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Thin Paths: Journeys in and around an Italian Mountain Village Hardcover – 7 July 2011
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You come across the shell of a ruined house. It could be anywhere in southern Europe where people once lived and then moved away because there was no work to hold them there. You might find things scattered in the empty rooms: a bread oven, a broken spade, earthenware jars that still hold the pungent scent of olive oil; even clothes left hanging in a cupboard, a silent clock on a shelf, a picture cut from a newspaper pinned on a wall.
The house is remote, but it is surrounded by a tracery of thin paths. One path goes steeply down to a village; others zigzag their way to scattered huts and stone shelters, to caves where you could hide in times of danger and to unexpected lookout points from where you could watch the approach of animals or human intruders.
Julia Blackburn and her husband moved to a little house in the mountains of northern Italy in 1999. She arrived as a stranger speaking no Italian, but a series of events brought her close to the old people of the village. They began to tell her stories that made the landscape come alive, repopulating it with their vivid memories. Until quite recently most of them had been mezzadri, half-people who were trapped in an archaic feudal system and owned by a local padrone who demanded his share of all they had - even a pretty wife or daughter. They were eager to talk about the old way of life and about how everything changed with the eruption of the Second World War. This village was at the heart of the conflict between the fascists and the partisans, so they learnt a lot about death and fear and hunger and how men and women could hide like foxes in the mountains. 'Write it down for us,' they said, 'because otherwise it will all be lost.'
Thin Paths is a celebration of the songlines of one place that could be many places; it is also a celebration of the humour and determination of the human spirit.
- Print length272 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherJonathan Cape
- Publication date7 July 2011
- Dimensions17 x 2.5 x 21.6 cm
- ISBN-100224090682
- ISBN-13978-0224090681
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Thin Paths: Journeys in and around an Italian Mountain VillageHardcover
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My book of the year. Beautiful, beguiling, memorable. ― Edmund de Waal
Impossible to forget...beautiful and deeply humane. ― Sunday Times
Reading Julia Blackburn's account of her life in a remote corner of the Ligurian mountains is like lifting a stone to find a strange, intricate, hidden world...prose that is ruthlessly unsentimental, but full of love. -- Maggie Fergusson ― Intelligent Life
A beautiful and unusual exploration of a strange landscape and forgotten lives in a remote Italian region that captivated us all. -- Sue Baker, Peter Donaldson and Flora Fraser ― Costa Book Awards 2011 judging panel
About the Author
Product details
- Publisher : Jonathan Cape (7 July 2011)
- Language : English
- Hardcover : 272 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0224090682
- ISBN-13 : 978-0224090681
- Dimensions : 17 x 2.5 x 21.6 cm
- Best Sellers Rank: 706,691 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- 412 in Italian Historical Biographies
- 1,317 in History of Italy
- 6,840 in Travel Writing (Books)
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To be clear: the author has performed a real service in talking with the old people she met and recording their stories so generously revealed to her. They show a world of poverty, toil and hardship that had changed little in centuries - a world shaped by mountain geography and stone-hearted landlords. It is a way of life now more or less vanished, the clues to which are rapidly disappearing as the older generation dies, the young leave for more benign surroundings, and the old houses are abandoned. Many of the old people remaining are scarred by terrible things seen in the war and the impossible choices that had to be made. The pace of change since the 1950s has been extraordinary. In one mountain village I know quite well in the north Apennines (about 150 kms east of the author's site), when I first stayed in the 1960s, people would keep the milk cows on the ground floor of the farmhouse and would bring hay and wood down from the mountains on wooden sledges drawn by oxen. Now, nobody keeps livestock (except chickens), tractors work the tiny fields, the number of shiny 4 x 4s seems to increase every year while the number of inhabitants declines year by year. The old woodsmen have retired, bent and battered from their labours, and most younger people commute down to the plains to work, or have moved there.
