A Short* History of Conclave

Archbishop Piero Marini, 18 April 2005. © Reuters/Osservatore Romano

*Disclaimer: Despite the title, this post is not short.

This Tuesday afternoon (5 March 2012), around 1:15, the Sistine Chapel closed its doors to the public in preparation for conclave, which, although it has not been officially announced, is expected to begin early next week. (Side note: how cool would it be if the new pope were elected on the Ides of March? I'm mean, we've had enough omens since the Artist Formerly Known as Pope Benedict XVI announced his impending resignation, what's one more?)

But before conclave begins, before I go into what exactly it entails, and who the biggest contenders are, I'd like to delve into the history of this sacred ritual. I have always been fascinated with conclave. It's such a mysterious and secretive rite, dating back so many centuries, it makes the history-lover in me tingle with glee. Plus, it takes place in the Sistine Chapel. It is an understatement so say I have spent a lot of time in the Sistine Chapel. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that I have been inside its sacred and gloriously frescoed walls at least 500 times (not nearly as many as the maritino though, I must reluctantly admit).

Sistine Chapel

Everyone knows that popes are elected inside that spectacular chapel in the Vatican, but exactly how long has that tradition been around? The chapel itself was built only in the late 15th century, and we've had Popes in Rome the time of St. Peter. Where was conclave held before 1481, when the structure of the chapel was completed? And once conclave moved to the chapel, was it always held there? The answers will probably surprise you.

Although the title of this post contains the word "short," I have a feeling it is going to be something a challenge to adhere to it, what with nearly 2000 years of history to cover. To avoid going into the history of the papacy itself (although that would be a fun--for me, probably not you--and challenging undertaking and I hope to attempt it soon), I will brush over the first millennium entirely, because during that time, papal elections did not exist. The pope was chosen by various means, sometimes entirely secular, such as by appointment of the Holy Roman Emperor. It wasn't until 1059, when Pope Nicholas II issued the papal bull In nomine Domini, that an election by cardinals was established.

The very first pope to be chosen by a college of cardinal-electors was Nicholas II's successor, Pope Alexander II. The election took place in the church of San Pietro in Vincoli in 1061. But although it was an election, and although a pope was made, it was not, technically, a conclave. The word conclave, as many of you are surely aware, comes from the Latin cum clave, "with key." In fact, the first true conclave wouldn't take place for another two hundred years.

During the 12th and 13th centuries, papal elections were held in a slew of different locations, including over half a dozen churches in Rome, from St John's in Lateran to the old St. Peter's, a Benedictine monastery on the Palatine Hill, the Septizodium (before it was practically raised to the ground by Sixtus V), an Abbey in France, and the cities of Terracina, Naples, Verona, Pisa, Perugia, Ferrara, and of course, Viterbo. It was the general practice to elect the new pope wherever the previous pope had died.

Palazzo dei Papi, Viterbo

Some of these elections were less than efficient. The election of 1261 dragged on nearly three months, that of 1264 for five, but by far the biggest debacle in papal election history (perhaps even worse that last week's catastrophic Italian parliamentary election), occurred upon the death of Pope Clement IV in 1268. The election began in November of that year in the Palace of the Popes in Viterbo, where the official seat of the papacy had moved during that time of instability in Rome. When, for political reasons, the cardinals were incapable of reaching an agreement, the election process dragged on for nearly three years. Two years in, the magistrates of Viterbo had locked the cardinals up in the palace, and put them on a ration of bread and water, in the hopes that it would hasten a decision. When even that didn't work, the roof of the hall in which they were convened was removed, supposedly in order to facilitate the Holy Spirit to descend upon the hapless cardinals.

The Longest Conclave in History

At long last, in September of 1271, Pope Gregory X was elected and the longest papal election (and technically, the first conclave) was at an end. Little wonder, after that fiasco, that the newly minted pope issued a papal bull, Ubi periculum, in 1274 that established new rules regarding the election, such as the sequestering of the cardinals and menu restrictions after a set number of days. Many of these rules are still in use today. 

Portrait of Gregory X, Sala del Conclave, Palazzo dei Papi, Viterbo.

