iPhone

Italy like Tangled Phone Lines

"Residenza" is a short piece by author Tim Parks that takes a personal experience of dealing with issues of residency and phone bills in the Italian culture and conveys some cultural knowledge to the reader. While the piece does make some useful insights about the round-about style of many things in Italian culture. For instance his observation on Italian conversations, "So many conversations in Italy follow these serpentine paths, with new laws and regulations constantly raising their ugly heads to turn the most obvious ways forward into dead ends". Anyone who's had a conversation while in Italy knows this is often the case.
However, some of the main material i.e paying phone bills is un-relatable (at least at this juncture in my 20-something life). He does make some good observations though about the differences between the Italian onion of "residency" as compared to other cultures. He also relates this aspect well to other cultural significances, such as the troubles with Italian bureaucracy, saying, "Bureaucracy is a huge tangle of sticky string in which every attempt to loosen one knot tightens another". He closes by citing an example of the confusing serpentine paths that many Italian aspects follow when he mentions a scenario where several bills are in the name of a man who is deceased. The ending feels a little abrupt but nonetheless it gets the point across, but I think it could have connected to the introduction a bit more fluidly or provided a slightly different perspective than the traditional one that it does.

Sent from my iPhone

Time the Italian Way

"On Italian Time", is a short piece by Mary Morris that looks at the culture of Italy through their own special timing. The piece is both informative and relatable because as a reader and fellow traveller I am able to connect to her on the tourist level, but I am also able to relate to the Italian perspective she presents through her experience.
Her writing style is personal but intuitive, she says some very accurate and insightful things but she presents them in a very honest way.
For example this passage, "I am not a cynic and I live Italy. But I have discovered that time and space are relative notions there. I have followed signs to the Palazzo Grassi that led directly into a wall, and floated the wrong way down a one-way canal, the gondolier shouting all the way. I've read timetables that had no relation to actual departure times, and followed a sign to Verona that in fifteen minutes brought me back full circle to the place on Lake Garda where I had begun". It's not an overly romantic observation but it's an honest and accurate portrayal of the everyday, and this makes it relatable so that I appreciate the candidness. This might be due in part to the fact that I've recently been able to have the travel experience. Having had the experience for myself allows me to appreciate the accuracy of the reporting and makes it that mug more apparent and relatable.

Sent from my iPhone

Special Ed

"My Special Education", is a piece by David Farley that is personable and humorous but also teaches the reader something about language (somewhat in terms of a language barrier) and Italian culture. Telling us first and foremost that the main purpose for his travel is a quest for the disappearance of a Calcata town relic, the Holy Foreakin, how can you not laugh at that?
His writing style is light-hearted but informative, in part because of its confessional style. The first two pages of the piece are dedicated to background information about him and his struggles in the school system as someone dubbed with "a learning disability", telling the reader that because of this, "I had suddenly become the village idiot in my house". Even someone who wasn't sent to the "special" classes can relate to people making you doubt your intellectual ability and the debilitating effect that it can have on a person.
It is this confessional aspect and admission to his slightly bumbling difficulty with communication in general that makes the piece relatable. It may not come across as authoritative but there are so many other travel pieces that are almost overwhelmingly authoritative that it was kind of a breath of fresh air to feel like the article I was reading was truly written by someone who dealt with the same language barrier problems as me.
I think the fact that this piece was still informative about the people, language and culture is an important thing to note, articles don't always need to talk down to their readers or try to impress them with fancy language to make them feel legitimate. In many ways I found this piece certainly much more enjoyable than many others I've read but I thought there was something endearing and honest about his blunt and open writing style. And clearly he's become a very successful writer, so much for being the village idiot.

Sent from my iPhone

Cut It Out

"Cutouts" is a piece by Constance Hale, which seems a bit out of place in a book entitled, The Best Travel Writing of 2006. It's certainly a very different type of travel piece, not really feeling like a travel piece at all but rather a personal narrative of an experience that occurred while traveling, the focus isn't actually the travel itself. The piece doesn't really describe Italian culture and because of its lack of educational information it seemed like it was slightly lacking purpose. That being said it's not bad writing, it just seems misplaced in a travel anthology. The writing itself is actually very clear-voiced and makes good use of symbolic details. Like when describing the building of Aldo's house; "Aldo had built the stone house by hand, and during a hiatus in the building project, a spider had spun a web in the valley between two stones. Aldo couldn't bear to destroy the web, so he placed a glass behind the spider and kept building". These are the kind of symbolic details that I thought made the piece interesting and showed that with a bit of editing it could have been made into a very insightful, useful travel piece. However, it would have been more fulfilling if it had provided a better sense of time and place.

The description of her "not-lover" Aldo is interesting and peaks my interests about him but I think it would have been better if she described more of their mentor/mentee relationship, teaching the reader about the artistic culture and perhaps something of the culture in general through her learning from him. When she describes Aldo's take on art and its imperfections I think that could have been further developed into something very telling about Italian culture and their version of beauty; "For imperfection, Aldo insisted, was the soul of art. To him, a perfect painting was merely decorative. A bit of watercolor out of control - or the self-doubt I couldn't escape - suggested Truth, Life, the Human Condition". I think in addition to providing more information it also would have provided a new perspective for the reader and allowed us to see things through her eyes in a useful way. I think this kind of information would have been more applicable instead of some of the unessecary personal and background details that were included.

The Court of Culatello

Anya Von Bremzen looks at the "rare, expensive and obscenely good" hams of Massimo Spigaroli, in her article, "The Culatello King". In the first two paragraphs her language sets the wonderous and admiring tone of the rest of the piece, quoting Spigaroli who says, "'It isn't just meat, it's myth.'". She then goes on to provide a bit of background information about the royal meat and supports the information with an interesting fact, enticing the reader while educating them. The piece continues this pattern of enticement and education by including several quotes and a personable writing style that makes the piece light-hearted and as flavorful as the meat it describes. Walking down to the culatello cellar, which we have just been informed by a smirking Spigaroli means "little ass", we are given a sense of her experience, "The dusky perfume is so intoxicating, I want to swoon and never revive".

We are then provided with another interesting, educational moment when we are told about some royal hams indeed, royal in the sense that there are hams set aside for the Prince of Wales. The piece is brief and an easy read and the ending is short and to the point, for all the sensory descriptions she does not waste time with overly flowery language. I think this is a subtle but important detail to notice because, I think it was done very purposefully I get the sense that she really wants the food to speak for itself; she is merely providing just enough description and detail to give us a hint of what this royal meat is really all about.

Fecund Fascination

"The Filthy, Fecund Secret of Emilia-Romagna", is an article by Patrick Symmes, that discusses the culinary aspect of the Po Valley town of Emilia-Romagna from an atypical point of view. What is the filthy, fecund secret Symmes is referring to? It's the soil of the Po Valley, "It's Italy's unsung region, yet its food has conquered the world - or at least the table. Think prosciutto di Parma, Parmesan, porcini, and half of all pastas known to man (just for starters). The source of its power? Po Valley dirt - fine, dense, almost chocolately, accumulated over millennia". He then goes on to explain the importance of the dirt in the context of this piece, basically explaining to the reader in the simplest of terms, why this article and its subject, dirt, are important; "This stuff - mere dirt- is the building block or the wealth, strife and food of the Po Valley, the great plain at the heart of Italian agriculture".

He uses inviting language, the result is that the piece becomes very interactive with the reader, using a casual approach that makes the reader feel comfortable with the material not overwhelmed or embarrassed for not knowing. He makes several great comparisons that again play to that interactivity with the reader, making the material relatable and accessible. He also informs the reader of things that are not common, providing a perspective on things that are a bit out of the ordinary, teaching the reader something new. In addition to comparisons and insightful observations he also uses some historical background for support and further education for the current perspective.

He does all of this though while still using accessible language and includes personable and personal details, mixing the use of history with wonderfully descriptive, but not snobby, language. The conclusion is a good example of the type of writing that characterizes the rest of the piece as it is sweetly poignant, it sums up the sweet, laid-back attitude of Emilia-Romagna that he has highlighted throughout the piece both in his descriptions and his writing style that mimics the nature of the town.

The Big Apple of Italy

Alastair McEwen's piece, "Milan, the Italian Big Apple", is a relatable and informative read. McEwen combines insightful observations with current statistics and historical background to help give the reader a better perspective and also perhaps a new one. The introduction is an example of the use of a historic tid-bit that is interesting as well as informative; "Fewer still know that the eponymous Enrico Forlanini made a steam-powered model helicopter that flew almost twenty years before the Wright Brothers took to the air over the beach at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina...". Of course, I knew about the Wright Brothers but as McEwen predicted I had no idea about the Forlanini helicopter. In the next paragraph we get a great description of Milan in a nutshell which also serves as part of the reason for why this piece is important; "Industrial, entrepreneurial and international, Milan has it all: from history to art, fashion to design, publishing to finance, universities to research centers, yesterday to tomorrow, and hustle to bustle...". He follows this with a bit more history and uses it to help place the current situation in a modern context.

Although he includes some of the negative opinions about Milan he keeps this balanced, providing another viewpoint or side to Milan, giving the reader a side that is also less familiar and less obvious. When talking about how difficult it is to find a "true-blue Milanese", he makes a very insightful observation and a useful comparison saying they are harder to find than, " a 3-dollar-bill". Another example of this type of insightful observation occurs throughout but one that stuck out to me was when he discusses how they handle the flow of new blood into the city, because after all he is comparing Milan to New York and New York is forever a city of changing demographic. "Despite this influx of new blood, the essential character of the city has remain unchanged. Like all great cities, Milan has the power to absorb newcomers and mold them to its own standards".

