When Mountains Dance by Christine Toomey

When the Mountains Dance 

by Christine Toomey

 SUMMARY:

Love, loss and hope in the heart of Italy

‘In the wake of the strongest earthquake in Italy for nearly forty years and the many aftershocks that followed, Italians began speaking of the earth beneath our feet as la terra ballerina, the dancing earth. The dance they spoke of was unrelenting.’

Foreign correspondent Christine Toomey spent years renovating her glorious, long-abandoned hill-top home in Le Marche, Italy, as a haven of rest from covering crises around the world. But in 2016, the peace and beauty of this beloved landscape were thrown into chaos when a series of powerful earthquakes struck the heart of the Apennines.

Wracked with grief for a place still reverberating with seismic aftershocks, Christine decided that one way of preserving the community was to tell its history.

Fuelled by the artefacts uncovered in her attic - including oil paintings and lithographs, a map, thick with dust but showing details of the earthquake that obliterated Messina in 1908, and century-old letters belonging to the enigmatic priest who had occupied her house a century earlier - Christine set out on a journey to tell the story of the earthquakes that devastated the region.

The result is a heartfelt, insightful and life-affirming story about the places that make us, and the life-changing thunderbolts that can come at all of us, at any time, from any quarter.

MY REVIEW:

Reflective. Thought-provoking. Absorbing. Captivating. Yes - I adored this book. It is an autobiographical memoir, a rich travel guide, an enchanting ghost story, and a compelling first-hand account of human resilience in the face of devastating natural disasters from an award-winning foreign correspondent.

The prologue sets the stage for the main story and hooks the reader with subtle foreshadowing to create anticipation and curiosity. Earthquake – (Terremoto) – the dreaded word. Is it a sign of God’s power and warnings of coming judgment? The author investigates all sorts of theories and hypotheses, and I commend the amount of research undertaken to give explanations, whether they are religious, scientific or just superstitious and myths. Those of us who buy property in central Italy are seduced by the opportunity to immerse ourselves in traditional Italian culture, live ‘la dolce vita’ in beautiful landscapes, and the opportunity to own our own historic building, which overrides the fact that we live in a highly seismically active location. There is a fault line along the Apennine mountain range, in central Italy, which is being actively stretched. While earthquakes are part of the natural environment of the Earth’s crust and are necessary to relieve the enormous pressure created at fault lines, experiencing one is another matter.

The author refers to tales of strange behaviour in the animal kingdom before an earthquake and proffers the view that although animals don’t have a sixth sense for earthquakes, their keen senses may pick up subtle environmental changes that humans miss, which makes them highly sensitive to physical phenomena that may precede one. Mere mortals, as we are, cannot reliably predict the exact time, location, and magnitude of major earthquakes. It makes the story feel crafted and meaningful by subtly preparing the reader for what’s to come, and of course, it provides a clear connection to the main story. For anyone blissfully unaware of the sound the ground makes, it is “a great howl”, an urlo or boato – a ferocious roar. It was, as they say, ‘as if the mountains were crying out. As if the very earth were in labour.’ This is a really powerful metaphor and very accurate as I know myself.

From the first chapter, the author invites readers to share in her experience of buying a house in the region of Le Marche. How did she even know of this charming medieval hilltop town in Italy’s Marche region, known for its beauty and history within the Sibillini Mountains?

She tells us she was looking for ‘a place where she could find stillness in a life of perpetual movement’. She found it while reading a magazine article on a train journey to Edinburgh, and it is beautifully described.

‘It was a bitter February day, and a blur of mist shrouded trees and sodden fields glided by the train’s rain-flecked windows. I leafed through the pages of the magazine and sank into an account of how a Canadian architect had converted two cobblers’ cottages into a spacious home with a spectacular view of the Sibillini mountains. The photographs were inviting and I promised myself I would visit one day.’