Gregory's new conclave rules worked, and the next election in 1276 was wrapped up in an astonishing two days. Unfortunately the sensible rules were chucked out later that same year, and soon the old problems cropped up again, as you'll remember in the case of our friend Pope Celestine V. If one good thing did come out of the old hermit's papacy, it was the reinstatement of the conclave rules of Ubi periculum in 1294.

Still, just 15 years later, as a result of the conflict between the papacy and the French king, the seat of the papacy was moved to Avignon, France, and the following seven conclaves took place at the Palace of the Popes in that lovely Provencal city, each one producing a French pontiff. When the papacy was at last restored to Rome in 1376, and a conclave for the next pope occurred two years later, Roman citizens rioted, so strong was their fear that another Frenchman would ascend the throne of St. Peter and the court would be moved back to France. It's important to point out that the papal court was vital to the economy of Rome, for it brought pilgrims to the city, good for business for innkeepers, rosary-makers, tour guides, and sellers of all kinds of souvenirs (not much has changed there). Also, the presence of wealthy prelates and cardinals guaranteed work for the city's tailors, artists, skilled craftsmen like cabinet-makers and weavers, and, of course, prostitutes.

Palais du Papes, Avignon

In the end, under the pressure of the Roman populace, an Italian, Urban VI Prignano, was elected, the last time a non-cardinal became pope. Despite Urban’s Italian blood, he had such strong French sympathies that many of the cardinals who had elected him, regretting their decision, formed their own faction and elected an anti-pope. Thus began the great Western Schism that would divide the church for almost 40 years. Although the backstabbing and betrayal going on in the Vatican today, even as I write this, does not bode well for the future of the Catholic church, if it could survive the Western Schism (which eventually produced a second anti-pope in Pisa–so three popes in total were vying for power), it can survive anything.

All this chaos finally came to an end between 1415-17 during which time two anti-popes were deposed, the legitimate Pope Gregory XII was pressured to resign (some claim he, not Celestine V, was the last pope to resign before Benedict XVI, but considering the circumstances, I find it pointless to compare the two events), and Martin V Colonna was named pope in the Council of Constance. Every so often, anti-popes popped up, but none were taken too seriously. Martin V’s papacy not only marked the end of the Western Schism, but also the dawn of the Renaissance in Rome.

Habemus Papam, Election of Pope Martin V

Not until 1455 did it become the norm to hold conclave in the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican, beginning with the election of the first Borgia pope, Callisto III. Coincidentally, it is Callisto’s nephew, our favorite papal bad boy Alexander VI, who holds the honor of being the first pope to be elected in the Sistine Chapel, in 1492.

Freeze frame from Showtime's The Borgias

I'm sure it won't surprise you to hear that Alexander VI's election was one of the most infamous in history. If you've watched The Borgias, you've seen this portrayed, although getting history from a television drama might not be the most accurate route. Here's what Nigel Cawthorne, in his book Sex Lives of the Popes, has to say about it:

...Rodrigo used the promise of rich preferments and out-and-out bribery to win the election. Some cardinals wanted palaces; others castles, land, or money. Cardinal Orsini sold his vote for the castles of Monticelli and Sariani. Cardinal Ascanio Sforza wanted four mule-loads of silver and the lucrative chancellorship of the Church to secure his vote. Cardinal Colonna got the wealthy Abbey of St. Benedict... The Cardinal of St. Angelo wanted the bishopric of Porto... Cardinal Savelli was given the Civita Castellana. ... The clinching vote belonged to a Venetian monk. All he wanted was 5,000 crowns and a night with Rodrigo's daughter, the lovely twelve-year-old Lucrezia.

That is all pretty damning, although I will say this highly entertaining work of  "non-fiction" has no references of any kind, so take it with a grain of salt.

One would imagine that the Sistine Chapel, so connected in modern consciousness with conclave, remained the de facto location for papal elections from that year forward, but in fact, during the following four centuries, only a handful of conclaves are recorded to have taken place there.