He continues the piece in a similar fashion, informing the reader of things that are slightly less obvious, like the discussion of the unusual small town of Brera, making useful comparisons throughout that allow the reader to relate all the while to what he is saying. He does not come across as biased, but rather makes a point to remain honest in his reporting and depiction of the city, admitting that it is not necessarily beautiful but that it is not ugly either, "A better word would be discreet", he says tellingly.

He concludes the piece that makes another great use of analogy and provides poignant insight, the piece does not feel like there are any stray ends left untucked, he comes full circle and recaps in a wonderful way. If you read nothing but the conclusion of the piece you would still have a sense of what Milan is all about and I think that's pretty remarkable, "So there we have it, a few very brief stills taken from an epic movie with a cast of millions - painters, poets and sculptors, soldiers of fortune and men of letters, fashionistas and industrialists, soccer stars, TV personalities and outstanding chefs. All this is Milan, Italy's fastest moving and perhaps most "American" city and - in many ways - its best kept secret".

For The Love of Language

"Raw Meat, Barry White, and the Brothers", a piece by Matthew Gavin Frank, was a fairly interesting read and filled to the brim with detailed descriptions but sometimes they were almost a little too much to stomach, near the end I felt almost painfully full of detail. Not all the detail is overkill though, the introduction for example was a perfect use of description as a means of intrigue; "I see her spider tattoo before I see her face. It's on the back of her right hand, a fat-bodied camouflage-green spider crawling along a web that covers knuckle, wrist, all five fingers. For a second, I think she's going to throw it at me". After reading that it's almost impossible not to wonder to yourself, who is this woman? He goes on to describe the color and texture of her skin, making a fairly common comparison to leather and olives but then a slightly less obvious one when he says, "There are those rare times when you can tell the texture of something just by looking at it. It works with a few species of cacti and it works with this woman's face".

He goes on to describe how he comes to sit at the restaurant and have a meal, he then goes into lengthy description about every detail of the meal and the crooning of the background music of Barry White. Then he meets the chef and goes into detail about him and his barrel chest and small-town boy but wise misdemeanor. He does describe his language in a slightly playful but rather accurate manner when he mentions the name of Bill Clinton, "His I's are extended as double, no, triple-E's, his O is longer than his fingers, and the name comes out as Beeell Cleeentone". Some of his other descriptions like his one about the taste of grappa, "...like silk soaked in kerosene. If the earth were a grape, this would be the taste of its core". Between the two descriptions I think even someone who hasn't experienced the intensity of grappa can picture it pretty accurately.

He concludes the piece in an equally descriptive manner but it does have some sense of finality to it, the piece was definitely more of a personal experience piece I felt like rather than a travel piece but I did think it was a good example of well-written descriptions and strong word usage, even if sometimes it was a tad overdone.

Appetite For Slow Food

Corby Kummer's article, "Slow Food, High Gear", discusses the Slow Food movement in the context of the Slow Food's University bike trip. The piece is personable and casual right from the beginning; "'Vuoi pedalare?' Do you want to pedal? That was the insinuating, irresistable question put to travelers on the month-long Viaggio sul Po, a bike trip 150 students at Slow Food's University of Gastronomic Sciences took across northern Italy last fall following the valley of the once-mighty Po". Kummer gives detailed descriptions about Carlo Petrini, Slow Food's founder, the school and their experiences through out the piece. He includes snippets of quotes from Petrini that make him easy to imagine and connect to as a reader, telling us how he referred to the endless parade of cooking shows on TV as, "'idiots with spoons'", explaining his anger by explaining his genius, "Gastronomy is interdisciplinary, he insists, involving economics, environmental science, history, biology, and anthropology - and social justice, the ideal that got him started in politics in the 1970s...".

Kummer tells us how the school is comprised of students from 28 countries and explains Petrini's hands-on learning method, and the extensive travel that Petrini makes a part of the curriculum. Kummer shares with the reader how successful and useful the bike trip was from a journalist's point of view, in search for information by saying, "In a few days of pedalling in 20-40-kilometer spurts, I learned more than I usually would in a week of driving around doing research on my own".

There was one quote in particular that I liked of Petrini's that Kummer included, I found it very poignant and very telling of his character and the whimsical dreams he has for the school and movement. On achieving holding the Slow Food conference in Puebla he said, "On such 'beautiful lies,' are dreams built". Then Kummer reiterates this touching sentiment at the closing of the piece by referencing the idea of a "beautiful lie" once more, bringing the piece to a neat close, and leaving me thinking about the truth that is behind so many of life's beautiful lies....

Have You Met The Two Turins?

Alexander Stille's tale of "The Two Turins" is full of contradictions, but Stille is careful to explain these contradictions. Written with carefully crafted imagery language and strong descriptions and comparisons there are many parts of the reading that are relatable as well as informative. The introduction paragraph is a perfect example of this type of contradictory but informative and descriptive language. Stille refers to Turin as a city that is, "...a well kept secret left out in plain view. This may well be because, at first glance, Turin seems so little "Italian": its wide elegant boulevards, long and straight, in rational, grid formation, lined with imposing 19th century apartment buildings with Mansard roofs and French doors, remind people more of Paris than the labyrinthine tangle of narrow medieval alleyways characteristic of the center of so many Italian cities. Its best museum hosts a collection of Egyptian mummies and artifacts rather than works of Italian art". With this passage he has set up a contradiction, and then explained it and in doing so he has captured my interest. I am intrigued by the differences that he has described in juxtaposition to the rest of Italy and in comparison to Paris. He later goes on to explain the contradiction even further by telling the reader, "But Turin's differentness is, in fact, one of the things that makes it extremely Italian".

Now it is shortly after this however that he starts to lose me a little bit, while he continues to be informative and descriptive I feel like I've gone off the grid a bit, his piece doesn't seem to flow or connect anymore and instead feels like I'm jumping from topic to topic. Part of this might be due to the rather immense amount of history that he mixes into the entire piece throughout each section, but it is informative and some of it is important information that adds to my current understanding of the place and people. An example of this occurs when he's discussing the industrial side of Turin; "The city grew rapidly in the 19th century when it became the political center of Italy as well as one of the country's few industrial centers, growing from 200,000 to half a million people in the second half of the 19th century". This is something I did not know, and a pretty significant statistic to take note of, so this type of information was useful.

Some of the information is a bit unnecessary but interesting none the less, if for no other reason than it was something out of the ordinary, like when he talks about the alchemical experiments that occurred in the basement of the Palazzo Madama, and the fact that some people believe the holy grail and true cross are buried somewhere in the land. Or how about that, "To this day, followers of the occult consider Turin a 'magic city,' strategically placed on the corner of a 'white magic' triangle together with Prague and Lyon as well as on a 'black magic' triangle with San Francisco and London".

The piece continues, adding more information and historical background, leaving me feeling a bit overwhelmed then the piece kind of just ends. He doesn't totally just cut off the conclusion but he goes from talking about the Olympics to making a brief connection to the introduction and while the title implies there is more than one side to Turin I kind of got the impression that there was even more than two, I think the piece could have used a bit of cutting, removing some of the excess information and historical background staying more focused on the present situation or information that more directly pertains to the current status of Turin.

The Quintessential Norm

Raphael Kadushin's piece, "Quintessentially Italy", is a generally well-written article on Umbria, but for the most part it's your basic travel piece. The lead does what it's supposed to, it grabs my attention enough that I am willing to read on but it's nothing shocking. There is some well-versed descriptive language like when he describes the trip to Todi from the Duomo, saying; "Then drive straight into the pastoral scenery on the road to Todi, past the sloping hills, olive groves, and bell towers that all look familiar because you've seen them before in the background of numerous Renaissance paintings". While the imagery is decent, the description is like the bell towers, familiar, while the inclusion of the mention of Renaissance paintings adds a hint of interest it's nothing new.

A little while later he does inform the reader of the Festival of Two Worlds; "For two weeks from late June to early July, the town swarms with world-class musicians, actors, singers, dancers, and mimes, along with crowds clamoring for tickets, especially when the venue is held in the former Roman colony's first-century amphitheater". This is at least something new, and something of importance, something I'm glad he made mention of.

He then discusses local cuisine, and ends talking about the Umbrian hills. Perhaps, it's the fact that by the time I read this piece I'd already read several other pieces on Umbria that make this one seem ordinary or maybe it's because truthfully the other pieces were better, more interesting, more insightful. Either way I finish reading this piece without really taking much away from it, and without gaining any new insight and little new knowledge.

An Awkward Love Affair

The piece "Perfume: The Story of a Love Affair" by Andre Aciman, isn't exactly a story of romance. It actually seems to be quite the contrary for the majority of the article, and the depressing introductory paragraph certainly doesn't speak of love; "Turin on a rainy day, everything is gray. As I step out of the grand old-world train station, the city looks exactly as I'd imagined it: A cross between, say, Detroit, Dayton and Duluth". As if that drab comparison wasn't bad enough he goes further blatantly informing the reader that, "You don't go there unless you have to, and until now I've never had to. But I'm a guest of the Turin Book Fair, so I'm here, counting the days, the hours". Right off the bat it's pretty obvious he doesn't want to be there, he actually can't wait to get out of there and has no qualms about sharing this with the reader which leaves me wondering, why even bother continuing? But out of obligation I do. He then goes to a perfume shop where his melancholy tone is still apparent; "Inside, a salesgirl comes over and greets me and, before I have time to make a U-turn, asks if I want to smell anything". At this point I'm on the second page and he still doesn't want to be where he is, at this point I'm wondering why is he even writing this then?

