James
C. Mancuso
February, 2000
The expectations of the immigrants fractured under the pressures which their offspring experienced as they interacted with the inhabitants of surrounding neighborhoods who expected that the offspring of the immigrants should, indeed, "become Americans." The young people of Italian-American communities were placed in the position of marginal persons (Stonequist, 1961). They had little understanding of the psychological processes involved when they faced subtle and/or direct expectations that they give up the perspectives they had developed in the domus. The young members of the immigrant community frequently rebelled against the values and practices which, their parents believed, had led to the family's dignified and respectful status. At times, the rebels supported their revolt by acquiring a comprehensive disdain for their forebears. A small portion of the immigrants' progeny found ways to formulate a balanced perspective on both the values of the dominant culture and the values which the domus had transmitted. As expected, the literary works of the immigrants' descendants illuminate the personal struggles generated by the requirement that the writers adopt a role worthy of warrant in a world controlled by the scions of the local dominant culture.
The near-contemporaneous, recent appearance of three literary efforts illustratively locate the struggles the offspring of Italian immigrants to venture into the social world of the dominant culture of the picturesque Berkshire Mountains of western Massachusetts. The ensuing essay will contain a set of observations to provide a frame for assessing the three texts which describe the experiences of these "venturers." Thereupon, the three texts will be evaluated. Ultimately, this essay contains observations regarding the dissemination of material which records efforts to come to terms with personal self role development of venturers -- those persons immersed in the contacts in which people categorize their selves and others in terms of ethnic group membership.
The casual visitor to Williamstown, Massachusetts would judge this charming New England setting to be a most unlikely stage for this dramatic cultural confrontation. On closer inspection, the observer would find that this part of The United States provides a superb theater in which the progeny of the immigrants could improvise their personal self-defining roles. Three Italian-American writers recently have realized the appropriateness of using that setting as they have applied their literary skills to comment on the confrontation between the perspectives of the dominant culture and those of the domus.
Williamstown, a classic New England college town, occupies one of the lovely valleys in the Berkshire mountains of Massachusetts. In his novel, Stardust, Parker (1990) aptly notes, "There [is] a high gloss of rustic chic in the Berkshires -- Tanglewood, Stockbridge, Williamstown Theatre Festival . . . " (p. 111). Williamstown represents the epitome of such "rustic chic," and much more. Few college campuses in The USA, for example, attract a student body which would match the "old family" luster emanating from high-status Williams College.
A short distance across a low rise in the terrain, to the east of Williamstown, a traveler enters a different kind of classic New England town. Everything about North Adams would qualify that town as a representative of the skeletons of the once prosperous industrial cities of northeastern United States. Marianna De Marco Torgovnick (1994) says of North Adams (which she does not name), "The nearest [to Williamstown] large town is an ugly twin to the college town, a former mill town as thoroughly working class and ethnic as the college town is upper middle class and WASP" (p. 60). And, being like similar mill towns of the Northeastern region of The USA, the largest ethnic group in North Adams originated in Southern Italy and Sicily. The offspring of managers, professionals, and proprietors who worked in North Adams could escape exposure to this ambience. Williamstown provided the ideal bedroom community for those who could afford the life style of a commuter.
The Italian-American youth of North Adams entered a fantasy world when they served as busboys, waitresses, and janitorial staff in the stylish restaurants and inns that indulged visiting families, like the families of Williams College students and alumni. The offspring of the immigrants could also observe the cultural practices of these old-line families when they worked as contract labor for the builders and landscape gardeners who built, maintained, and groomed the region's luxurious country homes, estates, and entertainment centers. From that vantage point they could study the upper-class families who participated in the summer season's events at venues such as Tanglewood Music Festival, Williamstown Theater Festival, and Berkshire Opera Company. Having been thrust into this world, a representative scion of the North Adams Italian-American families could not avoid the personal strain that would result from attempting to define his/her personal roles in the drama in which they were forced to participate. At the same time, they would be made aware that they could be construed in terms of their membership in an ethnic group - a categorization that frequently allowed simultaneous categorization into a socioeconomic class.
Their parents would have been of scant help. Orsi (1985) draws up a cogent picture of the Italian-immigrants' response to the members of the dominant culture -- Gli Americani. "Those people" were effete and undignified. Gli Americani had little understanding of how to behave in instances of adversity. Above all, they failed to adhere to cherished values regarding family, commitment, sexuality, work, and diet. As such, "those people" served as seducers who would tempt the youngsters like Carmine and Carmella to abandon the roles which the domus would prescribe for them. If Carmine aspired to become like one of "those Williams College students," he would, in effect, aspire to reject "his own." If Carmella nurtured a hope that "one of those Williamstown boys" would offer her attention, her parents would have warned her, "he's only after one thing -- a couple hours of his pleasure." At the same time, the parents of Carmine and Carmella would have a vague, ill-defined awareness that their children would not "get ahead" if they did not "become American."
Carmine and Carmella certainly would not have found a text as popular as was Dreiser's An American tragedy to give them clear direction as they scripted their roles in this world of "rustic chic." They might have encountered the repeated and controversial claim that Italian-Americans had not produced the kinds of literature that could offer a guide to a successful outcome to their efforts to achieve functional self role definitions. Having heard this observation, they might have inquired into the reasons why such literature was not readily available in schools and libraries.. A variety of explanations, of course, could be offered. Carmella might find a commonly expressed, but confabulating, view that the progeny of Italian Americans did not show a propensity to produce literary works. She might also encounter a concomitant, and less controversial, view that the Italian-American community does not support those who do produce literature. Prospective writers who originated in the domus frequently encounter this impression when they receive rejections of proposals for manuscripts, and the writers have no basis for rebutting the evidence gathered in the cash register tapes of bookstores.
Distrust
of the guidebooks provided by intellectuals.