The description and history of Amandola is charmingly delivered. The reader can smell the freshly baked bread, the intense aroma of an espresso, all wrapped up in a slow pace of life, deep community bonds and local traditions in a town with a historical abundance of almond trees (mandorla/mandorlo),

‘The moment I pushed open the flaking wooden shutters on the top floor of the house in the centre of town, I was captivated. Looking out over the terracotta rooftops towards the octagonal spire of the church of Saint Augustine, I saw swifts dipping and soaring around its campanile (bell tower), their high-pitched chorus accompanying a graceful aerial ballet. The house itself had stood virtually abandoned for a hundred years and was in a severe state of neglect, but looking at the Sibillini mountains, I was spellbound.’

The author’s eagerness in her quest to buy and rebuild the house is significant. Not just her sensuous descriptions of a promised, tranquil and simpler way of life, but the solace after an unforeseen family tragedy and an opportunity to regain stability and control when life unravels unexpectedly. The transportative power of literature is no more evident than in this romantic and captivating view of life in Amandola. Antonio, the farmer who came to tame the garden, the two elderly sisters who lived in houses overlooking the main square, Luigi the road sweeper who broke into opera singing when the mood took him, Oreste, an amiable relative of the original owners of the local hotel, Hotel Paradiso and his mother, sharing meals in front of a glowing hearth in the winter months, and colourful characters of people who used to live there like Ninetta, a fortune teller who read cards and interpreted dreams. The author’s love affair with her surroundings and their history is clearly evident.

As the author rolls up her sleeves and embraces the challenge of renovating the house, there are some wonderfully descriptive and humorous anecdotes, such as the unexploded World War II bomb that she found in one of the upstairs rooms.

‘Over time, the saga of the bomb passed into local lore, and I was sometimes jokingly referred to as ‘la signora della bomba,’ as if hiding an underworld connection. With hindsight, the discovery of the explosive device feels more like a premonition of grave events which were to follow.’

The renovations revealed a surprising cache. A wooden crate of statues, oil paintings and an assortment of books and papers. A journal belonging to Don Federico Bellesi, a shoebox of postcards and letters from 1899 to 1915 and an old map. This discovery leads the author to a painstaking search to uncover more about the life of the person, a priest who had lived in the house. Who was he, and why were all these things left in the house? All these things get set aside as daily work life takes over and the author is posted abroad to report on foreign affairs, but the priest is never far from her thoughts.

The author explores the idea that a life can be “ingrained in the very foundations of the homes they inhabited.” Homes are seen as places where people become who they are, reflecting their inner world, values, and sense of self. Does a home absorb the stories, routines and atmosphere of its inhabitants? Do we leave anything behind when we die? All of the physical things we keep in the house, photographs, pictures, diaries and letters serve as external receptacles for personal history, identity, and relationships, turning a physical structure of a house into a “home which is why people feel a powerful emotional connection to their living spaces. This is such an intriguing concept.

The restoration of the house took five years and the author points out, ‘it was not without difficulties. Not least the discovery that the temperamental plumber I used had worked as a barman, a position for which he was, hopefully, better suited. He seemed to know little about laying pipes.’

The story moves on to its most poignant part. When you have lived through an earthquake, the date, the time and the duration are ingrained in your memory. A series of major earthquakes struck Central Italy between the Marche and Umbria regions in October 2016. The telephone calls between the author, stuck in London and her neighbours in Amandola were frantic and distressing. The first-hand accounts of what happened are harrowing to read.

‘The trees seemed to be dancing around us. Everything was shaking violently. We were sure it was the end. It’s a disaster…. I’ve seen hell.’

The author’s house is declared uninhabitable, and a formal eviction notice is pinned on the door. What follows is distressing and traumatic. More tremors and bad weather meant many who remained in their houses were trapped. Snow brought down trees. Power lines were cut, and thousands plunged into darkness. From my own experience, the emergency services and the military services were mobilised very quickly to assist. People, alive or dead, are pulled from under the rubble, but that’s not the end. It’s only the beginning.

‘One office worker in a neighbouring town left a letter for his brother saying his damaged home was so full of memories and affection that, when forced to leave it, he could no longer smile. ‘All became darkness’, he wrote before returning to the cellar of the condemned building with a rope.’