After spending some amount of time in the shop and having several different scents wafted at him, his mood still hasn't changed; "I have no intention of buying anything. Plus I'm overwhelmed by these loutish, quasi-bordello scents. I ask her to stop spraying. She notices I'm eager to leave and asks if I want her to spray a dash of bergamot on me - for the road, she seems to say. I figure she'll spray some on my palm, or wrist, discreetly. Instead, she sprays the whole right sleeve of my sweater. I fear the worst. The scent will infest my room, my clothes, my suitcase. Before I know it, the salesgirl sprays the other sleeve with Charme & Feuilles. This is the worst thing in the world. I smell debauched". At this point using words like "loutish" "quasi-bordello" and "debauched", he sounds more miserable than ever, there is no romance here, certainly no love affair. According to him he basically feels awkward, corrupted and debased and smelling slightly of a brothel, at this point his melancholy is starting to seep off the page into my own feelings, why am I still asking myself why I'm reading this piece?

Finally in the last chunk of the article we start to see a change, he smells something, but he admits that he's still "trying not to like it". Suddenly within the span of a few short paragraphs he goes from counting down hours, and attempting to U-turns, to referring to connecting with something new as a "miracle"; "It occurs when we surrender. I can't fight this, this is stronger than me, this is better than what I know. I tried to hate, and I failed".

I'm all for positive transformations but this just seems too much too suddenly. The term "love affair", infers some length of time, some progression and growing affection but a passionate one, this article doesn't mention anything remotely romantic until the last paragraph. It makes the sudden emotional reversal feel just as awkward as the rest of the piece, it doesn't feel genuine, instead it feels forced and awkward, and still after reading the conclusion I am left wondering, why did I read this piece?

The Money of Milan

"The Queen of the Bogs", is a piece by William Murray from The Last Italian, if you're expecting the title, or even the introduction paragraph to give you a clear idea of what this piece is about, don't hold your breath. I don't really understand the title, not as a representation of Milan or as a representation of the rest of the piece. However, once you get to the second paragraph of the piece the intention becomes a bit more clear and the piece takes on a meaning. He references a memory from when he previously lived in the city years ago revealing a main focus of the piece and the place, saying, "the strongest memory I've retained from that period is of a constant, hurried coming and going by people impervious to climate and fiercely intent on the day's affairs". The city that many people, local and visiting, refer to as the most "citylike" has gained this reputation primarily for its business reputation, Murray highlights this by telling the reader that, "It's inhabitants pride themselves on their energy and business acumen, on their ability to 'get things done' while making money'".

Not surprisingly for a city based on business, they also have a strong sense of competition and a bit of opposition to another recognition worthy location, the nation's capital, Rome. In Milan's opinion, "Rome...with its Byzantine bureaucracy and squabbling political factions, has always been considered the quintessential example of everything wrong with the society. The feeling here has always been that only Milan, with its energy and entrepreneurial spirit, could triumph over the inertia to the south and continue to keep Italy, at least the northern half of the peninsula, in the vanguard of the world's industrialized economies. 'South of Rome is Africa'". While this section contextualizes the opposition that the Milanese feel towards Rome it also comments on the disparity that occurs within Italy, most notably between the northern and souther hemispheres, where the financial differences are vast to say the least.

If you're like me though you don't think of business, in terms of finance at least, when you first think of Milan, and Murray recognizes this by acknowledging the plethora of things Milan has to offer. "Milan is not merely a commercial center, but, like every other Italian city, has its share of great sights. The Milanese spend a lot of time in and around them. They had a rooted idea that somehow the day has been mismanaged that hasn't put them within walking distance of the historic center..."

While Murray pays ample attention to the positive aspects of Milan he does not neglect the negative side of their city, he admits to the reader that there is a downside to having such a narrow minded, and strict focus on business and income; "In its headlong rush to prosperity, Milan has paid little attention to ecological or environmental considerations....some buildings...are beginning to turn black in the polluted air and some seem to be visibly crumbling before one's eyes". While this certainly doesn't paint a pretty picture, it does portray an accurate one but then Murray transitions by reminding or perhaps informing the reader, "that Milan has never been considered a beautiful city"; quoting a Roman relative who said, "'You don't go to Milan for beauty. You go there to work and that's all". This just goes to show that beauty has not been a priority for Milan, an interesting contradiction to the rest of Italy which seems to be, at sometimes even to a fault, obsessed with beauty, "looking good".

This disjunct contradiction is apparent in other areas of Milanese culture as well, and Murray points these out saying, "Milan seems likely to remain what some local wag once called it, 'an international capital in search of a country.'". This idea of a capital in search of country highlights the disparity between urban affluence and the rest of the majority population, particularly to the South, it's just an entirely different world. Murray continues to emphasize this point by adding, "And the city's ferocious concentration on materialism also has its compensations. The Milanese, only about 1.5 million strong, account for less than 7 percent of Italy's population, but 28 percent of the country's national income". This is a pretty astonishing statistic, if the facts don't lie this is hard evidence that whatever Milan is doing, it's working.

He later shifts from commerce to consumption, in the form of fashion and teenage gangs, referred to as paninari. These youngsters as one Milanese person remarks are not doing anything unusual or groundbreaking they are merely mirroring the societal standards set before them. These are standards which find it normal for teenagers to wear outfits that cost, at the minimum, $800, and where, "money-saving imitations of the genuine article will not pass; immediate ostracism is the fate of any would-be paninaro who tries to sneak a counterfeit article past the watchful eyes of his contemporaries". While this might seem extravagant or harsh, it's very telling of the nature of Milan, they wouldn't be where they are today if they let a business of cheap counterfeits pass for the real thing; they are hard working and demand excellence, which in turn reaps excellent results.

Looking Good the Italian Way

La Bella Figura: A Field Guide to the Italian Mind, is a book by author Beppe Severgnini, in the section read for class he takes us through Milan on a 10 day tour, the piece that we read covered day one, beginning in the airport and ending at a hotel he takes the reader through the natural format of traveling. In addition to the clever format he uses witty subtitles for each section to introduce the arrival of a new topic and a bit of insight behind it.

"The airport, where we discover that Italians prefer exceptions to rules", this is the subtitle for the first section on the Malpensa airport. He follows this with a telling introduction about being Italian, "Being Italian is a full-time job. We never forget who we are, and we have fun confusing anyone who is looking on. Italy is sexy. It offers instant attention and solace. But don't take Italy at face value. Or, rather, take it at face value if you want to, but don't complain later". It's this kind of subtly informative writing that is concealed with a layer of playful humor that permeates the entire piece, making it a very enjoyable read.

He then goes on to make an important differentiation, telling the reader, "Your Italy and our Italia are not the same thing. Italy is a soft drug peddled in predictable packages, such as hills in the sunset, olive groves, lemon trees, white wine, and raven-haired girls. Italia, on the other hand, is a maze. It's alluring, but complicated. In Italia, you can go round and round in circles for years. Which of course is great fun". It's a differentiation that I would not have thought to recognize prior to read this, but after having done so it makes perfect sense, there really is quite a big difference.

In addition to using playful and humorous language he also employs rich word choice that is constantly tugging at the reader's attention, for example, (try and ignore this passage); "Italy is far from hellish. It's got too much style. Neither is it heaven, of course, because it's too unruly. Let's just say that Italy is an offbeat purgatory, full of proud, tormented souls each of whom is convinced he or she has a hotline to the boss". It's witty, and humorous but it's also very telling about the place and people of Italia.

He continues to make these kind of cleverly concealed insights throughout the piece, another way he does this is through useful comparisons. When discussing the difference between their Malpensa Airport and other countries airports he references the popular movie, The Terminal; "If the film had been set in Malpensa Airport, Tom Hanks wouldn't just have fallen in love with Catherine Zeta-Jones. He'd have founded a political party, promoted a referendum, opened a restaurant, and organized a farmers' market". It's a comparison that you can't help but notice, and understand, even if you've never seen the movie before.

A little further into the piece he finally addresses this notion of "la bella figura", essentially "looking good", he talks about Italians obsessive admiration for all things beautiful is both a strength and a weakness. He playfully talks about how the girls at the cellphone counter, "can't tell a cell phone from a remote control, but all are indisputably attractive", and he says this is because, "People prefers good looks to good answers". He talks about the difference between fight attendants on British airlines versus Air Italia, comparing the Italians to models strutting on a cat walk thousands of miles up in the air, having recently flown on two very different airlines I can tell you there is some definite truth to this statement.

He takes us then through driving and traffic and on to hotels all the while continuing the use of his playful, humorous tone that masks the cleverly concealed insightful information he shares with the reader at the same time. I found the piece to be just as informative as it was entertaining.