In the 1540s, Michelangelo, whose work in the Sistine Chapel was already considered a masterpiece, was hired to fresco the walls of the Pauline Chapel, just a few steps away. This smaller and more intimate chapel, built for the by-then dead Pope Paul III Farnese, was considered more appropriate for the solemn task of electing the pastor of the Catholic church. Michelangelo’s most famous work in that chapel (unfortunately closed to the public) is the Crucifixion of St. Peter. The martyr lies against the cross, upside down as he is about to be crucified. With visual effort, he lifts his head up and cranes his neck to look down at the viewer. During a conclave, Peter could gaze into the eyes of each of the cardinal-electors, reminding them of their sacred duty: to elect the man who will fill his shoes and represent Christ on Earth. Still, only two conclaves have ever been held in the Pauline Chapel: that of 1549-50 that elected Julius III, and that of 1559 that elected Pius IV. 

Crucifixion of St. Peter, Michelangelo Buonarroti, Pauline Chapel, Apostolic Palace, Vatican

Apparently Peter’s stern gaze failed to elicit the appropriate gravitas for the situation at hand, at least in the case of Julius III’s election. This conclave became notorious for rampant bribery, the influence of the Holy Roman Emperor, and cardinals passing inside information to bankers who would then make bets on the election’s outcome. It was Pius IV, moving into the thick of the Counter Reformation, who finally re-established the conclave rules long abandoned by his predecessors, regarding seclusion, secrecy, and brevity.

Papal elections continued in various areas of the Apostolic Palace (sometimes the Sistine Chapel) without much incident (with the exception of the conclave of 1799-1800, which took place in Venice due to the threat of Napoleon) until 1823, when it was moved to the Quirinal Palace, the official residence of the popes during the 19th century. It took place in a chapel that, while in terms of artistic decoration is very different from the Sistine Chapel, is of the exact same dimensions. The Pauline Chapel in the Quirinale, not to be confused with Paul III’s Pauline Chapel in the Vatican, was commissioned by Pope Paul V Borghese, and its measurements are the same as the ancient temple of Solomon in Jerusalem, as laid out in the Old Testament (also the model for the Sistine Chapel).

Cappella Paolina, Palazzo Quirinale, Roma

After Rome was captured from the Papal States by the nine-year-old Kingdom of Italy in 1870,  during the papacy of Pius IX, the Quirinal Palace became the residence of the king, and conclave once again returned to the Sistine Chapel. Pope Leo XIII was elected there in 1878, as has every pope since. The election of Pope Pius X in 1903, was the last conclave that was openly influenced by a political leader outside the church. The favorite for pope, Leo XIII's former Secretary of State Cardinal Mariano Rampolla del Tindaro, was vetoed by the Prince-Bishop of Krakow in the name Emperor Francis Joseph of Austria, possibly because of Rampolla's support for the French Third Republic. This was considered scandalous by the cardinals present, but as the King of France, the King of Spain and the Emperor of Austria all had veto power by law, there was nothing they could do.

Pope Pius X Sarto

When eventually elected, Pius X (later to become a saint) took the opportunity to eliminate the power of veto of the heads of state. He went even further to warn that anyone attempting to introduce a veto into conclave would be immediately excommunicated. Since then, as part of the solemn vow  at the beginning of a conclave, all cardinal-electors must swear not to introduce a veto on behalf of a secular monarch. Pius X was the last pope to make major reforms of conclave, consolidating almost all of the previous rules set up by various popes throughout the centuries.

If you made it through this whole post (without falling asleep) I am seriously impressed. There were enough names and dates to make even the most avid history nerd's eyes glaze over. As you well know by now, if it didn't happen at least 100 years ago, I probably haven't heard about it yet. I humbly decline the post of up-to-the-minute correspondent during this exciting papal resignation/conclave period. Head to Patricia Thomas' delightful and informative blog, Mozzarella Mamma for all the breaking Vatican news. She's covering the conclave for the Associated Press, and attends press conferences with the Papal Spokesman, Father Lombardi, every day. If she isn't well informed, no one is. 

However, I will be on smoke watch from the moment conclave begins until those glorious words "Habemus Papam" ring out. Follow me on twitter (@ThePinesOfRome) where I will announce the very minute that white smoke billows so you can high-tail it to St. Peter's or, if you're a bit further away, switch on the telly. In the meantime, stay tuned for my next post, detailing the rituals and rules of conclave. 

