Historical Fiction

The Kite Runner, novel by Khaled Hosseini published in 2003 and movie by Marc Foster (2007) 

Art Spiegelmann's Maus, graphic novel (1991) about the Shoah

Umberto Eco's novel The Name of the Rose (1980) and the film by Jean-Jacques Annaus (1986)

Do you agree with the following statement?
‘The historian, if honest, gives us a photograph; the storyteller gives us a painting.’

From ‘Historical Fiction for our Global Times’, Leon Garfield

Please answer the following question.

‘You have to write an historical novel, what would you write about and why? (Think about a) characters, plot, style, themes, and message) .’

Useful link
http://historicalnovelsociety.org/

Ancient Stages

It's funny how history can be lost between stones and grass, between the distance of time and memory. I stood on the ruins of the tribunes of the Greek ampitheater of Taormina and felt a thousand lifetimes flash by. I tried to imagine what it would be like to be an ancient Greek, washed and ready to take in a night of theater. What it would be like to be there when all was still whole, the ampitheater standing polished, gleaming stone in the saddle of a hill, with the open back of the stage giving way to a backdrop so perfect it couldn't be painted. Etna, the ever-present house of the god Hephaestus, standing tall behind the stage. I’d be there to worship, the theater my temple, the stories of gods and men played before me. Three tragedies and a comedy, all that’s needed to achieve catharsis. Perhaps I’d walk to the back of the theater first, to look out over the endless blue of the Ionian sea and the Mediterranean beyond, towards Greece, towards home.

Then the Romans came, the theater expanded and rebuilt with brick. The tragedies of the Greek stage gave way to the everyday tragedies of the death of gladiators, killed for sport, for spectacle, the temple transformed into a circus. But that couldn't last forever. Somewhere across the sea, an empire collapsed, and with that, the Arabs came to Taormina. They couldn’t abide the Romans, or the town, and destroyed everything they could. The pillars of the stage fell, and the stage lay dormant, for decades leaving only the silent, far-off eruptions of Etna to play to empty seats.

Eventually, the Spanish came. Taking advantage of what was already there, a rich family turned the lofted space above the entrance into an apartment with an incredible view and an amazing backyard (I wondered if they ever picnicked on the seats. I knew that if I lived there, I’d eat breakfast over the ocean every day).

The centuries passed across the stage, and with them kingdoms rose and fall, the earth shook and the mountain erupted, taking with it most of a far-off city, and still, the theater stood. Even when the bombs came, during a war that engulfed the entire world for the second time, the theater remained.

As I stood there on 2200 years of history, surrounded by an ephemeral parade of other tourists, I wondered what the following centuries would bring, what history the stage would host or bear witness to. I wondered if, even after humans were gone, if the theater would still remain, its stage lit only by the passing sun and the fires of Etna.

Taking Taormina

The city of Taormina is an undeniably beautiful one. In experiencing the city and comparing it to Florence, it is easy to see that Taormina is equally as focused on its history and creation. Taormina, however, has a hugely different founding history than does Florence. Taormina is a much more Greek influenced city and was resilient to the renaissance. It is also borderline obsessed, as it should be, with Mt. Etna as it is so close to the city. Water life is obviously also a huge part of the city, as it sits on the coast. As a tourist for a week, we saw the bright beauty of Taormina -- the views, the gardens, the oceans, the food. As with Florence, however, I am sure there is a negative dark side to it. As we wandered, it was easy to see and appreciate the beauty, but it was also easy to see and notice how many dark corners and sometimes shady people there were throughout the city. 

The city itself had an entirely different feel than Florence does. Florence is obviously full of rich history and beauty, but Taormina's is of a different kind. The buildings aren't nearly as tall, allowing for much more natural light in all the walkways. The food is very comparable by some aspects, but entirely different by others. It seemed that they were much more focused (if that's possible) on social experiences than Florentines are. Our home stay dinner, for example, was an extremely slow paced, conversational based experience. It is easy for me to say, however, that in all of the places I've visited in Europe, Toarmina tops the list of favorites. 