An Umbrian Love Story

Pat Conroy's article, "The Romance of Umbria", had me fawning for the sweetness of Umbria and the romance that it inspires. It's not long before I'm asking myself, why can I make a trip to Umbria? The lead is instantly catching thanks to the personal, sweetly intimate writing style that perforates the rest of the piece; "'Tell about Italy,' my wife says, her voice sugared with her deep Alabama accent. 'Tell me what you loved the most.' I tell her two stories...". It's something about the way he talks about her accent that just has me picturing how he must look at her sweetly as she says this to him. Soon after in the piece he demonstrates a meaningful use of quotes that add another layer of personality and an additional intimacy, this time with the location, while making a comparison applicable to the reader. Talking about a house he once rented he quotes a brief exchange he had with his landlord upon asking if the house is old; "'No, no, no, no,' he said quickly. 'You Americans love the old things, but this house is not even 500 years.' Stunned I said, 'It was built before Columbus set sail.' 'Yes,' my landlord said. 'But you don't understand. In Rome, she is a baby.'". I thought this quote was wonderfully descriptive of the type of conversations that occur, what we consider astonishingly old, the Italians consider infantile, our history is but a baby compared to theirs.

After this he begins a repeated theme, "That is how Italy taught me about time". It is another demonstration of the honest, heart-felt writing that Conroy employs and it's a nice change of pace from the ordinary to hear about someone learning something from the actual place and people of Italy, not just its attractions and monuments of the past. He tells us about his mother's battle with cancer, an extremely personal and emotional detail that he did not have to share but chose to, with the reader, he lets us further into his life by doing this and makes him that much more endearing as a person and that much more admirable as a writer. He provides a wonderfully placed anecdote shortly after to emphasize the theme of learning, and this time how Italy taught him about being alive. He tells us, "I am finally living the life I think I was meant to live. I had no idea that a man in his fifties could fall in love with a woman in her fifties and that they could teach each other things about love and ecstasy and wonder...".

A little while later, when him and his wife are discussing where to go on their honeymoon he gives us another example of his expertly crafted descriptive language that is coated in an earnest, sweetness that you can't help but connect with; "Not to have traveled widely seemed unlucky to me, but not to have seen Italy was heartbreaking and unimaginable. My own heart has been shaped like a boot since I lived in the city of Rome for three years in the faraway eighties. If you cannot find happiness in Italy, I told Sandra, then I do not think you can find it in Eden". Here he again makes a useful comparison, everyone knows about the Garden of Eden and what it stands for, and the fact that he compares Italy to it is hugely telling. The fact that he describes his heart as being "boot shaped" is fabulously rich with imagery.

When he describes Umbria and why you travel there, he also provides a rich example of his well-crafted descriptive language; "Umbria. The shuttered beauty of the very name strikes me as luscious as a pear, as dark as the boars that roam her mountains, gorging themselves on wild chestnuts. This is a place where the centuries give up their stories at their own pace. You go to Tuscany because you must; you go to Umbria because you can. It is the province in Italy you travel to when you want the country itself to enter the pores of your skin. Umbria is Italy turned inward, its prayer to itself". This passage doesn't even need anything said about it, just reading it you know it's a perfect section of text.

The piece continues in this fashion, mixing personal anecdotes and stories of their time in Umbria sugared with the sweet, intimate writing style that he introduced in the lead and carries all the way through to the conclusion which upon reading I find that my hand has made its way to my heart, feeling a bit of the love he describes in myself.

The Cool King

In David Story's piece about cashmere, "The Cool King of Cashmere", I instantly hooked by the lead, how could you not be with his inviting language and descriptive word choice? "There are many interesting facts about Brunello Cucinelli, the 57-year-old founder, owner and divine inspiration of the high-end fashion house bearing his name: how he would much rather quote Marcus Aurelius, Kant or Henri David Thoreau than talk about spreadsheets, thread counts or global branding; how this past year he won the coveted 2010 Leonardo Prize for his contributions to Italian industry and culture; how the man who has been called 'the King of Gray' for his devotion to a softer, more muted palette started out selling extremely bright-colored cashmere sweaters from his garage in Perugia 33 years ago". Just from this description and few tid-bits of information I want to read on because I want to know more about this "King".

He then goes on to provide two more interesting details, that he is the son of a farmer and originally went to school to become an engineer. In addition to being interesting background notes he also makes them applicable as he shows how they pertain to the current industry, and focus of the piece. His description of the style of Cucinelli, "...its casual, off-the-cuff chic, as perfectly suited to the country as it is to the city, is the result of a rigorous, hands-on craftsmanship; well-thought out detailing; timeless yet so modern; why both garment and inhabitant seem effortless". Already from this description, that small unrealistic voice in the back of my mind is whispering, "Oh my God who doesn't want to be comfortable, and chic while looking effortless? You need a Cucinelli".

Throughout the piece Story provides several personable details about Cucinelli making him out to be an endearing King of the people, but he is not unrealistic about the fact that it takes more than a good heart to do what he does, it also takes money and lots of it, but,"thanks to his determination and humanistic zeal to create a better, more authentic workplace (and the money to do it), he has literally rebuilt the village: repairing ancient avenues and walkways, establishing a theater for the performing arts and building factories and workshops for 80 percent of Cucinelli's production". He goes on to say how they ate at a pizzeria, where 50 of the towns people came, including mothers and fathers with children, as well as grandparents. He describes the pastries they ate as being made by his wife and a friend battling breast cancer who is in fact that night celebrating her last round of chemo, these are very humbling details because these are things that ordinary people, not royalty, do all the time.

"This is a man who knows how to enjoy life, and he wants to make sure the rest of the world does as well", he may be enjoying the lap of luxury but he is not pretentious or greedy about it, he wants to literally share the wealth. Story tells us that, "Brunello has grown his company slowly and carefully: It's still very much a local operation, centered around his two factories in Solomeo, where he employs about 500 workers", again we get the sense that he is a family man, a community man, he cares about the well-being of others he is not looking to be a ravenous tycoon even if his $200 million-a-year profits allow him the option. He even considers his closest business partners to be his wife and eldest daughter, expecting that the younger one will soon become a part of the team; it's a large, luxury business but he runs it as a small family-owned and operated one.

In describing one of Cucinelli's "sweatshirts" Story has me wanting to wrap myself up in one, picturing how I would nuzzle my face into the soft fabric as I continued to read the warm piece. His description of a blazer has the once quiet voice in the back of my head now screaming that I must somehow get my hands on one of these, "Take, for example, the blazer, which buttons high, is cut shortish, and is very fitted and body-conscious, tucking itself in and around one's frame with an impossibly light cashmere flannel - perfect for those of us who loathe a bulky fall/winter jacket".

Story concludes with a simple line that emphasizes the laid-back, unpretentious success that Cucinelli possesses, "In the kingdom of black tie, it seems, The Cool King of Gray Cashmere did just fine".

Women for Men

"Intoxicated by the mists of Venetian canals, her American guardedness lying at her feet like discarded robes, our heroine was ready for Italian Love". When I am quickly pulled in by the descriptive, sensory language of Kate Simon's lead in her piece, "For Women", I have no idea the dark direction that the rest of the piece is headed in. I do wonder why she has capitalized "Love" though and after reading the rest of the piece I wonder how she goes from that beginning to where she ends up.

The language is descriptive but certainly not flowery, it is rather honest and direct at sometimes being down right blunt. The sense that I got for most of the time was reading this piece was actually rather eery, it came across as being very dark and almost creepy to read. Later in the piece she talks about the sensation of always feeling watched; "Ten feet away, around the corner, or observing your reflection in a shopwindow, someone is watching you...", now I get that there may be some truth to this, people are always watching another but does she have to say it in such a stalkerish way? When she talks about the prostitutes walking the streets she says, "Your refusal doesn't send them home to wife, mother and kiddies (who have all decided to agree that he is playing cards). If you won't, the next one will". Two things that are disturbing there, I don't like reading this as if I am the street walker pedaling my fleshy wears, and also the way she makes it seem like this man's poor female counter points are so used to this type of behavior they now just convince themselves otherwise and look the other way, even the kiddies? When she talks about a man suggesting a hotel after meeting at a train station, the woman is again put in a prey-like position that is written about with an eery certainty of her hunted role; "Be prepared, if you accept his company and advice, to share the bed with him and if he is hard up, as he is likely to be, some of your lire". Now, here she mentions lire so I'm assuming this piece is at least 10 years dated, but I wonder does it still hold up? Does it hold up partially?

While the majority of the piece is basically creep some good descriptive language can't be overlooked. When she's describing the "superman" in Lucca for example, riding the streets on his bike persistently circling, "At the point where he must dismount or fall off, he speeds up, dashes around the block, returns, slows, slower, slower, inviting, burbling, cooing like a turtle dove. He cannot possibly expect to carry a woman off on his two-wheeled, onespeed chariot; he looks too poor to afford the opening act of a proffered aperitif and no romance was ever launched on a bottle of mineral water. Undaunted, invincible, he keeps on trying, warbling and wobbling". So here the descriptive language provides detailed imagery but again if I was walking and this guy on a bike just kept circling back around, following me as I made it further and further down a street I would feel extremely uncomfortable and certainly hunted. And why can't a romance be built on mineral water? Women need to be plied with alcohol for a man to have a chance?

In addition to the weirdness of the rest of the piece I just felt like the ending was odd, I didn't really understand it and didn't feel like it felt with the rest of piece. I'm left wondering why did I read this? What was the point of this piece? And why on earth is it titled "For Women"?