Before reaching a concluding
explanation of why such literature was not readily available, consider
the possibility that Carmine had encountered a particularly astute North
Adams High School teacher, who recommended that he read Di
Donato's Christ in concrete, or
Dreiser's
An
American tragedy. In either, he would find a tale of struggle to
counter the exploitation of lower socio-economic persons. He might have
empathized with the youthful protagonist of Dreiser's novel, Clyde Griffiths;
and might then have inquired about the possibility that a similar novel
had been written around an Italian-American protagonist. Had Carmine explained
to his parents that he had found Dreiser's or Di Donato's interpretations
of the consequences of interclass contact to be applicable to the Williamstown/North
Adams scene, they might have registered a reaction expressed by many politically
cautious Italian-Americans -- severe disapproval of their son's willingness
to accept "radical" doctrine.
The
kind of thinking found in these works of Di Donato or Dreiser, Carmine's
parents would likely have believed, emanated from communist or socialist
doctrine. Carmine's parents would know about "red scares," Palmer
raids, and the infamous Sacco/Vanzetti
affair. They would know about the dangers confronting an Italian-American
who expresses "radical" thought. Additionally, they knew that during each
Roman Catholic mass the priest had asked the congregation to pray for the
salvation of the people of The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. At
the same time, Carmine's parents would need to deal with the contradictions
stimulated by their holding of the suspicion that, somehow, such radical
thought freely circulated on the campus of prestigious Williams College
where the scions of the capitalists were educated to enter the professional
and commercial world. Such thought, they believed, would be relatively
rare on the campuses of the denominational colleges to which they might
send their children.
The
Southern Italian immigrants' views were ineluctably embedded in centuries
of experiences which had nourished their distrust of intellectuals. The
intellectuals who had resisted French, Spanish, and Austrian domination
(1266 - 1734) had constantly attracted the attentions of their oppressors'
armies, police, torturers, and executioners. To illustrate: about 85 years
before the beginning of the great Italian Avventura, Napoleon's
forces had arrived in Naples to support the Neapolitan intellectuals who
then set up the short-lived Parthenopean Republic. There followed a terrible
struggle, directly implicating the peasant classes who were convinced that
the French supported public would take away their god and their king. Within
a year, the wastrel King of Naples, Ferdinand IV of Bourbon, and his termagant
queen, Maria Carolina, returned from their British-protected haven in Palermo.
Despite
prior guarantees of safe passage for the leaders of the vanquished Parthenopean
Republicans, Queen Maria Carolina insisted on revenge. She knew that
Admiral
Lord Horatio Nelson would use his British fleet to carry out her plans.
The queen conveyed her desires to Lord Nelson through a letter she wrote
to Nelson's amanta, the Lady Hamilton. The queen wrote, ". . . Note
will be taken of . . . the most rabid scribblers." and, "we must make an
example of the leading representatives" (quotations appear in Acton, 1956,
p. 397). These revolutionaries, after all, had disseminated noteworthy
anti-royalist sentiments. They had tried "to force the dignity of man,
the evils of despotism and the virtues of republicanism down the throats
of the incredulous, mocking lazzaroni" (Acton's phrasing, 1956,
p. 368).
The
fate of the deposed admiral of the short-lived republic, Francesco Caracciolo,
furnished a particularly archetypal example of his captor's enthusiastic
attention to the queen's wishes. Here, Admiral Lord Nelson acted with exemplary
imperial English efficiency. Within eight hours after his apprehension,
Admiral Caracciolo had been tried, found guilty of high treason, hanged
aboard the ship he formerly had commanded, and dumped into the Bay of Naples.
When Carraciolo's decomposing body reappeared on the surface of The Bay,
a gruesome description of the movements of the corpse circulated freely
among i lazzaroni of Naples.
King
Ferdinand IV continually relied on this kind of royalist help. In 1815,
Ferdinand
returned to his throne in Naples under the protection of the Austrians,
following Napoleon's defeat and the removal of the second French-supported
government, headed by Napoleon's brother-in-law, Joachim Murat. Ferdinand
survived one after another effort to reduce his absolutist tyranny.
In 1821 he called in the Austrian army to suppress the reformers who had
forced him to draw up a constitution. Until his death in 1825, he celebrated
his success with four more years of cruel vendetta. For another thirty-five
years, those Southern Italians who promulgated enlightened perspectives
fared no better under the reign of the three other absolutist Bourbon kings.
In 1860, Garibaldi's
sweep through Sicily ended the 126 year Bourbon occupancy of the throne
of The Kingdom of The Two Sicilies. After South Italy and Naples were annexed
to the newly-formed Kingdom of Italy, the gates to emigration opened, and
the Italy-to-The- USA avventura provided a flood of new Americans.
The
Southern Italians' and Sicilians' distrust of the advice of intellectuals
gained new strength as a result of bitter events that followed the 1870
unification of Italy.
In
reaction to the deplorable economic and social conditions which could not
be ameliorated by the policies of the new central government of Italy --
a government clearly oriented toward the more prosperous north of Italy
and to the nobility of the south -- the workers of Sicily organized I
Fasci. These societies flourished, so that by 1893 350,000 farm
and sulfur workers had become Fascisti. In their fervor to gain
their ends, the leadership lost control of the Fascisti. The central
government took drastic action. Francesco Crispi, a native Sicilian bent
on making Italy into a colonial power, was recalled as Italy's prime minister.
He sent a fleet and over 30,000 soldiers to the island to back up his policy
of martial law. The
Fasci groups were declared illegal, and the
Fasci
leaders were systematically arrested. The courts dragged out the trials
of the leaders, and extensive publicity accompanied the issuing of savage
sentences. The populace, tens of thousands of whom were disenfranchised
on the slightest pretext, had reason to feel deep disillusionment with
the "the scribblers" who had triggered the action that had led to this
repression. Tens of housands of laboring people reverted to their ancient
ideology, "Badi alle cose tuoe," and they bought their tickets for
passage to the new world.