The irritations? It's a bit frustrating not to be told more about present life in the area; occasional comments about foreigners and other second home owners diminish the impression given of untouched remoteness. Then there are the zoological inaccuracies, which might be trivial in themselves but make me wonder how accurate other statements are. For example, on p55, the author describes how her dog caught a "peregrine falcon" by the wingtip, and the bird watched her "with a yellow eye"; but this leaves me confused because peregrines (and other falcons) have dark eyes, not yellow, and the most likely yellow-eyed raptor would have been a sparrowhawk. So when she says (p13) that she became able to identify eagles and peregrines, the reader actually doesn't know what species she was seeing. Page 68, there's a section headed "Reptiles", which is all about toads and salamanders, which of course are not reptiles at all but amphibians. I suppose an author might be forgiven a gap or two in their general knowledge, but don't editors know anything these days, or don't they edit any more? Then there is all the reported speech of the author's friends and informants: it would have been good to know if these written down verbatim, or the conversations recorded, or 're-created' later. But that's enough on the irritations (which only confirm my status as a boring old ----).
This is fundamentally a sincere, fascinating, moving and valuable account that gives some flavour of how life used to be in these north Italian mountains a generation or two ago: hard and simple beyond the imagining of most 21st century city dwellers. Anyone wanting a more academic perspective on society and culture in Italian mountains might find "Long Live the Strong" by Roland Sarti or "Fate and Honor, Family and Village" by Rudolph M. Bell of interest; then, for a less academic approach, there's always Eric Newby's very entertaining "Love and War in the Apennines".
This is a sort of travel book, in that it is about a particular area and its fairly recent history, but what gives the book its charm is the author's somewhat meandering conversations with her neighbours about their everyday lives, past and present. They are mostly old – some very old -- for all the young people have left the privations of life in the mountainous region for homes and jobs further down the valley.
Julia Blackburn must have language skills of a high order -- not to mention stellar homesteading abilities and considerable charm -- to have settled in a remote ruined house and got herself accepted by her neighbours. Most of these elderly Italians in fact speak Italian as a second language to a variety of fast-disappearing dialects. Just to follow their basic conversation, never mind become firm friends, is a substantial achievement, given that Blackburn was not even fluent in formal Italian when she arrived.
The hard life of these mountain people, shepherds and serfs (yes, feudal serfs in many cases), was made especially difficult during and just after WW2, which they mostly seem to have approached from a practical rather than a political point of view. The area was a stronghold of the partisans -- as much of Liguria was -- which meant that the local population came in for a particularly hard time from the German occupying forces. The period immediately following the cessation of hostilities was also characterised by the settling of old scores, which affected several of Blackburn's neighbours deeply to the present day.
I found this book easy to dip into, and I always found myself reading on later than I had intended, though it is a gentle rather than a gripping narrative. It is hard to describe and impossible to categorise. But read it. Do read it.
A melange of travel book and memoir, Thin Paths is an enjoyable read. The sub-title ‘Journeys in and around an Italian Mountain Village’ appropriately excludes reference to the seeing-eye author, whose ‘rescuing’ of a life that is being swiftly outmoded gives a melancholy tinge to these tales of persistence and occasionally derring-do. The smooth transitions between past and present are well handled: the anecdotal stories of real people, many of whom are now in their nineties form that vital link.
Julia’s partner Herman is for the most part kept hidden, and his long visit to Amsterdam for cancer treatment that must have been traumatic is deliberately underplayed. The author is too preoccupied with studying the flora and fauna and of unlocking the peasant life that is gone and lost for ever. She has a snatching eye that seizes on fragments, some of which are caught on camera, which reveal the mutability of this isolated community. In a section entitled ‘Fragility’ she picks up a bit of a tombstone and takes it home: The stone was heavy and its rough edges bit into the palm of my hands. I found a place to prop it at the back of the water tank. Reflected in the water, the sunlight flickered on the surface of the marble. The shadow of maidenhair ferns flickered across it and shuddered in the wind.
If you have read the author’s previous memoir of her horrendous upbringing, The Three of Us, you will understand her need to find peace and tranquillity in the remoter areas of Liguria. Deadly snakes and cat-eating peasants are as nothing in comparison. Nature is predictable and observable, while the human heart remains a dark mystery.