The Vanishing City

Cathy Newman's piece for the National Geographic, "Vanishing Venice", provides an honest and unbiased look at the current predicament of Venice, the city that is sinking in more ways than one according to Newman. From the descriptive, comparative language of the lead alone I am already drawn into the piece; "Nowhere in Italy, where calamity comes embellished with rococo gestures and embroidered in exclamation points is there a crisis more beautifully framed than Venice... the city lifts like a mirage from a lagoon at the head of the Adriatic. For centuries it has threatened to vanish beneath the waves of the acqua alta...". The language provides imagery and contrasting descriptions, like the beautiful way in which the crisis that is Venice is framed, that allows me to start to visualize the text. This kind of useful descriptive language is carried throughout the piece. Later in the piece when talking about romance she writes, "What is Venice - so seductive, so lethally attractive - except the most sublime setting for the trilling of the heart"? The language is bold, words like "seductive" and "lethally" imply a strength in the lure of the city. After sharing a sweetly heart warming story about two young lovers, determined to be together she aptly states, "Romance triumphs; reality intrudes", it's such a simple statement but so poignant that it resonates on many different levels, she is not just referencing the sweet, young lovers story but the romance of the city itself it seems.

In addition to descriptive language and imagery she also makes several useful comparisons throughout the piece so that material, which may be foreign to some readers, is understandable in the context that she has included it. When talking about the flooding and the Mayor (whom I have never heard of) she describes him in an extremely effective manner saying, "Just ask Mayor Massimo Cacciari, broody, mercurial professor of philosophy, fluent in German, Latin, Ancient Greek;...a man who raises the level of political intellect to just short of the stratosphere", for never having heard of the man, let alone met him, from her description I feel like I can paint a pretty accurate picture. His curt response to the problem of Venice sinking, "'So go get boots'", emphasizes the character she has already described.

From here she easily transitions into discussing another type of flooding problem that Venice is currently being faced with, tourism, and she does this again through aptly described comparisons and analogies. "Boots are fine for water, but useless against the flood that causes more hand-wringing than any lagoon spillover: the flood of tourism. Number of Venetian residents in 2007: 60,000. Number of visitors in 2007: 21 million". Her comparison between the amount of tourists to that of flood waters provides the reader with an image to relate the numbers to that she then provides in the factual support that follows. She continues this analogous language when she compares the 80,000 tourists of 2008 to a swarm of locusts; "Those who managed to get to Venice surged through the streets like schools of bluefish, snapping of pizza and gelato, leaving paper and plastic bottles in their wake". Her descriptions and comparisons leave no room for misunderstanding the severity of the tourist problem.

She continues this use of analogy to describe the city when she compares it to a play; "Please take your seats. In this play, Venice assumes a dual role. Lighting, sets, and costumes are so beautiful the heart aches, but the plot is full of confusion, the ending uncertain. One thing is certain: Everyone is madly in love with the title character". This is an analogy that is so telling on multiple levels, the plot like the city of Venice and it's various flooding issues is confusing, there are constantly unexpected twists and turns; the ending is clearly yet to be decided, and there is little to foreshadow a certain future. However, it is clear that everyone is indeed in a deep seated romance with the main character performed by the city of Venice.

In addition to the rich imagery and descriptive language Newman also provides an adequate local Venetian perspective through anecdotes and local quotes; "Venice is a different place altogether. The abnormal is normal. A flood is routine. The siren sounds, protective steel doors come down. Boots, essential to any Venetian wardrobe, are pulled on. The two and half miles of passerelle - an elevated boardwalk supported on metal legs - are set up. Life goes on". These are details that are not common in stories about Venice, this is the first mention I have come across of steel doors and passerelle, but she makes a point in including them that what seems unusual to me, is the usual for Venetians, these are minor interruptions. The great sensory language that she carries throughout the piece even goes beyond the visual, it demonstrates an awareness and a respectful appreciation that makes me feel like she is a trustworthy and conscientious writer. "Listen. Venice should be heard as well as seen. At night the eye is not distracted by the radiance of gilded domes. The ear can discern the slam of wood shutters, heels tapping up and down the stone steps of bridges, the abbreviated drama of whispered conversations, waves kicked against the seawall by boats, the staccato of rain on canvas awnings, and always, always the heavy, sad sound of bells. Most of all, the sound of Venice if the absence of the sound of cars". Even the first part of this paragraph is almost like Newman is demanding that the reader take this part seriously, she does not ask us to listen, she tells us to, informs us that the sounds of the city demand just as much attention as its sights.

The quotes she provides from local Venetians provide a true, if sad, but potential future for the people and city of Venice, these quotes almost demand our attention and respect again, they seem to imply the severity of the issue on a personal level. When Gherardo Ortalli talks about going out with his friends his quote, "I have to stop because someone is taking a photograph of us as if we are aboriginals. Perhaps one day we are. You go and see a sign on a cage. 'Feed the Venetians.' When I arrived 30 years ago, the population was 120,000. Now it is less than 60,000". The combination of his poignant observation and insight combined with the starting statistic emphasize how affected the locals are by this issue. She further emphasizes it with use of "battle language" when discussing Augusto Salvadori, who she refers to as the city's "defender", and he himself says, "My battle is for the city". Following this she provides a useful little nut diagram of tourism history in Venice which helps to put the current situation into perspective and provides some additional helpful insight for those who are not familiar with the situation or the history of Venice.

The piece does not come across as being biased though, she later mentions how some people think that the wounds of Venice are self-inflicted, providing both sides to the battle. She ends with a wonderfully written analogy, bringing the story full circle by returning to the notion of vanishing, beauty and romance, and even manages to briefly hint at the earlier referenced play analogy; "Kisses end. Dreams vanish, and sometimes cities too. We long for the perfect ending, but the curtain falls along with our hearts. Beauty is so difficult".

From here another section follows titled "Flood Zone", so I am left a bit perplexed, is this a new section? A new piece entirely? Where is the ending then? If it is an additional section written as a part of the piece I would have preferred it to end with the previously mentioned quote, I think the additional information muddies the rest of the piece.

The Colder Face of Venice

Most people don't think about visiting Venice in the winter but Rachel Donadio did and her look at a typical tourist place during an off-season time provides a different perspective of Venice, uncommon to the pages of travel magazines and books. She intermixes personal memories with other literature references while describing things in rich sensory detail. She has me interested in her first paragraph: "The light, as always, was beyond compare and there was a watery chill in the air. I loved it immediately. Or rather, I remembered how much I loved it. Italy can do strange things to your perspective. Memories of a place become more real than the place itself. I had lived for years with the Venice of my recollections...and then last November I was back. I was older, so was Venice". She does a lot in this section of text, but it all works. She describes the scene using sensory language so that I know exactly what she's talking about when she describes the damp chill that clings to the air, she provides a personal touch informing the reader about her past trip and the fondness of her memories of the place. She makes an insightful observation that with a place like Italy often times your memories hold a greater sense of reality for you than the actual place, I think this is something that almost anyone who has travelled to a foreign place has experienced. And at the end she begins to almost personalize Venice, aging herself along with the watery city I am expecting to read about some changes that have taken place.

She goes on to reference the poetry of Joseph Brodsky, informing the reader that she used a "well-worn copy" of his collection of poems Watermark, "It is an emotional guidebook more than a practical one, but I would argue, just as reliable. In Venice, maps fails. As everyone knows to be in that floating city is to be forever lost and disoriented, as if in a labyrinth". Here, again, she is letting us know that the experience for her is indeed an emotional one, and goes further by saying that it is more reliable almost to depend on one's emotional guides rather than the standard practical ones like maps, which as she tells us fail. As some who has now visited Venice twice, and gotten thoroughly lost both times this is something I can attest to, even the Venetians don't know where things are half the time. The way to navigate Venice is not to navigate you at all but in some ways let it guide you, as you stumble along alley ways barely wider than you are don't waste your time staring at a map trying to pinpoint your location, it's useless and honestly just frustrating, instead try and breathe try to look at the surroundings about you.

Donadio gives some reasoning for her admiration of Venice in winter, unlike the tourist season of summer Venice, which she compares to "one big floating Disneyland", a comparison that is both equally disturbing and accurate. Instead of writing about the crowded summer streets she opts to talk about a quieter time, in extraordinary descriptive detail; "Distorted by light and water, time thickens in Venice. So does sounds. What I love best about the city is its glorious quiet, and its strange pace, as if you were living in slow motion. In Venice, hurrying will get you nowhere fast - or perhaps lost faster". I love her description of time and sound, in summer the pace of Venice seems anything but slow most of the time but noticing the locals, who are obvious because while everyone else is bustling around saddled with armfuls of shopping bags they merely sit, sipping a cafe or slowly enjoying a gelato, unlike the tourists who dash about hurrying to eat the sweet treat before it begins to drip down your hands creating a sticky mess.

The bustling robustness of the crowded summer Venice is gone in her wintery description instead her scene is a calmer one; "On winter nights, the lights of every trattoria beckon, little pockets of warmth against the damp. Once inside, my glasses were forever fogged". Again, I can just picture the soft glow of the trattoria lights, and the misty fog that would instantly cloud her lenses as she crosses the threshold into warmth. This idea of a calmer Venice is enforced even by the things that are often most obnoxiously forever present in the days of summer, pigeons, or flying rats as my mother refers to them, "In winter, by day, even the pigeons in the square seem subdued". She ends her mysteriously, calm portrait of winter in Venice by mentioning being lost once again, only this time the sense is different. She seems to be referencing getting lost, and the pleasure she takes in it as a way to spend just a few more precious moments in the winding streets of Venice, giving her just a few more minutes before letting go of the place during the time she loves it so much; "I thought that this might just be true happiness: being semi-lost in Venice on a cold and snowy day".