In
the new world, knowing their status as reluctantly-welcomed alien laborers,
the immigrants were constantly reminded of the dangers facing someone who
showed facility in giving a radical voice to the strains experienced by
those attempting to define their roles in the new world. The Italian immigrant
community would have known that the scribbling in Andrea Salseda's underground
newsletter had inflamed the kind of anarchistic ideologies expressed by
Bartolomeo
Vanzetti and Nicola Sacco. They would have known that Salseda met his
death when his body smashed into the concrete at the end of a fourteen
story drop from a window of The USA's Justice Department's New York City
offices. Other examples also were available. Carlo Tresca was well known
as a very forceful labor leader, and he also made no secret to his socialist
orientations. Tresca's mysterious murder, in 1943, was well publicized
in Italian-American communities. His still unsolved murder would have given
people cause to consider the futility of minding the business of the people
in power. And, they certainly would have known what had happened to the
eloquent Sacco and Vanzetti.
Inducements
to move out of the land of the aliens. Factors, other than a distrust
of intellectualism, further dampened the production of texts that the youngsters
of immigrant families could use to build self role definitions. Only a
very select, fortunate few potential writers encountered an instructor
who could guide their search for a satisfying role definition. The schools
which the children of the Italian immigrants attended were dominated by
the pronouncements of educators like Ellwood Cubberley. Cubberley (1909)
first described southern Europeans as "illiterate, docile, lacking in self
reliance and initiative, and not possessing the Anglo-Teutonic conceptions
of law, order, and government" who "tend to set up here their national
manners, customs and observances" (p. 15). He then advised, as follows:
Our
task is to break up these groups of settlements, to assimilate and amalgamate
these people as part of our American race, and to implant in their children
as far as can be done, the Anglo-Saxon conception of righteousness, law
and order, and to awaken in them a reverence for our democratic institutions
and/or those things in our national life which we as a people hold to be
of abiding worth. (Cubberley, 1909, p. 15)
The
esteemed outcome of plying this task would result in the kind of declaration
which would be made by Henry
Suzzallo. In 1921, Suzzallo, who had had an extended, close relationship
with Cubberley, was at the height of his remarkable tenure as President
of The University of Washington. A highly skilled speaker, he addressed
an audience in Victoria, British Columbia. There, this son of ethnic Italian
immigrants to California said,
There
is not a drop of Anglo-Saxon blood in my veins, but thank God I can choose
my spiritual and political ancestry, and I have chosen the Anglo-Saxon
ideals for my ancestry. (Reported in the Victoria Times, April 1,
1921).
Leonard
Covello, another scholar who grew up in an Italian immigrant family,
described the techniques that many educators had used to bring about such
startling testimony. "We were becoming Americans by learning to be ashamed
of our parents" (Covello, with D'Agostino, 1958, p. 43|.
What
would Carmine encounter were he to make his way to a publicly supported
college. There he undoubtedly would find that the denizens of the academic
world had great faith in the idea of communal action. They viewed the ideology
of "tend to your own affairs" as being a very negative feature of the Italian
immigrant culture. Thus, it would not have been unusual for a scion of
the Italian-American culture to have sat through a sociology course and
to have been exposed to academics who readily judged the ideology of Bada
alle cose tuoe to be definitively negative. Banfield's book, The
Moral Basis of a Backward Society (Banfield, 1958) was a staple in
social science courses.
Banfield
went to the Southern Italian province Potenza to study and to explain the
lack of economic progress in one of the villages in that province. As a
result of his studies, Banfield coined the term amoral familism,
by which to categorize the behavior of the person who adopt the following
rule: "Maximize the material, and short-run advantage of the nuclear family;
assume that all others will do likewise" (p. 83).
Banfield
did write:
The
mechanism which produces the ethos of amoral familism is undoubtedly complex,
consisting of many elements in a mutually reinforcing relation. The dreadful
poverty of the region and a degraded status of those who do manual labor.
. . . Are surely of very great importance in forming it; they are structural
features, so to speak in the system of causes. (p. 139)
Yet,
he could not offer the conclusion that the ideology of Bada alle cose
tuoe would represent a very useful moral principle in a region where
the contadini had been subjected to centuries-long degradation and
poverty.
Assume
that Carmine had been assigned to read that book in his sociology course.
Would Carmine, struggling to develop workable self role definitions as
he interacted with persons who could categorize him as a member of the
Italian-American ethnic group, dare to contest Banfield's conclusions about
this ideology?
While
these elements surrounded aspiring Italian-American writers, why would
they labor to produce literature which reflected a reasonably balanced
account of the identity struggles of the progeny of the immigrants? How
would they write about their personal relationships to a culture transmitted
by shame-worthy and "amoral" parents? Moreover, why would a developing
Italian-American writer confront the keepers of the perspectives - the
"realities" -- of the dominant culture by exploring the reasoned bases
of the values and ideologies of the domus? The dominant Irish-American
Roman Catholic Church hierarchy had made clear their opprobrium of the
Southern Italian versions of religious practices. The professors, critics,
reviewers, and producers of the literature of The USA had devoured Freudian
psychoanalytic theory and relished every opportunity to demonstrate their
ability to get to "the real story" (distorted sexuality??) submerged in
every text. Would an Italian-American adolescent want to share with the
literary world his grandmother's earthy advice: "Keep it in your pants.
In the long run, it will just get you into trouble?" Additionally, any
Italian-American who attempted to render a balanced positive/negative view
of Italian-American life would need to exert special effort to treat the
issue of crime, lest he be accused of denying the validity of the ubiquitous
belief that a sizeable number of Italian-American endorse such activity
-- or, worse, lest the writer allow the inference that he/she would defend
the value systems of the imagined members of "The Mafia."
Few
writers were able to walk the tightrope over which Mario Puzo (1969) has
traveled. Few writers developed the particular writing skills that allowed
them to portray leaders of organized crime as committed and loyal members
of the domus who simultaneously performed as skilled negotiators while
managing multi-million dollar criminal enterprises by the use of grotesque
violence. Few writers took the bold step of attempting to demonstrate that
one could be ascribed the features of members of the Italian-American ethnic
group - family loyalty, love of food and music, violence - and yet achieve
the most vaunted of American values - financial power and control.