I don't know about you, but after that, I need a cup of tea.

Image sources: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 by author, 6, 7, 8, 9 by author, 10, 11, 12

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A Pope's Last Stand: the final papal audience of Benedict XVI

Pope Benedict XVI's final audience, St. Peter's Square, 27 February 2013

On the night of the 1st of April 2005, barely six months after moving to Rome, I stood with my roommates in St. Peter’s Square, holding vigil with thousands of others for Pope John Paul II. It was the night before he died, and the last full day of his papacy.

Today, in strangely parallel yet contrasting circumstances, I stood in St. Peter’s Square on the last full day of Pope Benedict XVI’s papacy. As you can imagine, the mood in the crowd was completely different: lighthearted, affectionate, nostalgic perhaps, but without a trace of grief or fear. And no surprise why: no one had died.

"Holy Father, we love you"

On that April night back in 2005, the warm spring air was heavy with collective grief. Nuns from nearly every nation prayed the rosary, young couples cried into each other’s shoulders, Latin American students sang and lit candles. And everyone’s eyes were fixed upon the Pope’s window where his light shined on, late into the night. We all expected it to be snuffed out at any moment, signifying that John Paul had breathed his last, and we were ready for the inevitable wail that would rise up from the crowd. But the light was still burning when my friends and I made our way back home.

The next evening, John Paul did die, and we returned to the square once more. Strangely, the atmosphere was different. It was as if the oppressive grief of the night before had lifted, and been replaced with a sense of peace, a knowledge that the beloved pontiff was no longer in pain. The thousands of faithful seemed filled with a sense of quiet hope.

I took some poignant photos that I would love to share with you, but alas, they were lost when I accidentally smashed my external hard drive. (Major technology fail.) Ah well, at least I have the memories, which are surprisingly vivid.

Nearly eight years later, once again I got to witness the end of a papacy, albeit a much less painful end for many Catholics. But what was, for me, so thrilling about being there was the knowledge that I was witnessing history. After all, it has been over seven centuries since a pope has voluntarily resigned, and everyone is curious about how things will play out in the next few weeks as a conclave unlike any other (with the previous pope still alive) approaches.

Walking down Via della Lungara toward St. Peter's to see the pope's final appearance

As I left my apartment around 8:30 this morning, without realizing the significance of it, my feet led me along Via della Lungara, which was originally known as Via Sancta, since it led directly from Trastevere to the Vatican, and was a well-trod route for pilgrims heading to St. Peter's. It was an ancient Roman road that was enlarged, coincidentally, by our good friend Pope Alexander VI Borgia. Is it my imagination or does il papa cattivo keep popping up everywhere I turn?

Once within sight of the Vatican, I met up with my partner in crime, Theresa, and we braced ourselves to enter the scrum. Neither of us like to be in a big crowd, but our need to be part of history triumphed over our agoraphobia and we heartily braved the masses.

Upwards of 150,000 people came to say goodbye to Benedict XVI

It was actually not as bad as I had expected. It was just after nine and the square was still filling up, so we drifted toward the left of the square's two fountains, the one built by Gianlorenzo Bernini to match Carlo Maderno's earlier one on the right (north) side. As luck would have it, the fountain was off and bone dry. Several people and a few journalists were standing up on the edge of the fountain, so we figured, why not? We pulled ourselves up, thinking we would just take the opportunity to snap a few photos over the heads of the rest of the crowd, but it was so nice up there, and so much less crowded than below, that we ended up staying there for the entire audience.

You never realize how huge those fountains are until you are actually standing inside one of them.

This cute French family was climbing up the fountain to get the best possible view.

We had a panoramic view of the entire square, and the Pope himself, under his canopy, was in our direct line of sight, although little more than a tiny white dot from where we stood. He rode past, not far away, in his little Pope-mobile, and we would have been able to get a very good look at him, had it not been for all those darned pilgrims and their cumbersome banners. 

So much for our view!