The Gardens of Sting

In a piece for Architectural Digest, Owens wrote a piece about the Tuscan gardens of singer Sting and his wife. The piece is largely based on pictures of their beautifully landscaped yard and the work of their landscaper, Arabella Lennox-Boyd. The piece has some nicely descriptive language and provides enough detail to adequately describe the scene without going overboard, it admits that the process was not a swift one, referencing Boyd as "Bomber Boyd" and comparing their yard to a "vast archaeological dig" but in the end it is a celebrity piece. The piece features the gardens and the landscaping, but lets face it if this was the yard of a nobody, while still impressive it probably wouldn't have made it to the prestigious pages of the Digest. The piece takes up 7 pages but has maybe a mere page length of text in total. If anything the piece probably got Boyd some additional business, and at the very least some great exposure to probably affluent clientele.

Under the Spell of Frances Mayes

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the name, Frances Mayes, she is the writer who wrote the story that was turned into the feature film, "Under the Tuscan Sun", in this article "Under the Etruscan Wall" we get a clear notion as to why her writing was chosen to grace movie screens everywhere. Immediately, within the first paragraph we see how personable and intimate her writing style is. She references her eighth grade World History class and her past growing up in the American South telling us that because of this, "I am used to the past intruding on the present". She goes on to connect her southern childhood with her new Tuscan adventures, "I wonder if this is why I came here, why I instantly felt so at home in Tuscany when I have not a drop of Mediterranean blood. In the South of my childhood, every house contained a story...". This sentence is an example of the type of honest writing that permeates the entire piece, she is sharing with the reader her exact thoughts as they come to her, she is not writing for an audience but rather a listener.

She emphasizes this personal style on the next page that informing us of her marital situation, having no qualms about telling the reader exactly why she's doing what she's doing and her doubts about it. "For me, buying a house in a foreign country was an audacious act. The end of my long marriage seemed to return me to the adventurer of my youth", the fact that she doesn't try to pretend like this was an easy experience, and that she includes mention of her divorce where she didn't have to already has me rooting for her, I want her to return to her adventurous youth, I want her to find happiness on this new path. She admits that her freedom is "scary", writing again on a truly emotional level, that shows no bias or hidden agenda she is letting the reader into her most personal experiences and thoughts. In case you were thinking her piece was all rosy tinted she very bluntly goes on to tell us that by her fifth summer, "I was no longer amused by the caprices of rented houses, however charming: sagging beds, no hot water, bats roosting in the fireplace, a caretaker who, uninvited, flies through the rooms shrieking and banging shutters whenever it rains", I feel like I have been traveling with her from her detailed and sensory descriptions, picturing the shrill of the shrieking Italian caretaker as they fly in the room unannounced and unapologetically. As she begins her house hunting journey, she continues to be a faithful companion, carrying the reader along with her every step of the way. She admits, "I was running on instinct, and instinct said time for a new kind of home. Time for the unknown. Time to answer the question Dante faced in The Divine Comedy: What now to do in order to grow"? She is on this path, she doesn't know where it is headed or where it will end up, but she is looking to grow and she allows the reader to join her in this intimate experience. When she finds her "dream house" she is not false about it, she maintains her honest dialogue telling the reader about albino scorpions in the bidet but she sweetly says, "but it resembles a house from a dream, one where you discover a room you did not know existed and in it a dry plant bursts into full bloom", it's a perfect description you can just tell that she is on the brink of blooming herself, I read on eager for her to reach the height of full blooming happiness. She goes on to describe the remodeling process and the work that she puts into the house, essentially showing us the transformation from house to home and she ends with a bit of history about the Bramasole, the name of her home. She concludes by saying, "perhaps the name goes back to the ancient purpose of this site, to the lost temple where people like me came when they were yearning for the sun", even in closing she is honest and sweet about what kind of person she is and what she is looking to get out of life, she writes from her head and her heart and it makes her writing endearing in a way that a personal diary almost would.

Tempting the Senses

Ingrid Williams writes about the small town of Carrara in a sensory descriptive and picturesque way, "Carrara Tempts Eyes and Mouth" goes beyond just descriptions of the visible, playing on the senses of what we hear and feel as well. In the first paragraph she tells us about the gleaming white mountain tops that rise above Carrara, but it is not what you'd expect the gleam comes from marble not frozen precipitation. In the next paragraph we get an interesting tid-bit and a little bit of history, building the reader's understanding of the importance of this Carrara marble; "Carrara's reputation if inextricably linked to the marble mountains that loom above the town, framing every scene. It was here during the Renaissance that Michelangelo found the block of white marble that he later transformed into 'David'". This section of text lets the reader know how important and intrinsic marble is to Carrara's society and that it has historical significance as it is the marble that makes up the now infamous statue of David.

She goes on to discuss visiting museums and their place in your travel itinerary but she goes back to discussing the mountains and then the caves, because of this attention to the un-obvious her piece does not seem biased to the ordinary tourist attractions but rather an insight into a new piece of paradise; "The real souvenir to treasure, though, is the unforgettable experience of ascending the steep, winding road toward the mountains". It was here, when she begins to describe the mountains and the caves in wonderfully sensory language that I became really engaged in the piece, almost feeling the chill of the cold stone that she described as I read it, remembering similar sensations from my own past. "After the initial shock of passing from the scorching summer heat to an eerily chilled darkness, the enormousness of it all begins to sink in. Sheer marble walls soar a hundred feet high while dripping water echoes through the shadowy, cavernous spaces. The atmosphere is truly otherworldly...". While reading this I can almost hear the distant dripping of the water, feel the eery chill coming from the cool stone and sense the blanket of dim darkness that seems to wrap anyone within it's shadowy walls.

A few paragraphs later she successfully makes a transition between two seemingly disconnected topics, marble and pork fat; "Other visitors, however, come to Carrara seeking another creamy white beauty... A luscious, delicate product made from the back fat of pigs, lardo di Colonnata bears an uncanny resemblance to the marble in which it is produced". Although I personally have never indulged in the creaminess of this Carrara delicacy from her description I feel like I can clearly picture it. She goes on to provide details as to how it is prepared and enjoyed, completely the readers virtual sensory meal and then she brings the two ideas together again in a fluid connection by saying, "But Carrara's contrasting pleasures - the hard marble and soft lardo...", the comparison through contrast is so effective that I am left remembering the two things as almost inextricably linked which is surprising considering at the start of the article I had never heard of lardo before and did not know of Carrara's precious marble.

5 Perfect Days...?

Hanya Yanagihara wrote the article, "5 Perfect Days in...Tuscany", while some may like to have every last detail of a trip planned out I have always found that a bit of budge leads to a more fulfilling and enjoyable trip, and also in the end a less stressful one. The article begins by stating "The Challenge", essentially to see and experience all of Tuscany in a mere 5 days, this is understandable but then "The Solution" is given and Yanagihara basically tells the reader that they need to go through a travel specialist like, Maria Teresa Berdondini; this solution seems a bit narrow in scope and limited in possibility. The article is presented in a a day-by-day form, but it gives away so much detail that it's overload, instead of giving me just enough a taste that my appetite is whetted and wanting more I feel like I've engorged myself on a rich meal, I don't need to go back for more, I've already had my fill. In addition to the heavy load of details the majority of the article follows and adheres to a strict time schedule, if life were perfect and trains always came on time, and alarm clocks always went off when they were supposed to this might be fine, a bit boring but fine none the less, however this is not the case. Trains come late, or more often is the case in Italy they don't come at all because there is yet another strike, people miss flights and take wrong turns, life is perfect so how is it a realistic expectation that people stick to a "perfect" time schedule? I think it's best to leave a bit of wiggle room, allowing for the unpredictable is less stressful and that is often when the greatest moments happen, the unplanned ones.

The entire article isn't planning and time tables though, there is some very clever and descriptive language that is actually quite applicable to the reader. One such example occurs in day 2 when she is providing a bit of history in describing the Medici family, "once one of the richest and most powerful families in Europe, the Medicis - bankers by trade, despots by design, and tastemakers by ambition - have no contemporary equivalent. To properly replicate their power, influence and welath, you'd have to combine the artistic patronage of the Rubells or the de Menils with the business acumen of the Rockefeelrs, add the political savvy of the Kennedys and the brute force of perfaps the Soprans, and you'd still fall short". If that doesn't paint a clear a picture as ever of the Medicis I don't know what kind of language would, it's highly descriptive in a way that is still understandable.

At the end of the piece their is a section for "How to Book" again mentioning the travel agency, leaving me with a bit of an odd taste, is the piece biased to outline this travel guides itinerary? Are these the places that they are hired to show people? Were these really the things to do and sights to see if you want "5 perfect days'?

