Only Connect

How to Be Both by Ali Smith

(Hamish Hamilton)

Pp. 371

This ambitious novel twists strands of tales together like the DNA double helix molecule that symbolises the story. The first half concerns Francesco del Cossa in an out of body experience – she may be dead, but she doesn’t remember dying; perhaps this is purgatory? She is drawn to a girl who is looking at her painting in an art gallery. The second half concerns George, the girl from the gallery, trying to cope with the death of her mother, Carol, who became obsessed with the unknown painter of frescoes in Ferrara, Italy and took her daughter there to see them in situ.

The halves of the novel are both numbered One; half of the books are printed with George’s story first and Francesco’s second. They can be read in either order because everything is connected, and all things overlap. Sitting in an Italian piazza and discussing the prevalence of over-painting images, George’s mother asks her, “Which came first? The chicken or the egg? The picture underneath or the picture on the surface?” George says the picture underneath, of course. “But the first thing we see, her mother said, and most times the only thing we see, is the one on the surface. So does that mean it comes first after all? And does that mean the other picture, if we don’t know about it, may as well not exist?”

These palimpsests become a metaphor for life. Francesco is really a girl, but disguised as a boy so that she can have a career as an artist. Pictures record things past their death; they capture immortality. Carol was an art activist, “It was her job to subvert political things with art things, and to subvert art things with political things.”

After her mother’s death, George feels as though her life has been split into two entirely separate halves. “That before and after thing is about mourning, is what people keep saying.” She discovers a woman with whom Carol had a relationship, and George stalks and photographs her every day. She recalls how her mother used to think she was being spied upon and ‘Minotaur-ed’; was she just being paranoid? Or is this the self-enveloping effect of time’s continuum? Both art and surveillance involve watching and being watched, and there is always more going on than meets the eye. Carol taught George, “Nothing’s not connected. And we don’t live on a flat surface.” History is ever-present and the weight of all this connectivity can be oppressive.

The novel is a complex work of meaning and metaphor: a classic story of love and loss, told in a fresh and modern way. Both genre and gender bending, this is a work of parallel universes, palimpsests, fluid time and space, paranoia and mystery – almost too clever by half, and certainly challenging, but definitely memorable.

Florentine Sights

Him Outdoors has a culture limit, so I have to choose my sights wisely. On my last visit to Florence (about 20 years ago) I went to the Uffizi and the Galleria dell'Academia so on today's touring, I visited some different haunts.

Galleria Michelangiolo
The Leonardo da Vinci exhibit features machines reproduced and built to the specifications in his codices. There are prototypes for bicycles, helicopters and hangliders, diving bells and military equipment.

Wanting to please his investors he sketched improvements on cannons and catapults although his own feelings about war were far from favourable. There are hammers and cogs and hydraulic lifts; he is a forerunner of Mr. Otis, working out a safety cog that would prevent weights from falling back as they were being hoisted up.

He was an illegitimate child with no prospects (so a History Channel documentary intoned) and he made his name by sucking up to potential wealthy patrons, such as the Medici family – with works after being accepted as an apprentice at Verrucchio’s workshop. Many of his most fanciful and innovative designs centre on the enigma of flight, which fascinated him, and a whole room is dedicated to his airy creations.

His greatest notable achievement was to design the system of pulleys and cranes for lifting heavy objects that enabled the golden globe to be placed atop the duomo. Hence, despite secret accusations of sodomy – which caused him to be taken away and ‘questioned’ in the dead of night – he was to become Florence’s favourite son.

Museo del Bargello

This is apparently ‘Italy’s most comprehensive collection of Tuscan Renaissance sculpture.’ Danti, Cellini, Michelangelo, Donatello and Giambologna are among the weighty names represented. In many cases one of the ‘names’ would make a sculpture of someone or something, and then another ‘name’ would do one of the same thing so there are multiple versions of mythical figures all over Florence.

The building was originally the residence of the chief magistrate, then it was a police station complete with torture equipment and the city’s gallows. Now it houses many ancient statues in marble, sandstone and bronze, plus casts and models in wax, terracotta and plaster cast copies.

These statues are about 500 years old and the productivity of some of the sculptors is incredible, especially when you consider they were also busy fighting teenage mutant ninja turtle crimes.

I especially like Danti’s Beheading of John the Baptist. It’s massive and the configuration of the three bronze figures is remarkable. This used to be outside the baptistery but has been removed and placed in here for safekeeping.

I also like Michelangelo’s drunken Bacchus, although his patrons didn’t and they refused to accept the work. With his unsteady gait and unfocused expression, he looks exactly like many a reveller I have seen down the pub on a Friday night. Except with fewer clothes.

There is a fantastic work of Jason (complete with golden fleece), by Peter Francavilla, Donatello’s St George, and Giambologna’s beautiful bronze bird sculptures and fabulous Winged Mercury. I also like Vincenzo Gemito’s bronze statue of a fisher boy.


Donatello’s David is a counterpoint to Michelangelo’s arguably more famous one. They are too different for me to pick a favourite.

Many sculptors depicted their patron, Cosimo I de Medici, usually kitted out in gladiatorial attire and sitting mightily astride a powerful steed – clearly they knew which side their panini was buttered.

I race through the rooms of Persian rugs, ivory carvings, iconic paintings of Madonna and child, and painted ceramics – all are wonderful I am sure, but they are not my thing. My attention is definitely diverted by the statues, and I prefer those of classic and mythological leanings rather than the saints, crucifixions and madonnas.

Cathedral Maria del Fiore

Built to supercede those of rivals in Siena and Pisa, this is free to enter (as long as legs and shoulders are covered) although you have to pay to go up into the duomo or down into the crypt, so we don’t.
Despite the stained glass windows (by Donatello, Andrea del Castagno, Paolo Uccello and Lorenzo Ghiberti) and the awesome (and I really do mean that in it’s true sense) frescoes on the dome, the interior of the cathedral is strangely unadorned compared with the fabulous façade.