The soon-to-be-ex-pope spoke for a considerable amount of time in his timid, accented Italian, reiterating his promise that he will not abandon the church, but will be serving it in a new way. The crowd was resplendent, powerfully shouting "Vivat Papam" in chorus and handing him babies to kiss as he drove through the throngs. Flags from seemingly every nation waved, from Spain to the United States to China to Ghana to Brunei to Palastine. The sun shined brilliantly all morning and it seemed much more like April than February, even for Rome. The difference in the two "last days" that I experienced was stark. The first, somber and grief-ridden; the second, joyful and full of hope for the future. And it struck me that perhaps it's silly to continue a tradition in which the pope, elected already an old man, should be expected to serve until his dying breath. The modern life expectancy means a pope could be made to languish for decades of ill health and frailty, all the while expected to make momentous decisions and provide leadership for billions of people. 

To be honest, I haven't completely made my mind up as to how I feel about the pope's decision, but a little change certainly couldn't hurt.

As smug as I was with my prime spot, my maritino, as usual, found a way to top it. His position was just slightly better than mine, and I have him to thank for these last three photos.

Benedict XVI's last ride in his Pope-mobile

Benedict XVI's final papal appearance

All photos by author and friends

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Pope Celestine V, the Other Pope who Resigned

I’ll never forget that phone call. It came around 11am on Monday morning 11 February (just two weeks ago). It was my Maritino on the phone. “It’s never happened before! It’s the first time in history….” he shouted down the phone. “WHAT?!” “The pope has resigned!!” or to use his words, “Si è dimesso il papa!!”

St. Peter Celestine, Niccolò di Tommaso, Castel Nuovo

After expressing the appropriate amount of shock, I couldn’t stop myself from correcting my dashing spouse, “Well, actually, it has happened…at least once. You know, Celestine V?” And in the days that followed, many articles swirled around the internet listing all the other popes who have resigned throughout history, but I'm here to tell you only one (until now) did so willingly, and that would be good old Celestine V in 1294.

For whatever else you can say about me, I defy you to say I don’t know my popes. I can name them forward and backwards…literally. In order from St. Peter to Benedict XVI or vice versa (in under five minutes if there’s money on it), and I even know all their family names (from 1200 to the present).

Now, to answer the question I know you are all asking yourselves (“Why on Earth…?”), what can I say? I like to memorize things. I figured it would be a useful thing to have at my fingertips, especially as a tour guide. Still, just because I know a particular pope's name and dates, doesn’t necessarily mean I know anything about him. I might not have known a thing about Celestine V had it not been for the unforgettable exhibit at the Capitoline Museums last year, Lux in Arcana.

As I wrote in an article for the Sydney Morning Herald, the exhibit brought 100 historic documents out of the darkness of the Vatican Secret Archives and put them on display in my favorite museum in the city. It was a very exciting show for us history addicts. And one of those precious documents concerned Pope Celestine V. But first a little back story:

Upon the death of Pope Nicolas IV in 1292, there were only 12 living cardinals whose task it now was to elect the next pope. The papal election, which was the last not held under lock and key, or “cum clave,” that is, in conclave, took place in Perugia. If these days the College of Cardinals is expected to select a new pope within days, the cardinals of 1292 must not have got the message. So long did the election drag on that one of the cardinals died during the proceedings. After two long years of voting and still no pope, the cardinals received a letter from Pietro del Morrone, a monk and hermit living in the mountains of Abruzzo. Brother Pietro warned that God would wreak his vengence on the cardinals if they failed to name a new pope, and right quick. 

It was as if Latino Malabranca, the dean of the College of Cardinals, suddenly had a vision from heaven (either that or we was so fed up, he figured, "What the hell, he might as well do...") for he immediately exclaimed, "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I elect brother Pietro del Morrone." All the other cardinals seemed satisfied, more or less, with this solution, and the decision was ratified by a unanimous vote. This letter, drafted on 11 July 1294 and affixed with the seals of all 11 remaining cardinals, was delivered to his mountain cave. Still in remarkably good condition, it was on display as part of the Lux in Arcana exhibition for much of 2012, and I saw it with my very own eyes.