Embracing the Undiscovered

In the article, "Undiscovered Tuscany" by Gary Shteyngart, we get another view of Tuscany that hasn't been prevalent among other articles on the area. After reading the lead the reader really doesn't have a clear idea of what they're in for at all, the paragraph continues interjecting the unexpectedly humorous observation, "for all the beauty around you, the eye is drawn to a huge pair of boxer shorts hanging from a window", but alas at the end of the paragraph the reader still doesn't have a clue where the piece is going. Then he informs us in a cleverly intriguing way, "And then a small tempest stirred the world press. The Kebab controversy", who ever thought of kebabs as a controversy, or as tempests? Now he has my full attention. He goes on to provide a bit of background history then to inform the reader of the current kabob situation, telling us that last year the city banned the ethnic restaurants from opening in the center of the city in an effort of preservation for the tradition of the Tuscan cuisine. "Too many of the town's children were coming home bearing the greasy thumbprints of foreign kebabs. The local left quickly decried the 'gastronomic racism' and 'culinary ethnic cleansing,' while Italy's minister of agriculture, a member of the anti-immigrant Northern League, supported the banning of non-regional food, proudly announcing: 'I even refuse to eat pineapple'". In this chunk of text Shteyngart reveals that this issue is only about kebabs on the surface, in fact it goes much deeper than that down to the root of the problem is the issue of cultural preservation in the face of the ever changing scenery thanks to globalization and increased immigration.

In the next paragraph he asks a series of questions, pulling the reader in further by demanding that they internalize the issue, he does not provide relief by giving answers; "Do we wish to see small pockets of history and tradition, or do we want to open our ears and hear the fresh news the world whispers insistently each day"? The article continues in a similar manner, combining information with an approachable style of language that allows the reader to tap into his thought process and make their own opinions at the same time. He brings the article full circle by ending on his own opinion saying, "I am happy to live in a world where muddy fish stews can exist in a short train ride away from heaps of golden tortelli lucchese, where kebabs are cheap and plentiful, and where a simple Tuscan faro soup can remind an Indian mother of home". As a recent recipient of my first kebab, I must admit, that I too am pleased to have them present in the Italian culinary scene.

Tuscany from the Inside

The focus of this post comes from the article "Insider's Tuscany" by Tom Mueller for the National Geographic Traveler. "Tuscany is one of those few, precious things in life - like springtime, Shakespeare, and the power of first love - that cannot be overrated", the lead and the language he uses instantly pulls me in. While I may not consider Shakespeare one of the precious things in life, I must admit I can be a sucker for romance so the idea of the power of first love is quite picturesque; it's a universal lead that allows numerous readers to relate to it. At the end of the introduction paragraph he makes another useful comparison by comparing the size of Tuscany to the size of New Jersey, even if you've never been to Jersey most people know that it's not a big state.

In the next paragraph he provides details like the fact that the Tuscans, "like to call each other toscanacci - nasty old Tuscans - in celebration of their agrarian bluntness and vigor", that give the reader the sense that he knows what he's talking about, he's spent time in this place so that he has seen beyond the superficial level. Shortly after this he emphasizes this trustworthy familiarity when saying, "Tuscans also have an extra helping of what is superficially called passion, but is better termed obsession: an intense, even savage attention to life's fine print". To me this gives me a great impression of what these people are like, they don't overlook the small things, they don't take the small things for granted and they are constantly paying attention to the micro that resides inside the macro picture.

From this intriguing introduction the article then turns into a kind of narrative list of "35 ways to love Tuscany as the Tuscans do", he provides a list of unexpected and un-obvious things that make me want to try a few. He does not simply list the activity or place he includes personal narrative analogies and quotes, bringing life into the list and making it applicable and accsessible to the reader.

The Drink of Princes

"The Accidental Connoisseur" is a lengthy piece by Lawrence Osborne about the richness and full-bodied story of wines in Italy, particularly the Antinori. Prepare yourself to sit with this article for a short while because it's 28 pages in length, but it's filled with cleverly descriptive phrases like, "Chianti, that uncrowned prince of the peninsula's nectars". The article is well-balanced, it does not come off as being overly positive, or entirely negative, he accomplishes this in several subtle ways. Early on in the story at one point he's trying on of his first "Super-Tuscan" wines and when Marchese asks him what he thinks about it he honestly admits that "it's not really for him". At another point in the article he goes to a restaurant where he tells us, "I had made a secret and horrified note of the prices of their Sassicaia, informing the reader to be prepared for steeply over-priced wines in many places. When talking about going to the Gates of Paradise he says, "The Gates of Paradise are one thing the foreigner in Florence never seems able to avoid, and which always proves disappointing because of the crowds". Towards the end of the piece he's discussing the wine estate of Eleanor Stucchi and bluntly describes it as being, "neither remote nor ascetic - in fact, it was not even remotely ascetic. Quite the contrary, the restaurant overlooking the wild ravines was filled with honeymooners from Brooklyn and large luridly clad contingent of amateur cyclists on tour from Missouri", it may not paint a pretty picture but it paints a truthfully, realistic one.

It is language like that, and poignant phrases like, "Wine summons ghosts out of the cupboards", which are emotionally written and highly descriptive that allows the reader to see things as he sees them, through Osbourne's eyes. He provides you with enough intimate details so that you're not bogged down by over-information but you can tell he spent an intimate amount of time at these places and with these people, he is reliable. It is this mix of reliability and honesty that make you feel like he genuinely wants to inform the reader in an honest, not fluffed-up piece, admitting tiny details even like at one point he becomes tipsy, "...soon I was flushed and light-headed. This was not very 'professional,' but my host seemed indulgent and merely asked if I was tipsy". He then responds by admitting that he is indeed tipsy. Ending the piece on another honest but beautifully descriptive phrase he admits, he has seen enough of Tuscany he think and he's ready for, "something more primitive and more chaotic: the sun, a whiff of the hysterical Dionysus".

It's All About Florence

Gully Wells wrote the piece, "Forever Florence", it's a long piece with a lot of information but some nicely worded descriptions are mixed in along the way. The introduction doesn't really give you much of a feel for what the rest of the piece is about, Via Tornabuoni? Procacci and truffle sandwiches? While the intro may not be very telling as to where the rest of the piece is going it does include the type of eye-catching descriptive writing style that I mentioned a moment ago. Talking about the panini al tartufo, "These small truffle sandwiches - the aroma is enough to make you drool and swoon - are best experienced with a glass of prosecco and are guaranteed to elevate your mood and bridge that dispiriting gap between cappuccino and lunch". So I might not know where the rest of the piece is headed at this point but one thing is for sure, I suddenly want a truffle sandwich or a cappuccino, I'm not sure which.

She goes on to start discussing fine linens and lingerie, and one shop in particular in rather lengthy detail. While some of the descriptions are pleasant little breaks like, "visible through a window, a gaggle of grannies were seated at a table, needles in hand, busily sewing away", I don't feel that there needed to be quite so many words dedicated to this particular subject. We get a brief note of history when she mentions some of Florence's famous wealthy merchant families, using it to emphasize the opulence of the Florentine lifestyle; "The merchant princes of the Florentine Renaissance - not just the Medicis but families like the Strozzis, the Tornabuonis, and the Rucellais - inhabited a world informed by sublime beauty". She continues to describe this long-standing tradition of elegance, and notes that she doesn't see it changing any time soon.

She then begins to tell us about her tour with tour guide Raffaello Napoleone, they begin with a traditional Bellini, while they sit and plan out their future excursions, again it's done with immense detail but probably was not necessary for the reader. In several paragraphs we are told about a silk business, finally then transitioning into art, as she crosses the Piazza Santa Maria Novella making an astute observation: "It is probably impossible for the modern mind to understand the profound shock that Florentines in the mid-fifteenth century must have felt when they first saw what Leon Battista Alberti had done to the exterior of their ancient Gothic church". After describing this bold transformation, again in highly descriptive and lengthy detail we switch to talking about the art of leather and a tannery. After several paragraphs we finally move on to food where like everything else is done in Florence, food too is done slowly. For a moment we go back to the leather goods and there is a mention of Neiman Marcus and Bergdorf Goodman, tossing the reader an American lifeline, even if just for a moment.

We then learn about some of the apothecaries and perfumeries, and one in particular that used to be a church but here a description is a nice touch to get the feel of such a sensory place, "Its vaulted ceiling is decorated with gilded frescoes, there are Gothic cabinets full of glass bottles and vials flanking an alcove where the altar once stood, and instead of incense, the air is suffused with the scent of potpourri...".

After going on for awhile longer we finally near the conclusion, which she wraps up in a fairly neat way tying all things Florence back to the greats like Michelangelo, Leonardo and Donatello, and while she remarks that their craftsmanship was something to behold it's no wonder that Florence has carried on some of their elegant traditions because their descendants have continued to trickle down through Florentine culture. She lives us with the notion of "falling under the city's spell, which can transform the act of shopping from a guilt trip to the feeling that you are, in fact, collaborating in works of the highest art".

Falling For Clancy

Reporter, Ambrose Clancy, wrote an article for The Washington Post on the city of Florence entitled, "Falling for Florence", before I had finished the article I found myself falling for Clancy.

