Juliet's Answer: One Man's Search for Love and the Elusive Cure for Heartbreak

Mercutio:  Any man that can write may answer a letter.
                          -Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene IV

In Juliet's Answer, author Glenn Dixon pretty much ticks all the boxes on a modern day travel memoir: His real life has provided a situation rife with dramatic irony (in his case, a tale of woe; of unrequited love) which he was able to finally confront and interpret through a trip to a foreign land (complete with a highly interesting project while in Verona, Italy), and then reinterpret in the routine life that followed (as a high school English teacher guiding his students through a reading of Romeo and Juliet back home in Calgary), and throughout this personal story, he adds in the history and geography of Verona, as well as research on the neurochemical and social underpinnings of human romantic love. While on the one hand I was always aware that Dixon probably had an editor over his shoulder saying, “You need some history here, some sciency stuff here” – while there was something obscurely formulaic and nonorganic about the format – I can't deny that the content was all interesting enough to keep my focus. I read this book on the beach, just a few weeks before heading to Italy (including Verona) myself, and it was all that I had hoped for and more.

It's a bit pretentious, I can see that now. I guess I thought I had to adopt a certain tone with Juliet. Perhaps you have some words of wisdom for me? I mean really.

That's what I stuffed into the red letter box in the courtyard across from the statue of Juliet. Juliet of the golden right breast...There was nothing to do now, except go back to Canada and wait for my answer.

Forever unlucky in love and something of an expert on Shakespeare, it wasn't by chance that Dixon decided to spend time one summer in Verona as one of “Juliet's Secretaries” at the Club di Giulietta: apparently, anyone can write a letter to Juliet (and either drop it in the mailbox in front of her family home or address it to Juliet c/o Verona, Italy – it will reach her) and with a staff there that can respond in nearly any language, one can expect an eventual handwritten and personalised reply by mail. Dixon himself volunteered to be one of the English language secretaries, and as he had hoped, reading the love letters of strangers and being forced to consider appropriate responses focussed him on his own emotional needs and beliefs about love. I found everything about the Club di Giulietta – its history, staff, the types of letters they receive and the efforts to respond appropriately – to be totally fascinating. While in Verona, Dixon sought out those places mentioned in Romeo and Juliet, and even he was surprised to learn that the pair likely did exist (Dante even placed the Montagues and Capulets in his Inferno). There's also some traveloguing – Dixon sharing his favourite gelato and pizza places – and again, I found this all interesting.

After this first summer in Verona, Dixon returned to teaching again, and this section felt a bit forced to me. I understand the usefulness to this book of going through the highlights of Romeo and Juliet with a grade ten class – Dixon gets to stress which parts are important and explain their deeper meanings as though answering the questions of first time readers – but I got the sense that these sections didn't literally occur as written: I didn't really believe that some couple got together because they were stirred up by the balcony scene; that the girl in the hijab was absent for a few days when Juliet's father started talking about her arranged marriage. In the end notes, Dixon explains that these students were amalgamations (which I figured would have to be the case to protect their privacy), but that everything he wrote did happen at some time – and I buy that, but it still rang a false note in the moment: I expect my nonfiction to all be true. Dixon himself went through some emotionally charged experiences this year as well, and where the details of his life dovetailed with the text of the play at the exact same time, I again had the feeling of facts having been arranged to suit after the fact: not untrue, perhaps, but manipulated. Still, Dixon does have a story to tell.

The following summer, Dixon returned to Verona; older and wiser. This time, he was present for (and participated in) the annual festival that the Club di Giulietta holds in honour of Juliet's birthday – all fascinating to read about – and this climactic celebration coincided with a happy transformation of events in Dixon's own life. As I said at the beginning, Dixon's life does have dramatic irony worthy of documenting – his tale follows a satisfying story arc and the supporting information (Shakespeare, Verona, the Club di Giulietta) is rich in interest – so my only complaint is really that of formatting: the way that Dixon's story has been moulded into a cookie-cutter memoir; likely not his fault. Bonus: Now I know how to ask for chocolate in the bottom of my gelato cone.

This was a buddy beach read with Kennedy - we'll be heading to Italy together here soon and I thought this book would add to our excitement - but she's pretty impatient with Dixon's writing voice (which I found colloquial, and Kennedy finds pretentious). Her problem, as she sees it, is that her least favourite English teacher in high school was a man and she can't stop picturing him as the author - which makes the author seem amateurish and reaching beyond his station to dare to write a book when he should be simply teaching them. This is not a problem for me - I do think that Dixon's particular story and the unique knowledge and travel experience he brings to its telling is memoir-worthy - but I've decided to add Kennedy's dissenting voice for balance. 

I mailed my letter in Verona....

                                                                                                                                                                              

...and read some Shakespeare overlooking Juliet's courtyard.