© Daniele Fregonese

Only problem was, Pietro del Morrone, nearly 80, had no desire or intention to accept the position of pope. According to his biographer, he refused outright, with the humble words, "Who am I to take up such a heavy burden, so much power? I cannot save myself; how can I save the whole world?" When the cardinals insisted, he even tried to flee, but they found him, and more or less forced the honor upon him.

The Coronation of Pope Celestine V in August 1294, French School. 

After his coronation on 29 August, one of his first acts as pope was to declare an edict making it possible for a pope to abdicate. Clever man. With no political experience, he turned out to be a weak and ineffective pope, which probably came as no surprise to himself. This seems to prove that the most devout and pious priest does not necessarily make the best pope. Remind you of someone? I recall a particular line from a recent post by Vatican-expert Trisha Thomas on her blog Mozzarella Mamma, "Pope Benedict was a bad adminastrator who wrote three books about Jesus while he was Pope, while the men around him in the Vatican were back-stabbing each other."

It surprised no one, I imagine, when he took advantage of his new edict and abdicated before the year was out, divesting himself of all his papal power and authority, and returning to his quiet hermit's life. His successor, Pope Boniface VIII Caetani apparantly didn't trust Celestine's conviction to resign, and he had him imprisoned out of fear he would threaten his reign as an antipope. Celestine died after 10 months in prison, perhaps of old age, or perhaps on order from Boniface as many suspected at the time. Let's hope Benedict XVI's successor is not so insecure.

Although a later pope, Clement V, deemed Celestine's act of humility to be worthy of sainthood, and had him canonized in 1313, other contemporaries were not so generous. Dante Alighieri condemned him to one of the antechambers in hell in book three of his Inferno, verses 59-60, saying "I saw and recognized the shade of him who by his cowardice made the great refusal."

Benedict XVI clearly did not agree with Dante. After the sainted pope's body survived the 2009 earthquake in Aquila (miraculously, many believe), Pope Benedict visited his tomb, leaving behind the woolen mantle he wore at his own papal inauguration. Was he trying to tell us something? Many are now, and rightly so, comparing Benedict XVI to Celestine V, citing that, like his 13th-century counterpart, he is an introvert, a thinker, a scholar, not a born spiritual leader, like his predecessor John Paul II.

Just in case you are reading this, thinking, I heard that there have been several other popes who resigned in history. Well, yes and no. Others have resigned, but none of their own will. Pope Pontian resigned in 235 after being exiled to Sardinia by Emperor Maximinus Thrax. Pope Silverius was forcibly deposed by Empress Theodora in 537. In 649 Pope Martin I was kidnapped, deposed, and sent into exile by another Byzantine emperor. Then there was one of the most shameful popes in history (even worse than my favorite, the Borgia pope), Benedict IX, who was deposed not once, not twice, but three times, a few contemporaries along with him in the 10th century. And last (well, almost last) but not least, Pope Gregory XII, who was a bonafide pope in the early 1400s, but since he reigned simultaneously with two antipopes (one in Avignon and one in Pisa), he was pressured to resign along with the other two, in order to peacefully end the schism. So no, not really the same thing at all. This makes Benedict XVI only the second pope in the history of the Catholic church to have willingly resigned. Unless you count this guy:

(Is Nanni Moretti psychic?)

Image sources: 1, 2: courtesy of Zetema Progetto Cultura, 3, 4

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The Best of the Blogs: Rome and Beyond

I’m excited to announce a new feature on the blog: This Week in Rome. Every weekend, I will be linking to my favorite articles, blog posts, videos and other goodies found on the Internets that week. Although I’m calling it This Week in Rome, and I expect the majority of items I post will be about this lovely city’o’mine, it will not be limited to Rome, but may include anything from around Italy and the world that I think would be of interested to my readers.

Now you all know how good I am at keeping up with my weekly posts! You’ll recall my weekly bi-yearly history posts I dash out every Monday whenever I can find the time. But this is going to be different! I can no longer keep these gems to myself. When I read something fascinating, or hilarious, or spot-on true, I’ve just got to share it with you beloved bloglings, and this is where I plan to do it.