Other
writers who had originated in the domus, of which Gay Talese would be the
most prototypical exemplar. did discover a traversable route to success
in the literary world. They could show that they accepted the standard
processes by which one was categorized as a member of the Italian-American
ethnic group, and then make it clear that they not only agreed with that
process, but that they were fortunate and strong enough to have molded
their self into a more acceptable type. Indeed, Talese became an "expert"
on Italian-American literature by gaining access to the op-ed page of The
New York Times to proclaim his thesis. Noting that he could gain ready
agreement that Italian-Americans followed the ideology of
bada alle
cose tuoe, he laid the claim that Italian-Americans did not write because
to do so would be to bare the secrets of the domus - to reveal to the world
the things of the family. This claim, of course, played nicely into the
mythology of silence among the inner circles of crime syndicates, often
known as Cosa Nostra - Things of Ours. And, it was assumed
that Talese knew a great deal about crime families, since he had written
a heavy volume about Italian-American crime figures, Honor thy father.
Further, Talese could proudly take credit for having risen above this kind
of amoral familialism, for shortly before he was given a platform
from which to propound insights which affirmed negative, stereotypical
categorizing of Italian-Americans, he had recently published an equally
heavy volume -- Unto the sons - which purports to reveal his family
secrets.
George
Cuomo. George Cuomo's seventh and eighth novels reflect his direct
contact with working class Italian immigrant culture. Cuomo's father's
parents had immigrated from Italy to The USA, and lived in the Greater
New York City neighborhood in which the novelist developed. He used the
home and the neighborhood of his childhood as the model for setting of
his seventh novel, Family Honor. Family Honor is the first
of Cuomo's books which conveys an autobiographical flavor. In writing about
the family of the novel's protagonist, Vinnie Sirola, Cuomo does portray
Sirola's Italian-American father as worthy of respect and sympathy. However,
descriptions of other members of Sirola's paternal relatives strongly suggest
that the author had been exposed to the kind of instruction which encouraged
him to regard his forebears as shameful. Cuomo repeatedly supplied text
describing the Sirola grandmother and her offspring as unlettered, distrustful,
anti-intellectual, and ridden by superstition, jealousy, and greed. Furthermore,
this reader of this 591 page novel had difficulty recalling one single
account of a pleasant event that occurred during interactions of the Italian
immigrant family surrounding Sirola: not even the consumption of a tasty
slice of pizza!
Family
Honor presents in saga form the history of labor organizing activity
in The United States of America, using Sirola as a heroic mover and shaker
in that movement. As such, he is presented as a largely admirable character.
Cuomo clearly intends to leave the reader with the impression that Sirola's
hard-headed idealism developed out of his association with his unrealistically
idealistic father and his mother's relatively cultured Germanic parents.
Yet, Cuomo gives few clues about the origins of the idealism and social
thought that inspired Sirola's father. Nothing can explain how such idealism
might have flourished in the uncouth Sirola family that Cuomo describes.
Nor is there any suggestion that that family is a part of a domus having
the characteristics of those which Orsi describes.
The
narrative line of Cuomo's Trial by Water elicits a more positive
reaction to the Italian-American family of the protagonist, Florian Rubio.
Cuomo presents Rubio as an ex-resident of The Bronx, ex-factory worker,
ex-contractor, ex-husband, and sexual knight transplanted to the Williamstown-like
town, Trent. There Rubio achieved high-level financial and social success
through exercising an astute knowledge of the relationships of terrain
and site development. His local esteem, in tandem with his sexual successes,
even earns him admission to the board of directors of the "Trent Theater
Festival." Yet, Rubio shows great respect for his parents, who are described
persons who embody the most positive attributes of persons who can be classed
as members of the Italian-American ethnic group. Thus, Cuomo deftly
portrays a person who had accommodated his original perspectives so that
he can assimilate the value perspectives of the dominant culture (rigorous
physical exercise in a gymnasium, commercial wizardry, financial success,
and support of artistic endeavors) while still being able to understand
and appreciate the perspectives of parents who valued the traditions of
the culture in which he had developed as a child.
Cuomo
performs an adept twist on the issue of conflict that arises in the contact
between Italian-Americans and the surrounding dominant culture. Florian
Rubio's son, Brian, becomes involved in a rowdy dockside tussle with a
group of students from the town of Medway (North Adams?), the industrial
town neighboring Trent (Williamstown?). Two Medway youths drown when they
are trapped in an auto that is propelled into a lake while engaged in a
ramming contest with a vehicle being used by Brian. Thus, the youth who
faces the machinery of the criminal justice system is the scion of an outsider
family that has been partially, and somewhat grudgingly, incorporated into
the dominant social group. By this device Cuomo can explore the complicated
relationships between the inhabitants of Medway and the inhabitants of
upscale Trent. By describing the precursors to the tragic incident, the
conditions of the persons involved in the incident, the strategies of the
prosecutor and the defending lawyers, the trial itself, and the consequences
of the trial, Cuomo succeeds in presenting the fine details of ways in
which venturers interact.
By
having provided the details of this narrative, Cuomo also has provided
Carmine and Carmella with ample opportunity to engage in alternative identities.
A young Italian-American would have little difficulty identifying with
a person like Florian Rubio. In the novel, Rubio has built a commodious
home into which he has moved his father and mother, who are clearly characterized
as keepers of the tradition of the domus. These keepers of the family hearth
live in the home of a son who has edged into the upper circles of local
power. As contrast, Cuomo describes the visits which Florian's father,
Salvatore, makes to "the Polecat Bar and Grill, smack in the middle of
all those Medway factories . . . patronized mostly by IE retirees, [a place
that] had been Salvatore's spiritual home ever since he'd discovered it
soon after moving up from the Bronx" (p. 103). Cuomo can give overt voice
to the discomfort which the scions of Trent's established families experience
as they face Rubio's consistent successes; and, conversely, he can specify
Rubio's satisfaction as he "rubs it in." Cuomo regularly describes pleasures
of the tables prepared by Florian's mother, Lucille. In this setting, Cuomo
can easily interject commentary which highlights the two cultures' views
on marital fidelity, sexuality, efforts to regulate youth, the maintenance
of self sufficiency, and so forth. Concurrently, he can describe Salvatore's
subtle reactions to, as well as his comments on, his tensions in dealing
with Florian's upscale friends. In contrast to his description of the Italian-American
family in his earlier novel, Cuomo describes with great warmth the sincere
and caring support which the extended Rubio family offered to Florian and
to Brian. He deftly communicates the ways in which Florian's associates
respond to Salvatore's impressive garden, to Lucille's culinary skills,
and to Salvatore's inexhaustible loyalty to Lucille after she suffers an
incapacitating stroke. Throughout, Florian proceeds self-assuredly; always
showing respect for his parent's expression of their values, trying to
placate his mother's tension over Brian's violation of her central values;
and making every effort to assure his parents that their positive values
earn the respect of the outer community.
