Today I am pleased to welcome T A Williams to my blog to celebrate the publication of 'Dreaming of Florence', which is a fantastic book that takes the reader on a tour of Florence. I have never been to Italy, let alone Florence, however while reading 'Dreaming of Florence' I could feel the Italian sun on my skin and the gorgeous scenery surrounding me. The author's writing allowed me to experience the sounds, smells and tastes of Florence from the comfort of my own home. I really enjoyed the story and felt it brought some of the Italian sun to my life during England's dull and gloomy winter months.
The Fascination of Italy
TA (Trevor) Williams tells us why he loves
writing books set in Italy
and why he chose it for his latest – Dreaming
of Florence.
Before we go any further, I must hold my
hand up and admit that I am a confirmed Italophile. I lived there for eight
years, my wife is Italian, we still speak Italian together - even though we’ve
been back in the UK
now for forty years - and, just to put the icing on the cake, we have a Fiat
500. I have friends and relatives in Italy and I love going back to
visit this wonderful country.
For a writer, being able to write about a
subject with which you are completely familiar is a great advantage. Although I
still make regular “research trips” to Italy to check that everything is
still as I remember it, I know I’m writing about something very, very familiar.
I’m currently thinking about starting a future book in the sweaty jungles of Equatorial
Africa and, although you can find out all sorts of information on the internet
these days, no computer can give you everything. I want the smells, the
imperceptible gestures of the people, the feel of the clothes, or the sound of
a black mamba infiltrating its way into my tent (from a safe distance, I trust).
Italy has no black mambas,
but I do know that unmistakable smell of old incense, dust and humanity that
greets any visitor to Florence’s
iconic Duomo. I also instantly recognise the hand gestures an Italian uses to
tell me the food is good, the girl beautiful, or the driver of the car in front
a moron.
Italy is such
a diverse country. We have a stereotype of Italy as a composite of gondolas,
pizzas, priests in black robes, Roman amphiteatres, and Ferraris driven by
handsome Latin Lovers. These do indeed exist, but the country – and the people
– differ so very much from region to region. Don’t forget that Italy is a very
recent addition to the family of nations. Up to 1861, it was just a collection
of different – and often warring – states, and a peasant from Calabria
would have been unable to understand a single word spoken by a peasant from Tuscany. And don’t forget
that there are still today regions of Italy where they speak French, and
others where they speak German – although Italian is taught as the lingua
franca. Indeed, my wife’s native language (she’s from the very far north, in
the Alps) is a dialect that is still impenetrable
to a fellow Italian living only a few hundred kilometres down the road.
This very diversity is what gives the
country so much of its charm. In my latest book, Dreaming of Florence, the characters can step out of their doors in
the middle of the Florence
and be on the ski slopes in little more than an hour and a half. On that very
same day, the temperature a bit further down the peninsula might be like a
balmy summer day in England.
People can be dining outside on the Italian Riviera while less than a hundred
kilometres away, the temperature is well below zero, and there is ice on the
roads. Italy
is a very long country. I remember when, shortly after I arrived in Turin in northern Italy,
I was told that the distance from there back to London
was considerably shorter than from there to the southern tip of Italy. If you
look at a map, you’ll see that Florence is still
pretty far north, but the feel of the place is so very different from Venice to the north or Naples to the south.
Florence, in my opinion, has it all. It has a rich and fascinating history,
incomparable art and architecture, delightful scenery and warm, welcoming
people – although some of them can hide it pretty well at times. I love the
city, just as I love the whole country, and I hope some of my love shines
through as you read Dreaming of Florence.
Thank you to the publishers, Canelo, and to T A Williams for inviting me to take part in this blog tour and a copy of the book in return for an honest review.