Before this feature is officially unveiled at the end of next week, I’d like to take this opportunity to sing the praises of just a few of my very favorite blogs, although there are many more wonderful ones out there. They are all on my blogroll, but a list of names often do not do justice to the uniqueness of each, so I want to give you a little taste of them here, as they are sure to show up often on my weekly review posts.

So, in no particular order:

Mozzarella Mamma

Patricia Thomas is a foreign correspondent for Associated Press Television News, and one of the few foreign journalists with accredited access to the Vatican. Although her blog covers many fascinating news stories, it is also a chronicle of her life as a mamma in Italy, raising three children with her Italian husband, juggling her career and family life in a land where being a mamma comes with some enormous expectations.

Un’Americana a Roma

If you’re interested in delving into the complex psyche of the average Italian, this blog is the perfect primer. Shelley Ruelle has called Rome home for over a decade, and in that time has garnered a keen understanding of the workings of the Italian mind. She blogs about everything from Italian politics to Roman culture to the random absurdities of life in Italy, all with a refreshing dose of honesty and plenty of hilarious commentary.

Revealed Rome

This is the perfect blog for people who are planning a trip to Rome and want all the insider advice and tricks. Amanda Ruggeri is an indefatigable writer who will fill you in on all of Rome’s best kept secrets, and make sure you don’t fall into any of the many dreaded tourist traps this lovely city so helpfully provides. She’s got her finger on Rome’s pulse, and doesn’t miss any of the most important cultural events that hit the city.

Parla Food

There is one question I get more than any other from friends, friends of friends, clients, and anyone I have ever come into contact with, who is planning a trip to Rome: Where should I eat? And my response is invariable: ask Katie Parla. Katie is a certified sommelier and holds a Masters in Italian Gastronomic Culture, so it’s safe to say she knows what she’s talking about. She has spent the last 10 years exploring Rome’s culinary jungle, her taste is impeccable and she tells it like it is. She blogs about every gastronomic option in the city, from greasy street food to Michelin-starred excellence, from craft beer to organic wine, from traditional Roman cuisine to authentic Ethiopian, Korean or Indian, and everything in between.

Diario di una Studentessa Matta (Diary of a Mad Student)

Melissa Muldoon may not be an Italian resident, but this linguistically gifted American woman has mastered the Italian language more than many of us who live here full time. After falling in love with this undeniably gorgeous language during her many trips to Italy, she decided to perfect it by regular blogging… IN ITALIAN! To be honest, I don’t know how she does it. I have a hard enough time stringing together a coherent sentence in my native tongue. If you’d like to improve your own Italian skills, reading is one of the best ways, so hop over to her blog to read her musings about Italy, all in Dante’s glorious Tuscan.

Letters from Florence

When I feel like laughing until I practically burst a spleen, all the while nodding my head in emphatic agreement, and crying with gratitude that there is somebody out there who has the same gripes and 

frustrations with life in Italy, but is able to express them with hysterical and beautifully crafted prose, I visit this site. Elizabeth Petrosian lives with her family near Florence and writes about all aspects of life in Italy, with side-splitting hilarity and not a grain of sugar-coating. Her most priceless posts tell of the antics of her almost unbelievably horrid in-laws.

Senza Bidet

There are quite a lot of us American expats living in Rome and blogging about the craziness that such a life entails. But what if the shoe were on the other foot? Laura is Italian, born and raised in Rome, with an American husband and two half-and-half kids. They live in LA and Laura blogs in Italian about the things that madden or bewilder her as an Italian expat in the US. For example, why does her doctor not acknowledge the dangers of colpo d’aria, why are her American friends so shocked when she tells her little boy, “Se non te stai zitto, t'ammazzo di botte!” (I’ll beat you to death if you don't shut up), and why, God, why, are there no bidets in America?!

Check out these amazing blogs; I promise you won’t be disappointed! I only hope that after you’ve discovered them, you’ll still have time to visit my little blog! Stay tuned for my upcoming This Week in Rome feature, to be inaugurated next weekend.

What other exceptional Rome or Italy blogs do you love?

All images are copyright of the authors of the respective blogs.

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