In
Trial
by Water Cuomo tracks the intense personal journeys of the cast of
characters and weaves an engrossing tale that illuminates the universally
experienced strain occurring during the meetings of persons reared at the
interface of two diverse cultures. Cuomo digs deeply into his understanding
of cultural contact -- a knowledge undoubtedly enriched by his own experiences
-- and frames that understanding into a well-told story that allows a reader
to elaborate his/her consciousness of similar events. Considering the skill
he demonstrates in handling these issues in Trial by Water, one
must regret that Cuomo had worked his way through six novels before turning
his narrative skill toward this kind of exploration.
In
Cuomo's two novels featuring Italian-American protagonists, he signifies
to the literati that he knows about, but that he does not endorse, the
positive value which the domus places on the restraint of sexuality. Cuomo
takes every opportunity to affirm that his protagonists fully satisfy the
most ardent psychoanalyst's expectations. He formulaically leads Sirola
and Rubio into demonstrations of their constant longing for, high skill
in, and frequent participation in "glorious sex." In
Family Honor
he devotes page after page to clinical reports of Sirola's attempts to
master the finest technology for manipulating his penis as he copulates.
No one can doubt that Cuomo strives to show agreement with the current,
popular adulation of sexuality; and that if Sirola and Rubio's grandmothers
had advised restraint, that advice has been rejected.
In
illuminating the relationships of the domus to the outer culture, Cuomo
deserves very special plaudits on a most important count. Though Vinnie
Sirola operates in the rough, tough world of labor politics, Cuomo does
not portray Italian-Americans making "offers that can't be refused," nor
does he write of hoods with Brooklyn accents causing opposing labor leaders
to disappear into the swamp lands of upper New Jersey. In Trial by Water,
one finds no allusion to the mystical, fabled world of organized crime.
Marianna
De Marco Torgovnick. Whereas Cuomo, writing as a novelist from an Italian-American
background, does not give specific indications of the personal effects
of his venturing into a world in which he can be categorized as a member
of the Italian-American ethnic group, Marianna De Marco Torgovnick,
as an essayist, fully records her reactions. In her volume of collected
essays, Crossing
Ocean Parkway (Torgovnick, 1994), she skillfully reports her experiences
as a member of the faculty of The College -- an institution one can easily
recognize as Williams College, located in Williamstown, Massachusetts.
The
overriding identity which Torgovnick shaped as a result of her cultural
conflict is neatly expressed in the title of her volume of essays. As a
female offspring of an Italian-American family in the Bensonhurst section
of Brooklyn, she yearned to cross Ocean Parkway. That crossing would mean
"freedom -- to experiment, to grow, to change" (p. 11). That crossing would
mean separation from the "Italian-Americans in Bensonhurst [who] are notable
for their cohesiveness and provinciality; the slightest pressure turns
those qualities into prejudice and racism" (p. 7). She would move to a
neighborhood where she would have no need to suspect that a travel agency
could be a mafia front! By marrying a Jewish man she would avoid excessive
exposure to the "typical Italian American male pattern," the mastery of
which she ascribes to Camille Paglia: "she's tough, she's brusque, and
when someone challenges or annoys her, she tries to intimidate by flying
into a raving, potentially violent rage" (p. 104). Torgovnick aspired to
the intellectual orientation of the Jewish-Americans with whom she had
become acquainted. She knew that academic superiority awaited her, for,
she told her father, "I have sneaked a peek at my files and know that my
IQ is genius level" (p. 14). By evaluating her experiences in a multi-cultural
ambience in which the attributes of particular ethnic groups were treated
as fixed and "real," she had concluded that "Italian-Americans did not
value girls and especially girls who were good at the kinds of things I
liked -- reading, thinking, and writing" (p. 25). Eventually, she says,
"I recognized destiny: the Jewish man was a passport out of Bensonhurst.
When I married, I of course did marry a Jewish man, who gave me my freedom,
and very important, helped remove me from the expectations of Bensonhurst"
(p. 15). A person who could be categorized as a Jewish man, of course,
embodied identifying attributes that, as everyone "knows," differ from
those of an Italian-American man.
This
removal from Bensonhurst, however, plunged her into the expectations of
a segment of the surrounding population who were regarded as members of
the dominant culture. While in Williamstown,
she and her husband experienced the deep tragedy of the death of their
three-month-old child, who succumbed following major surgery to correct
a birth defect. Perhaps the ritual reaction to tragedy practiced in Italian-American
communities, so thoroughly described by Orsi (1985), had appeared primitive
and naive to someone bent on escaping Bensonhurst. But: "the college town
can be a difficult place to have misfortune or to be unhappy. As if in
a grand Calvinist scheme, good fortune seems to confirm merit; bad fortune
seems to suggest something else, from which people avert their eyes, politely"
(p. 64). After the infant's death, the Torgovnicks received few social
invitations until after the birth of a second child.
