Introduction to 'A Green Existence'
Tuscany is a land that for centuries has inspired a countless number of artists; the beauty of its environment comprising of enchanting rolling hills; thick forests; charming hilltop villages and breathtaking views are the obvious answer for so much attraction. If one picks up a local phone book and starts leafing through the directories it’s easy to note the bounty of Northern European names that have decided to make Tuscany their home. One of the latest arrivals is a young Englishman called Jonathan Radford who’s story is different than most of his fellow countrymen that were attracted by the magical atmosphere of Tuscany . In fact Jonathan’s story is unique, the impression one will get by reading the book was that it wasn’t so much his choice to live here but vice versa it seems more like as if it was Tuscany in person that in some way invited Jonathan over so to be able to acquire his natural skills to maintain and to extol our beautiful environment; in fact after various experiences working in numerous gardens throughout Europe Jonathan landed almost by chance in some remote and forgotten area of our region. For this reason I was rather intrigued by Jonathan’s story and thus after the experience matured by self producing my book ‘Too Much Tuscan Sun’ decided to do the same with ‘A Green Existence’ convinced of the success that this ‘opera prima’ can reach . If just years ago someone would have predicted that I would have written a book and that in no time I would have become some sort of celebrity I would have considered my interlocutor insane , drunk or maybe just a disillusioned optimist , why not then try again with this one?
One day I received a call from an enthusiastic American couple
who had read ‘Too Much Tuscan Sun’ and that wanted to spend a day
touring with me and so on a beautiful November morning I picked them up in their
hotel and we spent a memorable day driving through the Chianti hills stopping
frequently to visit castles, Etruscan tombs, medieval hamlets and obviously
wineries. After a mammoth lunch I left them at the bus terminal in Siena as
settled, it was getting dark and when we said goodbye I crossed the road and
decided to go for a quick stroll through the main street in Siena. I walked
in front of an Irish pub and after having passed it I heard a mysterious call
echoing in my head “Dario, Dario, how about a Guinness? Its time you had
a Guinness…..” As I always find it difficult to ignore certain recalls
my heels turned automatically 360 degrees, I pushed the hard wood door open,
walked straight to the counter, ordered and after a few minutes I found myself
comfortably sipping a pint. After the black stout reached my stomach I felt
the necessity
for a smoke , I put my hand in my pocket, searched and found an old dry fag
waiting
miserably on its own floating miraculously intact in my inner pocket. I placed
it in between my lips and asked the person sitting next to me if he had a light.
This time it was his turn to place his right hand in his pocket and in no time
produced a cheap light blue plastic lighter which he said I could keep. We exchanged
a few words, “good Italian “I pointed out, “I’ve been
living in Italy for a while “was his reply He looked very English, his
movements, his gestures and the way he was dressed with a rather elegant tweed
jacket and matching trousers and a bonnet neatly folded in his pocket echoed
the image of a rather researched English country gentleman. I told him that
I had lived a few years of my childhood in England which explained my slight
British accent, at that point he interrupted me suddenly “Are you Dario
by any chance ?” his eyes enlightening in disbelief and at the same time
producing my book from his leather briefcase from the stool behind him. He had
apparently just finished reading my book in the pub and was thinking in that
very moment that he would have liked to meet me some day... his wish had been
satisfied within seconds. I found this to be an incredible coincidence and obviously
a beer called another and we started talking about our lives, then about memorable
“sbornie” and inevitably our chat degenerated into all different
types of topics from politics to music and facts about our private lives. The
feeling between us was more than positive and so we decided to meet again the
following day for a pizza. This time Jonathan brought along with him his manuscript
and asked if I was willing to read it without any particular pretensions. I
read it weeks later comfortably taking in the sun on a beach in the south of
Spain . I was immediately positively impressed by Jonathans descriptions about
his life entirely spent working in gardens and following his heart beginning
in England, then in Spain, France and finally in Italy where he started off
in the Alps and gradually worked his way down ending in southern Tuscany. A
Green Existence is not just a simple autobiography but an evidence of a rather
incredible attachment to mother nature, its certainly not the usual report written
by some rich expat that moved to Tuscany to enjoy his retirement in his luxurious
getaway place and of which we have all read about in the bounty of light-hearted
memoirs published in recent years.
A Green Existence is on the contrary a book about a young man who almost accidentally moved to Tuscany and where one can capture reading in between lines the hard life and sufferings of his existence, it’s also an evidence of solitude of an entire generation exposed with a delicate poetic and melancholic touch... Jonathan in a certain way represents a type of person that is probably today sadly getting close to extinction, the enthusiasm he has in planting, pruning, cutting and doing all the chores necessary to get gardens alive are for him his daily bread and can be viewed as like a mission to make our dull computer world look more colourful and cheerful.
At the end of this book one will get to know Jonathan better and will realize that according to his philosophy and beliefs our encounter and consequent solid friendship were by no means just a simple coincidence, on the contrary………
Dario Castagno