About Siena

[smokingboot]

Well, yes, it's undoubtedly beautiful; the main square is a pretty scallop shape, the buildings capture your eye, and the town is full of art and legend; here Remus' children grew strong, proud against Rome and Florence both, and the twins' lupercal fostermother is the city's symbol. She-wolves and Madonnas are to be found everywhere, though alas! seldom in the same painting (would have made a nice change) nor did we lack the company of dead people, or bits of them at least.

I tried to understand the idea of holy relics, but between you and me, Tuscany seems to have been a dangerous place for saints; one miracle and the moment you died bits of your body would be pruned, stuffed into a reliquary and placed somewhere you could be extolled at forever. We mused on the terrifying result had Frankenstein got Vatican approval for his experiments, and tried to fuse together the limbs, legs, fingers, vertebrae, pelvises etc of the many Saints to be found in splinters throughout the city. The result may well have been some terrifying uber-saint, starting off with good intentions but in the end smashing its way through downtown Tokyo. It would undoubtedly have been crowned with the most treasured article in the Dominican church of St Catherine of Siena; that good lady's head.

The head sits in a little case, glass at the front, so you can just make it out; it has been preserved or mummified or something, and the eyes seem terribly small and sunken. Nearby can be found one of her thumbs and the whip with which she flagellated herself 'for the sins of mankind'. There is no desire in me to mock this lady, or those who find comfort in praying to the head - I saw one such believer kneel and pray - each to their own. Having read some of Catherine's letters I can see how she would be an inspiration and a hope to many. Still, to me it was an alarming thing; I found myself having dreams of my little tomcat, and his eyes were too small, sunk back in his head, just like hers.

No, the town was at its exuberant best from the top of the belltower, where you could watch the swifts (swallows?) loop and wheel over the terracotta rooftops, sweeping so close it made you think of stylish early 60s cat burglars leaping from house to house with no problem at all. Those birds were full of life and joy; in all the city of the she-wolf, I saw nothing more abundantly beautiful.