Torgovnick
understood fully that the members of The College's community -- the keepers
and purveyors of the locally esteemed cultural perspectives -- had marginalized
her and several other members of non-dominant cultural groups. When she
asked someone about why she and several other persons regarded as members
of non-dominant ethnic groups were often mistakenly identified for each
other, she was informed that each of the women were of darker coloring
and were "exotic" looking -- features which readily allowed their categorization
as members of outgroups. When she applied for tenure she did so knowing
that "the College went out of its way to make it clear who would fit and
who would not" (pp. 68-9), and that, "For some there was an almost systematic
'Other-izing" that was at least partly ethnic" (p. 69). Having been granted
a prestigious fellowship mollified her reaction when she was informed of
the decision about her tenure application. She departed from The College.
Her resolution of the situation: Once again, escape!!
From
Torgovnick's perspective, she could conclude that the ambience of The College
exuded "entitlement, and complacency, insularity, and aversion to rocking
the boat" (p. 62). This construction of the atmosphere of The College sounds
much like the construction she had placed on Bensonhurst -- cohesiveness,
provinciality, prejudice, and racism. The College's prejudiced community,
in contrast to the Bensonhurst community, had the power to couple its rejection
of Torgovnick with impediments to her academic career. To her good fortune,
Torgovnick had developed the kinds of skills, knowledge, and academic respectability
to once again allow "escape" from a prejudiced community.
Torgovnick's
book now appears on many reading lists in courses and seminars devoted
to explorations of the workings of multicultural societies. Assume that
Carmine and Carmella enroll in one of those courses and read these collected
essays. What will they learn about how a person might shape his/her self
presentations when he/she detects that he/she is being regarded as a member
of an "exotic" ethnic group by a member of the most esteemed cultural (ethnic)
group in a community like Williamstown? They can learn, of course, that
one should develop credibility in his/her career community; devise a way
to escape from the necessity of interacting with persons who readily categorize
self and others into "inferior" and "superior" ethnic groups; and then
go on to write articles describing the assumedly negative aspects of benighted
categorizors. By following this course of action, people in ethnic enclaves
such as Bensonhurst and Williamstown might be shamed into agreeing with
the sophisticated writer's negative evaluation of their orientations, so
that the next set of Carmines and Carmellas will enter a world more conducive
to relieving the strains of culture contact!!
By
reading all the essays in Torgovnick's book, they also might learn that
the category systems used by the dominant group to classify Italian-Americans
deserve to survive! Torgovnick's testimony and strong negative valuing
of the Italian-American domus might lend special credibility to those category
systems! She did, after all, tell of her suffering through the consequences
of the conduct of the members of community of her youth! She, nevertheless,
bravely crossed Ocean Parkway and ultimately did earn a professorship on
the faculty of one of the most prestigious universities of in the country.
Why question the authenticity of Torgovnick's descriptions the attributes
that can be assigned to members of the Italian-American community (e. g.,
disdain of intellectual women, violent raging, etc.)? Those descriptions,
after all, confirm the category systems that guided the people of The College
who had marginalized her -- an Italian-American daughter. Why shouldn't
Carmella conclude, after reading Torgovnick's essays, that her parents
deserve shame as much as do the people of The College's community -- that
her parents also should suffer the opprobrium owed to a well-earned reputation
that had been assigned through careful observation of their identifying
features?
Perhaps,
on the other hand, the course instructor who recommends Torgovnick's book
also would arrange experiences which would prompt the students to discover
an alternative formula. Carmella and Carmine surely should be able to develop
an understanding of the basis of the reactions of those with whom they
share the stage. Perhaps, among other achievements, they could develop
a perspective which would encourage them to exercise a measured appreciation
of, rather than a shame of their forebears. Perhaps they would learn to
override simplistic categorization processes and to present that appreciation
to their dialogue partners as they formulate their personal roles. Perhaps
their instructor will replicate the learning environment that was created
by the teachers of Angelo
Pellegrini -- another essayist who originated in an Italian-American
family.
Pellegrini
(1986) reports that by the time he had completed high school, he had discovered
the rich heritage which had been the source of Italian-American immigrant
culture. When he developed the literary skills to do so, he wrote convincing
texts to demonstrate the high value of working class Italian immigrant
culture to the dominant culture by which he was surrounded. Moreover, he
went on to explore and to appreciate the full, rich foundation of the cultural
context enjoyed by even the unschooled contadini who left Italy
to populate the Bensonhursts and North Adamses of The United States. As
he built his outstanding career as a professor of English at The University
of Washington, he could bring to his lectures and writings his extensive
knowledge of Italian luminaries like
Bocaccio,
Poliziano,
Croce,
and Pirandello.
In sum, he asked the surrounding dominant culture to accommodate their
perspectives so that they assimilate some of the values of his cultural
group. Ultimately, his earthy, yet ideologically grounded, essays and lectures,
filled with instructions of how to enjoy the day-to-day pleasures savored
by Italian peasants transplanted to a bountiful land, helped to turn the
city of Seattle into a cosmopolitan and consciously inclusive community.
The
last essay in Torgovnick's book suggests that she will go on to produce
texts that will contain insights such as those which have informed Pellegrini's
writings. In that essay, Torgovnick describes her reactions to attending
her father's funeral in Bensonhurst. There she found "there was something
else taking shape as I contrasted the neighborhood's reaction to my father's
illness with the college town where I had last experienced grief: there
was no embarrassment here, no shunning. Some of the aloofness and reserve
I had cultivated towards the neighbors began to change. I was grateful
for their help, willing to listen politely to their stories in exchange,
giving the ritual kisses and hugs sincerely" (p. 168). Having reported
that reconstruction of the commonly held perspectives of members of the
community in which she was reared and of her role definitions she could
confess that, "All my life I have defined myself by rebellion against Bensonhurst.
But the grounds for rebellion are running out" (p. 174).
David
Simpatico. Another literary work affecting the cross-culture contacts
in the Berkshire area -- a play, written by David
Simpatico, that bears the ugly title
MACS (A Macaroni Requiem)
-- had its premier presentation at The Williamstown Theatre Festival. If
Carmine and Carmella had journeyed over Massachusetts Route 2 to join the
characteristically upscale Festival audience, they would have seen the
portrayal of a family of barely-literate, inconsiderate, and slovenly semi-barbarians
who consistently uttered streams of obscene words within the 60-100 decibel
range.