The article puts an unexpected twist on the typical article written about the "beauty" of Florence, his introduction sets this unique perspective; "Before you go to Florence, people who have been will inevitably say, 'Oh, Florence is beautiful'. You won't be the first to wonder upon arriving what they're talking about". He goes on to give several examples of other famous historic figures who felt strongly against the city, while I did not recognize the names I didn't feel that I needed to for their inclusion to be meaningful and applicable. Clancy continues down this unusual path; "The Duomo and Giotto's bell tower are jaw dropping in their gaudy marble, the Baptistery and example of the school of design whose manifesto is that a thing worth doing is worth overdoing. But beautiful"? Again, the use of terms like "gaudy" and even the mere question of whether or not these landmark monuments are actually beautiful peeks my interest, I had kind of just assumed that by default these sights were indeed beautiful. Clancy goes on, "Looking to the heights surrounding the city, you might wish to be up there and not down in the dun-colored town walking in the hive-like streets swarming with mopeds driven by maniacs (It's no accident that 'vespa' in Italian means 'wasp')". Clancy is again using strong word choice with the likes of "dun-colored", "swarming", and "maniacs". At this point I'm almost starting to question, do I even want to keep this place on my travel itinerary? The interesting little factoid that he adds about the meaning of vespa in Italian makes the description of the streets that much more vivid, as I picture the streets filled with loudly buzzing , motorized wasps with horns for stingers.

At this point though he refers to Florence as "the capital of the Renaissance", reminding the reader that the city does have, even if maybe nothing else, a rich and undeniable history. He then provides a brief but manageable and useful history, that any reader could follow and find useful in understanding why Florence is such an English-speaking "friendly zone". He follows his history lesson with a lesson on dealing with the swarming mopeds. This is where I really began to fall for Clancy, his descriptive, while simultaneously humorous writing style is almost impossible to ignore. So forgive me while I quote a brief passage, but for those of you who have not read the article I simply must provide you with a literary taste: "First, a tip on how to avoid being run down or getting freaked by the demonic bikes. In the narrow medieval byways it's often necessary to abandon the crowded sidewalks and take to the street. Your first experience of this can cause panic as you hear the idiot whine of mopeds bearing down on you. But just keep walking in a straight line, don't look back (because for sure they're gaining on you), and they will pass you. Pass you in a blur, but they will pass. We live in hope". How do you just not love that?

In case you were beginning to think that Clancy has lost his way and begun to ramble about the dangers of mopeds he brings you back to Florence in one swift transition; "When you start to think, hey, it must be a serious blast to buzz around on one of those things, then you've made peace with the place. The moped in many ways represents the spirit of Florence, which is the spirit of the adventurous young... Look closely and that spirit will attach itself to you, no matter what your age, it you'll let it. With this Clancy gives us a glimpse of the supposed "beauty" of Florence we've all been told about as he slowly begins to peel back the noisy outer layer.

He then goes on to briefly discuss eating at the market of Sant' Ambrogio and suggests going to the nearby antique and flea markets of Piazza dei Ciompi; "Have coffee in even the most dubious cafe with a jam stuffed doughnut and you'll stare at your cup and think: I've never had coffee until this moment". Here, he is providing us with another peak at the "beauty"we've been told to expect of Florence. From there he goes on to discuss culture, and of course discusses the Galleria dell'Academia where Michelangelo's infamous David statue resides, Clandy remarks that, "Standing before it in its own skylighted gallery, you'll be overwhelmed at the scale of the thing, the nakedness, the drama of the stone... Seeing it in the flesh (and the enduring and seductive mystery of classical and Renaissance sculpture is that marble has become naked flesh) allows one of Italy's gifts, Humanism - the belief that the divine is within us - to shine". Once again, not only are Clancy's word choice and descriptions perfectly formed on the page but he effortlessly shifts from talking about coffee to art, in a way that seems natural.

From talking about David and the historic art of Florence he brings the reader back into the present by mentioning Daniel Gravers, director of the Florence Academy of Art; "A visit to the gallery, with its black cloths, softly falling light and hushed intensity of the artists, will allow you a peek into something unchanged for 500 years, a glance into the Renaissance of Florence...".

Finally, after another smooth transition from the gallery to talking about the strenuous, but rewarding climb up the Duommo he ends by saying, "If the word 'beautiful' comes to your lips, don't be surprised", and just like that he has brought the reader full circle, but just to ensure that we'll act on our newfound understanding of the city's beauty there is a small informative section that covers how to get there, where to stay, eat and shop along with information on music and art. I can happily say, in falling for Clancy I do believe I have fallen for Florence.

The Lost Art of Rome

From the collection, Italy, A Love Story, Barbara Grizzuti Harrison's piece, "Rome, the Art of Living", paints a contradictory picture. The piece is not particularly easy to read, jumping around at times trying to sound more like poetry than an article it is hard to follow the writer's intentions. The piece does not seem to convey "the Art of Living", for the majority of the text. She remarks that, "Rome seems perpetually on the very edge of ruin", which is ironic because most of the piece seems to discuss the state of ruin that she perceives Rome to currently be in. Writing as more of an archeological travel writer some of her writing is beautifully descriptive but not really telling as to what the point is that she's trying to make.

Near the conclusion though she makes some interesting points that highlight the juxtaposition of the current state of Rome, citing how there is now a McDonald's near the Spanish Steps and a Benny Burger on the Viale di Trastevere. Her ending sentence however hints that perhaps she is writing out of a place of love and defense for the historic greatness of the city of Rome, and that is where the angry tone of the rest of the piece is coming from. Shifting from a mild rant about the fast food take over she admits, "...But no one is so beautiful, taking his ease, as a Roman; and at night, on the viale, it is lively and gay, and Rome is not 'spoiled', only minimally altered, immensely lovable, pleasing not in every part but steadfastly beautiful as a whole. It remains in its essentials unalterable".

Stalking The Divine One

"Stalking Michelangelo" is an article written by Lorenzo Carcaterra, focused on the artist Michelangelo and the city he loved most, Florence. Carcaterra immediately sets a tone for the piece with his introduction; "Florence will forever be Michelangelo's. More than 400 years after his death, the artist's presence engulfs this well-loved city in central Italy, his stature enhances it, his work dominates it". Carcaterra who has visited Florence so many times he considers it his "second home", is passionate about Michelangelo, but during this trip he wants to see attempt to see the city as, "the divine one", saw it during his time.

Michelango-phile, Paulo Murino, who Carcaterra informs us has read every Italian book on the artist he could get his hands on, makes an interesting point about Michelangelo and the business savvy of both the artist and the city. Michelangelo is not just remembered because he was talented but because he understood how to get his work seen by as many people as possible. Carcaterra tells us, "Take away the cars, scooters, and antennas, and Florence is much the way it was when Michelangelo walked its streets". This sentence implies that Florence has managed to maintain a sense of its original identity, some several-hundred years later. Following this Carcaterra begins to take the reader along with him for his journey through Florence in the footsteps of the artist; "Most of my friends in Florence speak of Michelangelo in personal terms, as if he were family". This sentence depicts the closeness of the intimate connection that the city and its' people share with the artist. As he begins his trip, starting at the home of Michelangelo Carcaterra provides detailed descriptions of the sights as he sees them, allowing the reader to walk with him, while he does this he interjects artistic facts about the artist's works as he comes across them.

A quote from a random man standing near the author brings into question how the great artist would feel about his modern state of fame, that has turned replicas of his great works into common tourist souvenirs: "His shoes on display, his great works sold as refrigerator magnets and bookmarks. Did you know that in one of the piazzas you can buy men's underwear with the bottom half of 'David' on them"? I contemplated this question after reading it, because part of me feels like the business man in Michelangelo would be pleased with the obvious success of his work represented by the current situation, after all the man made himself very wealthy as a result of being a bit of a real estate trader. But I can't help but feel like the careful, reserved artist in him would be disturbed - this is not the purpose he made his art for, is it?

Carcaterra continues to take us with him on his journey reaching the infamous statue of David. I loved that he included the story about the mayor's reaction to the size of David's nose, and Michelangelo's quick-thinking response, acting with such assurance that his work was already perfect as it was. When he reaches the "Florentine Pieta", I liked the interesting side-story that Carcaterra included about Michelangelo's apparent short fuse and explosive temper. It was a side of the artist I felt I had not heard much about before, but as a museum attendant notes, "No one questioned his actions, no matter how out of the ordinary they were. When it came to his work, Michelangelo was free to behave as he pleased". To me this gave me the sense that Michelangelo might have actually been somewhat restrained or limited in other areas, but when it came to his work, whether you liked him or not, he was so revered for his extraordinary talent that it didn't matter where he was driving the cart, he held the reigns.

The piece follows a natural pattern, beginning with the start of Michelangelo's career and ending with his death and funeral. Carcaterra includes a quote from an elderly monk that captures the importance of Michelangelo even in death; "Florence was burying more than a pope or lord. It was burying a giant". To be put above the status of a pope says something truly extraordinary about the depth of the city's love and admiration for the artist, and to this day it is still, "the greatest funeral the city has ever known".

Carcaterra concludes the article with a scene that occurs before the bust of Michelangelo, the conclusion is magical and made me feel like I was standing there next to him. Carcaterra describes a gentle old man who was also gazing at the bust and remarks about the feeling that is always leaves him with, even after visiting it hundreds of times. The feeling as he describes it is, "That we are nothing but specks of dust, on this Earth for a short time, but some dust lingers for longer periods. Like the dust of Michelangelo. His dust will cling to us, be a part of us, up until the very end".

This concludes the written section of his article but attached to it is a "Florence Sourcebook" that as a fellow traveler I found very applicable and easy to use, allowing the reader the opportunity to go and see the sights for themselves.