Travel Writing - Coming to Taormina

When you first step off the plane at the Catania airport, it doesn’t feel much different from mainland Italy. Sicily is a few degrees warmer, to be sure, but nothing strikes you as particularly special. Then again, once you’ve been to one small airport you’ve been to them all. Once you get out into the city, the real Sicily starts to show itself. The buildings are generally less ornate than in Florence, but there is a certain indescribable air of history and timelessness about them. Largely untouched by the renaissance (of Florentine origin), Catania’s landmark churches instead feature Muslim and Norman influences. The city is far less crowded than Florence, and what few tourists there are seem to be more interested in the food than anything else. Catania maintains the small-town feel that eludes many populous cities, despite being the second largest city in Sicily and boasting nearly 300,000 inhabitants.

However, the truly distinct feel of Sicily doesn’t fully hit you until you escape into the lush countryside. The coast is littered with picturesque towns that overlook the Ionian Sea. Red clay roofs and pastel colored houses contrast beautifully with the green grass and sapphire sea. Around every corner of the winding road out of Catania lies a view even more breathtaking than the last, culminating with Taormina. Perched high on a promontory some two hundred meters above the sea, Taormina is composed of a cluster of sandstone buildings. Directly beneath the town lies Isola Bella, a quasi-island nature reserve and beach surrounded by crystal clear water. The entire scene is stunning, but even more so when you turn to see Mount Etna, an active volcano, looming over the town. Bringer of both fortune and destruction to the region, Mount Etna dominates the skyline. Words do little justice to this awe-inspiring setting; there is truly no substitute for feeling the steady breeze and breathing in the array of fragrances while soaking up the timeless view from Taormina. 

Visions of Taormina.

The first stop on our week long adventure in Sicily was to Catania, which is the second largest city in Sicily, and built on top of the lava of Mt. Etna. Catania has been given the nickname of “the black city”, which was the opinion I had before I even learned of it. A large portion of the building material used in Catania is stones made out of the hardened lava, which is black, thus giving the buildings and therefore the city, a dark look and feeling. Catania was nice, but I wasn’t overly impressed, and was a little worried that Taormina would have a similar feeling to it, seeing it too is close to Etna. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Taormina was a tiny picturesque town that I would love to live in. The first full day we had in Taormina made me instantly fall in love. The language school we were attending, Babilonia, was absolutely breathtaking and I felt like I was in paradise. Everything from the warm rays of the sun, to the sweet smells of the wisteria, made me fall in love and never want to leave. Taormina definitely was a tourist attraction and a coastal city, but strolling the streets of the city was an experience unlike that of Florence. English is not the language you hear by most tourists passing by you or inside a shop. Perhaps it is because of the language school, but most people speak Italian, or at least attempt to. Many times inside the shops, owners asked if we went to the school, helped us with our Italian, told us they would tell Alessandro, the director of Babilonia, that we spoke only in Italian, and gave us a discount for being a student there. Many times in Florence, when I or other students, try to speak Italian in a shop the workers will often respond back in English, which can be very frustrating to a student that is trying to practice and make an effort to speak the native language. Those in Taormina were very friendly and encouraging to us, which made each encounter more pleasant than the last. Taormina, despite being a tourist attraction, has a very small town feel. It was not uncommon for me to see the same people every day, and start to build a rapport with them. I often witnessed locals running into each other on the street, saying a quick hello, or seeing what the other was up to for the day. Despite the beauty and rich history of the town and the immense presence of Mt. Etna, Taormina had a simplistic, peaceful and genuine feel to it that was quite enchanting. During my trip I made an effort to try many of the typical Sicilian dishes and I was not disappointed. Everything was absolutely delicious, and I wish that I could find such dishes in Florence. One of the things that I liked the most was all of the restaurants that were located on the little side streets and staircases. Even if we didn’t have a view of the sea, the cute back corners and tables scattered about the stairs made for a pleasant and picturesque evening. It definitely was a perk that the town was built on the side of the mountain, because you could use the direction of the slope to help you find your way. I did not use a map at all during the week and did not get lost once. We often decided to just wander through the streets and take little mini-adventures and see where the road would take us. While Florence is an old city with a rich history, it feels very connected to the present and has its own share of daily problems. While I have been in awe of the history and beauty of the city and I'm miles away from home, I never feel completely separated from reality. The feeling of crazy city life and daily politics is always there, unlike in Taormina.   Overall, Taormina felt like its own little world, where there were no problems and everyone got along. It was quite surreal, and I loved every minute of it. 

E. Montemurro