The
plot of the play reveals the influence of Edward
Albee's Who's
afraid of Virginia Wolfe and Albert Innaurato's Gemini.
Simpatico sets the action within the frame of an extended family that has
gathered to partake of Simpatico's distinctly personal version of a traditional
Italian-American Sunday dinner. (The Theatre actually reeked of over-cooked
garlic!!) Like Albee's play, Simpatico's piece dramatizes a mysterious
death in the family. It takes off on the theme of the father being in total
denial about the death of one son, who was killed during a set of circumstances
that had been stupidly orchestrated by Tonsi, another son, whom Simpatico
portrayed as a total oaf. The lines which Simpatico has written for Dominic,
the sensitive son [like the sensitive son in Gemini?], prepare the
audience to expect that he will bring the father out of his denial, so
that the rest of the family may proceed to grieve. The construction of
grieving which is reflected in the dialogues in this play, while couched
in contemporary jargon, are based on constructions which were familiar
to Paul of Tarsus when he studied Plato 2000 years ago. Nevertheless, as
Simpatico tries to advise the audience of Dominic's superiority to the
semi-barbarians with whom he shares the domicile, he gives him speeches
which embody a series of the current platitudes about grief and grieving.
Dominic pronounces the conventional wisdom which follows from construing
grief as a dynamic, fluid entity that is accumulated as a natural reaction
to particular events, e. g., a death in the family. The father, named Tony
(of course!), must be brought to recognize and to admit his grief state
before he can spill out this "emotional" substance. Tony must eschew denial,
Dominic plaintively tells his mother, so that the family can properly grieve
and then proceed with their lives.
After
a rigmarole of contrived family interaction that plays out this psychobabble,
the father is brought to admit the son's death. The family ostensibly,
intensely, and properly grieves! Life and Loving, the audience may believe,
will resume. However, the ensuing dialogue offers little sign that the
family members will address each other more courteously.
If
Carmine and Carmella would have remained in the audience following the
premier production to hear the discussion between the playwright and the
devotees of The Festival, they would have heard Simpatico aver that his
own family had been the model for the family that he had portrayed. They
would have heard many members of the audience complimenting Simpatico for
his own sensitivity, as reflected in his "masterful" representation of
this "typical" Italian-American family. Carmine and Carmella also would
have heard Simpatico jocularly dismiss members of the audience who protested
that their own lifetime experiences with thousands of Italian-American
families had never brought them into contact with a family that behaved
as crudely and inconsiderately as did the family portrayed in
MACS.
Perhaps
Carmine and Carmella would have wondered why the author had determined
to use an Italian-American family as the vehicle for presenting his fatuous
perspectives on grief and grieving. Some cogitation might have led Carmine
and Carmella to conclude that David Simpatico had aimed his play at all
the prejudicial expectations and stereotypes which the Williamstown audience
would bring to the theater as they tried to categorize members of the Italian-American
ethnic group. A play about emotionality in a Swedish-American family, for
example, just wouldn't do! No one attributes volatile emotionality to persons
who could be categorized as members of the Swedish-American ethnic group.
It would be impossible to lure a Williamstown Theatre audience into believing
that members of the Swedish-American ethnic group would scream at and demean
each other; gather for traditional Sunday dinners featuring parodies of
pasta
that reeks of garlic (as did the stage pasta), and volubly reflect their
emotional status in their interactions. Above all, by tapping into their
category system, Simpatico could lead most of the audience to believe that
a sensitive son -- particularly if that son paints pictures and makes passes
at the sister's fiancé -- would incur the wrath and disdain of his
Italian-American father.
Perhaps
someone would suggest to Carmine and Carmella that David Simpatico had
learned to regard his family as shameful. Carmine and Carmella also might
be able to conclude, from reading Mr. Simpatico's biography in the playbill,
that the playwright has disconnected from some of the central values of
the domus. Just as another writer would allow inferences about his commitments
to the values of the domus by announcing that he is married and the father
of three teen-aged children, Simpatico allows the readers of his biography
to infer commitments that would be negatively valued in the Italian-American
domus. The biography in the playbill, for example, tells us that "David
lives with his lover, best friend and editor-in-chief, Robert Strickstein."
Such information forewarns those in audience who also are members of the
domus that Simpatico and his play's sensitive artist are unlikely to live
out some of the core values of the domus: heterosexual monogamy and the
creation of children who carry on the names of grandparents. It is easy
to conclude that like the sensitive son-as-protagonist in the play, David
Simpatico is the sensitive antagonist to the Italian-American domus represented
in the stereotypic images presented to The Williamstown Theatre Festival.
Carmine
might gain further understanding of the nature of such culture confrontations
were he to inquire about the decisions to stage Simpatico's script. Interviews
with persons associated with The Williamstown Theatre Festival indicate
that no Italian-Americans, other than Simpatico, provided input about how
Italian-Americans might react to the play. One prominent North Adams Italian-American
woman, who has been closely associated with The Festival and with the nearby
Clark Institute of Art, indicated that no one had approached her to request
her assessment of Simpatico's drama. She stated that the family in the
play did not represent, in any way, families with whom she has been acquainted.
There are no Italian-Americans on the board of The Festival. When asked
why this is the case, the informant responded that there would be little
reason to assure such representation. That informant indicated, however,
that the board considered it important to have an Afro-American on the
panel, in order to satisfy funding agencies. Who made the decision to choose
this play for staging? The person who ultimately directed the staging had
been a friend of both Simpatico and a previous producer of The Festival.
The Festival's staff made the production decision on "artistic grounds."
Unlike
Torgovnick, Simpatico gives no indication that he will ever choose to contribute
to a measured appreciation for Italian-American culture. After seeing
MACS one would consider it safe to predict that he will continue to
cry out the deficiencies of the Italian-American domus by affirming the
validity of the stereotypic representations which have been used repeatedly
to convince the offspring of Italian-American immigrants to look upon their
forebears as shameful. As such, his work can do little to diminish the
strains which Carmine and Carmella will experience when they venture out
of their North Adams community to interact with the practicioners of "rustic
chic" who inhabit the Berkshire communities.
