The Italian Spirit of Curiosity — And the Mystery of the Missing Bookstores

There is a certain way the Italian Spirit reveals itself: an invitation to live life with curiosity. I was reminded of this during a trip to Taormina, Sicily. Taormina is breathtaking from every angle—the sea shimmering below, the dramatic cliffs, the layers of history woven into every stone. Its historic center is lined with elegant boutiques and luxury brands. Yet something immediately struck me: there are no bookstores.

For someone like me, this absence feels almost surreal. I adore stepping into bookstores, discovering new titles, breathing in the scent of paper, wandering through sections arranged by genre—science fiction, literature, romance, foreign fiction. For me, a bookstore is a passport; each shelf is a journey around the world.

My love for reading began early. My mother was an avid reader of Gialli, the iconic Italian mystery novels.

Il Giallo Mondadori, first published in 1929, became a cultural phenomenon—its bright yellow covers instantly recognizable. Later, my Philosophy teacher and my mentor deepened that passion, guiding me toward libraries and bookstores as places of exploration and self‑discovery.

And yet, in Taormina—home to Taobuk, one of the most prestigious international literary festivals—there isn’t a single bookstore. Why? No one seems to know. Perhaps tourists prefer a Prada dress to a paperback. Perhaps locals feel they already know everything (as a friend jokingly suggested). Or perhaps the desire to explore new horizons through reading simply isn’t part of the town’s rhythm. I leave the interpretation to you—echoing Manzoni, “to posterity the arduous judgment.”

Curious, I looked into which Italian city has the highest number of bookstores. The answer surprised me: Massa Carrara.

Massa Carrara, a seaside town in Tuscany, is elegant and lively, filled with designer boutique.  But unlike Taormina, it is also rich in bookstores. They invite passersby to step inside, discover new worlds, and spark conversations. Here, reading still feels like a shared cultural value, a thread connecting people, ideas, and generations.

Bookstores offer something online shopping never will: a relationship with booksellers who listen, guide, and recommend; a sense of community; the joy of serendipity—finding the book you didn’t know you needed.

Booksellers are the ancient custodians of knowledge, and their presence enriches the cultural life of a city.

So, what do Italians read most? Contemporary fiction, the classics, and romance—especially among young people and women. Mystery, thriller, and noir continue to attract a wide and diverse audience. These preferences reveal yet another facet of Italy’s cultural identity.

And of course, this phenomenon isn’t uniquely Italian. In the United States, too, there are cities without a single bookstore or Barnes & Noble, and libraries that—due to limited funding—offer only a modest selection of genres and languages.

But perhaps that’s why the presence of a bookstore feels so precious. It’s not just a shop. It’s a doorway. A conversation. A spark.

And sometimes, it’s the very thing that reminds us to stay curious.