We -- well, I, with the Other Tern gamely flying along for the ride -- have been following in the footsteps of writer Giovanni Verga (1840-1922).

He was born in Catania, and although he lived in Florence and Milan for a while, he returned to Catania in the early 1890s, and that was where he died.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew about him already, but I'd forgotten his name until our D.H. Lawrence-related meanderings brought him into the foreground again. Lawrence had been interested in Verga at least since 1916. He seems to have felt a sort of empathy for the Sicilian author, whose ability to write such powerful work Lawrence attributes to the profound link between Verga and his homeland.

It was during his Taormina stay, in 1921, that D.H. mentions, in a letter, the idea of translating Verga: "He exercises quite a fascination on me... His language is so fascinating." At first he demurs, writing in another letter: "He would be most awfully difficult to translate... Probably I shall never do it. Though if I don't, I doubt anyone else will -- adequately at least." Good old Lawrence, modest to the last...

Anyway, he did start translating Verga, and the three books that made their appearance in the years that followed were the novel Mastro-Don Gesualdo, and two collections of short stories. (I'll leave any discussion of the quality of the translation, about which opinions vary, to a subsequent Velvet Cushion post.)

My other Verga connection is Pietro Mascagni's opera Cavalleria rusticana, which is based on a story by Verga. The Intermezzo -- an absolutely beautiful piece that everyone knows even if they don't know where it comes from -- was one of the pieces in the all-time-greats classics collection that we had at home when I was a kid.

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We had bad luck at Verga's birthplace. His family had an apartment on the second floor of this 19th-century building, and Verga moved back here in later life. It's now a museum, but unfortunately, it's currently closed for renovations...



Not far away, though, is the Castello Ursino, which would have formed the backdrop to Verga's life in Catania:



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Yesterday, we headed north to Aci Trezza. It's easy enough to get a bus, from a stop quite close to our apartment. What proved a bit more challenging, however, was locating a tabacchi, which is the kind of shop where you generally buy bus tickets in Italy. We finally found one that was open, and bought our tickets (a ride costs just EUR 1 in Catania). But by then we were running dangerously out of time to actually catch the bus. As we emerged onto the road, we could see it coming up behind us. Run, Terns, run!

And we made it... Good to know we can still summon up a good tern of speed (arf, arf) when we need it...

Anyway, it's a nice little ride along the coast. And in Aci Trezza you can visit the Casa del Nespolo Museum (a nespolo is a medlar tree, and a medlar is a fruit that I don't know at all). The building dates back to the first half of the 19th century, and is the kind of place that would have housed the people in Verga's story about the Malavoglia family (in Italian it's just called I Malavoglia, or The Malavoglias, but in the English translation, the title is The House by the Medlar Tree, which explains the name of the museum). Not that these fisherfolk would have had a whole house at their disposal... Each family would have occupied just a room.

You're not allowed to take photos, but memory serves up memorabilia from the filming of Luchino Visconti's 1947 film The Earth Trembles (based on I Malavoglia), and photos from the curious swordfish ritual that is staged during the celebration of Saint John the Baptist on 24 June; an impressive conch (atmospherically sounded by our guide); traditional fishing equipment (and it's interesting how universal some of these things seem to be); an extensive collection of letters from Verga to his brothers; and a room kitted out approximately as it would have been in the days of Verga's characters (the bed would actually have been way too posh for such a family, but the little stove was typical, and would have served to heat the room, heat water, and dry clothes).

Footnote: At the end of the little tour, the guide -- a young guy, maybe in his early twenties -- asked us where we born. "The Isle of Man," I say, expecting to have to explain, as usual. "Oh," he says, "in Douglas or in Peel?" It turns out he's not only a Bee Gees' fan, but also a connoisseur of the products of Peel Engineering... Small world...




Aci Trezza is also notable for its lovely little port, and its vast array of lava formations... This is the so-called Cyclops Coast, and you can opt for the mythological explanations (giants throwing things) or the geological ones (basalt columns and the like). The walk along the coast to Aci Castello is very scenic:













Aci Castello takes its name from the Norman castle perched atop a dramatic rock:



The castle featured in a Verga work, The Stories of Trezza Castle, published in four parts in 1875: "Characterized by a dark atmosphere and Gothic suggestions, the work unfolds as a gripping mystery and differs markedly from Verga’s veristic style."

It's a very impressive structure:








Just to complete the record of this really pleasant day out, we had lunch at a nice, old-fashioned cafe where they still serve a glass of water with your coffee, and charge you very little for a big stuffed sandwich and a decadent rum baba:


The buses back to Catania aren't frequent, so we whiled away the best part of an hour in the sunny square by the war memorial:



An expedition worth celebrating with a local beer in the evening:


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And, finally, this morning. This is our last day in Catania, and -- as is often the case -- we're sorry to be moving on. I've wanted to stay longer pretty much everywhere on this trip, but Catania would especially repay a more leisurely stay, I think.

If I were here for a few weeks, I would make more use of the very extensive markets, and set up a routine of church visiting (there are many, many churches...), and sound out more of the smaller cafes (such as Caffe Costa, which we visited twice, impressed by its tasty arancini and its good prices). And I would trundle up and down the coast a bit more, popping in at the smaller places.

Anyway, that's not what we're doing. Later today, we're heading for Malta.

Just a tiny bit of time left, then, for just a tiny bit more Verga:





And here's Verga again, in the Bellini Gardens:


Lawrence writes in the introduction to Little Novels of Sicily (his translation of Verga's Novelle rusticane): "Most of the sketches are said to be drawn from actual life, from the village where Verga lived and from which his family originally came. The landscape will be more or less familiar to anyone who has gone in the train down the east coast of Sicily to Syracuse, past Etna and the Plains of Catania and the Riviere, the Lake of Lentini, on to the hills again. And anyone who has once known this land can never be quite free from the nostalgia for it, nor can he fail to fall under the spell of Verga's wonderful creation of it, at some point or other."

There's definitely some truth in that. Which is why I'm glad we're not finished with Sicily. After Malta, we won't be back in Catania, but we will be briefly back in the southeast corner of the island.