Before
his untimely death, A. (Angelo) Bartlett Giamatti wrote, "Without a tradition,
millennia long, of a culture whose apogee was a scholar/official class
and whose base was a unifying, written language, like the Chinese; without
a history of dispersion whose agonies were solved by an ancient sacred
language and by religious texts and commentaries, like the Jews, the mass
of Italian immigrants respected education but had little of it; they knew
work and trusted it" (Giamatti, 1986, p. 23). Assuming these observations
to be valid, one readily understands the general inaccessibility of Italian-American
writings which have offered a balanced view of the great Italy-to-The-United-States
Avventura.
That inaccessibility is particularly apparent as one attempts to search
out literary works which might be regarded as artistic, rather than expository.
That contemporary writers of the stature of Frank
Lentricchia, George Cuomo, Marianna Torgovnick, and Fred
Gardaphé undertake to lay out such representations, over one
hundred years after the first waves of the Avventurieri arrived,
reveals the character of the Italian-American commitment to producing and
supporting such works. One must conclude that the need for such work survives.
Fortunately, vigorous Italian-Americans have engaged the task of assuring
that the control of the flow of such work allows a fair portrayal of their
dignified, diligent, and challenged forebears. Carmine and Carmella, one
can hope, will have the opportunity to study balanced characterizations
as they work toward developing their identities relative to their ethnic
backgrounds.
Bill
Tonelli (1994) might find a bright side to the loss of an Italian-American
identity among other Americans who bear his surname. "And if there's a
trade-off, it's our job to accept it like adults -- if we have to live
with a little anomie, a little alienation, a little isolation, loneliness,
existential anxiety, rootlessness, then fine" (p. 254). Future aliens,
including those aliens who constantly emerge within existing cultures,
might take comfort from accepting Tonelli's upbeat claim that a general
positive state has resulted from this mass Italian-American effort to show
that they can assimilate the perspectives of the dominant culture of The
USA. They might be seduced into endorsing Tonelli's hope that when ethnic
differences fade away "the world will get some peace and quiet" (p. 254).
This hope, of course, depends, in good part, on how easily people can be
convinced that someone can find a way to demonstrate the absolute truths
of particular perspectives - how willingly "aliens" will accept the validity
of such truth claims. The truly amazing part of the story of the descendants
of the Italian immigrants has been the peacefulness with which they have
accepted the demands that they assimilate the broader culture of The USA.
An understanding of that amazing history requires an understanding of the
personal stories of pain that might have festered as George Cuomo worked
his way toward writing Trial by water; and which lay behind the
blatant pleas for validation which infuse the writings of Marianna De Marco
Torgovnick and David Simpatico. Further, we need to develop an understanding
of how the imagery produced by these writers might have influenced Carmine
and Carmella to adopt self role definitions that would allow them to convince
others that they should not be categorized as a member of the Italian-American
ethnic group.
Having
raised these considerations, let us return to the specific dilemmas that
might confront Carmine and Carmella as venturers (person who interact in
a social context in which they and others categorize self and each other
as members of an ethnic group ). To what sources might today's Carmine
and Carmella turn in order to build a perceptual frame within which to
regard the interactions they would have with others who could use the category
ethnic
group and its subordinate categories, e. g. Italian-American ethnic
group. From where would they learn a perspective which would allow
them to operate effectively in the kind of social contexts that would occur
regularly in the area around North Adams and Williamstown, Massachusetts?
What would they find if they turned to three recent literary efforts which
have brought into focus contact between venturers? Three writers recently
described the interactions of venturers in the Berkshire area. George Cuomo
(1992) used that region as the setting for his eighth novel, Trial by
Water. Marianna
De Marco Torgovnick (1994) published a collection of essays,
Crossing
Ocean Parkway: Readings by an Italian-American Daughter. One piece
describes Torgovnick's experiences as a young assistant professor at Williams
College. A third relevant literary event occurred when Williamstown
Theatre Festival produced MACS:
A Macaroni Requiem, by David
Simpatico (1996). Would a study of this literature written by Italian-Americans
direct Carmine and Carmella to a reasoned view of their roles in a drama
of cultural contact like that playing out in the ambience of Williamstown/North
Adams communities?
Write Guides for Italian-American Venturers
Italian-American shall be Presented.
References
Acton, Harold (1956). The Bourbons of Naples (1734-1825), London: Methuen.
Banfield, E. C. (1958). The moral basis of a backward society. New York: Free Press.
Covello, Leonard (with Guido D'Agostino) (1958). The heart is the teacher. New York: McGraw-Hill.
Cubberley, Ellwood P. (1913). Changing conceptions of education. Boston: Houghton Mifflin.
Cuomo, George (1983). Family Honor. New York: Doubleday.
Cuomo, George (1993). Trial by water. New York: Random House
Di Donato, P. (1939). Christ in concrete. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill.
Giamatti, A. Bartlett (1987). Commentary. In A. Shoener (Editor), The Italian Americans. New York: Macmillan.
Orsi, Robert A. (1986). The Madonna of 115th Street: Faith and community in Italian Harlem, 1880-1950. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Parker, Robert B. (1190). Stardust. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.
Puzo, Mario (1969). The Godfather. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.
Torgovnick, Marianna De Marco (1994). Crossing Ocean Parkway/Readings by an Italian American Daughter, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Simpatico, David (1996) MACS: A macaroni requiem. Williamstown, MA: A play produced on the Williamstown Theatre Festival's Other Stage.
Stonequist, E. V. (1937). The marginal man: A study in personality and culture conflict. New York: Russell & Russell.
Talese, Gay (1971). Honor thy father. New York: Nelson, Foster, & Scott.
Talese, Gay (1992). Unto the Sons. New York: Knopf.
Tonelli, Bill (1994 ). The amazing story of the Tonelli family in America. Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley.
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. The author, Jim Mancuso died on June 10th, 2005. We maintain this site in memory of all the things that he did for us. |
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