This plain Jane Tuscan town doesn’t have the stunning hilltop location, high stone walls, duomos, or frescos by famous artists that its more touristed neighbors have. Which makes it even better as the location of an archive and little museum, dedicated to the diaries and other unpublished autobiographical writing of ordinary people.
Over the past four days, it was remarkable to see this sleepy town fill up with hundreds of diary enthusiasts who sat through dramatic diary readings and diary-inspired theatre productions and interviews with diarists with nary a soul nodding off (except me, since it was all in Italian).
We joined a hundred plus people for Sunday lunch (when in Tuscany!) in the same restaurant we ate at on Friday for dinner. The food kept on coming, family style, five courses and I had to quit after the pasta course. (#3?) My stomach rebelled. . . The set meal was illuminating because it showed us what the custom is here. We can barely do pasta and a side vegetable and shared dessert, especially midday.
About 500 people crowded into a semi- open air auditorium for the final ceremony, the Pieve Prize event awarded to the best newly submitted diary or memoir or correspondence, which went past the 2 hour scheduled time. The eight finalist donors sat on the stage and a radio personality interviewed each finalist, plus there was a dramatic reading of their submission (that they or a family member wrote) by two actors accompanied by live music. It was hot and long but people’s enthusiasm never seemed to waver. Impressive.
The winner was finally announced, a young woman who wrote a memoir, not a diary, about having a devastating stroke at age 30 and five years of recovery. She discreetly wiped tears from her eyes as the audience applauded and photos were snapped. She wins 1,000 euros and her writing will be published and who know, it may be among the other published diaries/memoirs in the museum gift shop that festival goers were buying and sticking in their diary archive and museum book bags. Even before the winner was announced, copies of a regional newspaper were available with a multi-page special section on the festival highlighting the finalists and printing excerpts of their writing. Amazing to see such a fuss made over the humble diary (and it’s kissing cousins, the memoir and letters). And a wonderful way to preserve Italy’s culture and heritage and memory of “ordinary” Italians.The day after the festival, we toured the archive itself, full of thousands of handwritten diaries, memoirs and letters. The town had returned to its work-a-day nature with a street market in the central piazza.
TakeBetsywithyou 