SErafina grew up with grandmother Silva who introduced her to the breathing sanctuaries, small mountain churches where stillborn children are brought in the hope that they will exhale a single breath to be baptized. We are in Friuli at the beginning of the twentieth century, Serafina is an independent womanpassionate about engineering, lives alone but is revered by the whole village because one day she saved Nicola, a cyanotic newborn brought back to life. And so the woman is called at every complicated birth, symbol of a tradition that embraces superstition and faith.
In 1944, a Cossack contingent (Russians from the Don plains) in the pay of the Germans arrived in Carnia to quell the resistance of the partisans. A forced coexistence with the local inhabitants begins, amidst violence, looting and timid attempts at integration. Serafina has to make her miserable house available, she feels trapped until she receives an unexpected gift that alleviates the wounds of the past and the secret she keeps.
In And it’s a little bit of night and a little bit of dawn Ilaria Tutibestselling author of the novels of Teresa Battagliatranslated into twenty countries, brings to light this little-known episode that intertwines the history and individual destiny of the characters, telling the lights and shadows of those who invade and those who are invaded, because “with good will it is always possible to find a reflection of oneself in the other”.
Ilaria Tuti is the author of books featuring Commissioner Teresa Battaglia and many others of historical inspiration. With “Come vento sewed to the earth” he won the 2022 iO Donna Award. (photo by Luigi Cozzarin)
What does the title of the novel refer to?
It is a verse by Pierluigi Cappello that talks about Friuli, the agricultural one before the ’76 earthquake. It was an archaic society that had spaces of darkness but also flashes of light given by the solid values of the time. The “night” can also be an internal night, while “the dawn” can indicate a transformation, a hope.
As in other novels, he tells us about a forgotten historical event, the occupation of the Russians from the Don in Friuli which lasted a few months. How did you come across it?
It was a fact that was little investigated because we were in a hurry to forget, there are very minimal physical traces of their passage. I don’t remember exactly, but I was a little girl when I first read about it. For the book I studied all the existing testimonies and I thank the people who left them because without them I would never have been able to write this story.
“And it’s a little bit of night and a little bit of dawn” by Ilaria Tuti (Longanesi, 320 pages, 22 euros).
Has the conflict in Ukraine changed your perspective on the historical story it tells?
The comparison with today and with the same themes of loss and threat was inevitable. I wondered if it was appropriate to go back to these facts but I think so. We were convinced that we would never have wars in Europe again and we were wrong. Remembering the past is necessary, there is always the danger of forgetting.
What are breath sanctuaries?
They were very common in the 1600s when the Church’s doctrine introduced limbo. People were terrified of stillborn babies being trapped there. It was said that the Madonna of Trava, in Friuli, had resurrected a newborn baby and so mothers and fathers, with the little bodies of their children, even came from very far away hoping for a miracle and defying the Inquisition.
Serafina is independent, rebellious and used to moving in a predominantly male world. These are characteristics that often return in your protagonists: what attracts you to these women?
They are characters who are not well in their time and are looking for evolution. Serafina elbows her way to find space and is divided in two because her roots are linked to a cult, that of the Madonna of Trava, which she doesn’t actually believe in, but she feels she belongs to the future. I am fascinated by liminal figures, suspended between reason and the supernatural.
Motherhood is also a recurring theme…
I like to investigate it in all its forms. Here I was interested in telling how one gave birth and became a mother in wartime, when there was an archaic bond between women and midwives and being pregnant was not considered a fragility, people worked until the day of birth. They gave birth in the ashes, because it was aseptic, or squatting like the Cossacks. The medicalisation and hospitalization of childbirth, from the 1960s onwards, have crumbled this community space.
She alternates historical novels with detective stories (like the series starring Commissioner Teresa Battaglia). Which one are you most comfortable with?
When I write I respond to an impulse. The historical novel is more satisfying due to its freedom of expression, in a detective story everything must be functional to the events. I like change. I’m missing Teresa Battaglia, but to bring her back I have to find a suitable story (she suffers from Alzheimer’s, ed) that respects her as a character.