Again, the author discusses what homes mean to people. The psychology of home is far richer than most people realise. Psychologically, we are wired for place. We are embodied creatures. We develop our memories in relation to our environments. It’s about more than comfort. It’s about identity and security. A sense of self that extends beyond our own skin. The concept of “place attachment”—a field of research within environmental psychology—explores how emotional bonds form between people and physical spaces. And those bonds can become so central to our inner world that the loss of a home, even if it’s just symbolic, can register in the nervous system as grief. Not only that, if there is one place where you feel safe, it’s your home. During an earthquake, your home becomes your enemy. Falling objects, flying debris and heavy items toppling over, and potential structural collapse.

In the following months, the author turns her attention to the ‘box of secrets, abandoned a century ago in her attic. The story moves on, and the author turns investigator. Who was Don Federico Bellesi? There were more than fifty letters and postcards in the thick bundle of correspondence. Letters that were intimate time capsules, revealing deep insights into daily life, social etiquette, and personal emotions. How could she not want to read and understand the people who wrote them? She delves into archives, explores reference books, studies newspaper reports and meets the living descendants of those who were connected to the house. This is where the story takes on a new dimension and theme.

‘So, presented now with the century-old collection of letters and journals spread before me, I saw them as a collection of mere memorabilia. Perhaps this was a legacy Don Federico, too, might have intended would one day be found.’

The treasure in the collection is a map, a frail tissue-thin piece of paper dated 1914 containing two place names in Sicily and the handwritten word – ‘Terremoto’. (earthquake) Why would a priest from Amandola have such a map? The investigator becomes the explorer and the adventurer. While her home is being repaired, she explores seminaries and small towns in the Le Marche region and visits Sicily. She is not alone. Don Federico is her silent companion, guiding her on this journey, not only to piece together his life story but also hers, to peel back the layers of her emotions, seeking understanding and solace in her memories. When she receives the unsettling diagnosis of a heart murmur, which she refers to as her ‘fault line,’ she is reminded of the fragility of life.

Why I recommend this book

It intertwines philosophical reflections, historical narratives, travel experiences, and even ghostly tales, all while offering a powerful testament to human resilience in the face of natural disasters. The blend of contemporary and historical events, all wrapped up in a personal touch, brings the area and its people to life in a way that’s easy to enjoy and understand. It delivers passion, enthusiasm, humour, heartbreak and hope and asks how we can navigate love and loss with courage in the face of uncertainty.

It is a book about Italy, and as such offers an immersive escape into a culture deeply rooted in rich history, art, and “dolce vita” lifestyle. Yes, with a glass of wine in hand, the allure of the Italian countryside unfurls around you, but this is not the Hollywood version of a new life as in Under the Tuscan Sun. This is a raw, honest account of renovating a property, which takes years and then gets hit by an earthquake. The author shares her thoughts on how we all handle life’s ups and downs, especially when it comes to the ever-changing world around us.

It is elegant, precise, and evocative prose that transforms the reading experience into art, often making the reader pause to reflect. Her words and thoughts flow effortlessly, providing a distinct voice that creates an immersive, unforgettable experience.

This book resonates with me emotionally as someone who purchased their own property in Abruzzo twenty-four hours after the L’Aquila earthquake in 2009, as mentioned by the author and triggers a genuine response in me of both sadness and optimism for the future.

AUTHOR BIO:

Christine Toomey is an award-winning journalist and author. A foreign correspondent and feature writer for the Sunday Times for more than twenty years, she was previously based as a correspondent in Mexico City, Paris, Berlin and now London and has reported from over 60 countries worldwide. Her journalism has been syndicated globally, and she has twice won Amnesty International Awards for Magazine Story of the Year.

https://www.christinetoomey.com/

BOOK BLURB:

Published March 2023 by Weidenfeld & Nicolson

Paperback available on Amazon

 

OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR:

In Her Own Words: Second Edition: The After-Death Journal of Princess Diana

The Saffron Road: A Journey with Buddha's Daughters

Two Sides of the Moon

 

 

 

 

“That life is fragile, yet in that fragility, there is strength. There is love. There is purpose. It reminds us that life is short, that our breaths are numbered and our destiny is fixed, regardless of how hard we fight.”

— Tillie Cole