taly may seem like the most European of countries. Its capital
was that of an empire that encompassed all but the remotest corners of the
continent. Italy gave
us the Renaissance and the foundations of modern western culture. Rome was the
city chosen for the signing of the European Union’s founding treaty.
A lot of outsiders – content to visit
its museums, to holiday in placid Umbria and cultured Tuscany – are happy to
leave it at that. Yet there are parts of Italy and aspects of its society that
are as exotic and unfamiliar as if they came from the Middle or Far East.
Where else in Europe do you find an
organised crime syndicate like the ‘ndrangheta, which uses rites that are
grotesque parodies of Roman Catholic liturgy? Or a town such as Matera where, until the 1950s, much of the
population lived in caves? Or a dish like pajata, made
from the only partially cleaned intestines of milk-fed calves? Where but in
Italy could an entire sentence-worth of meaning be conveyed with a single hand
gesture?
It is eternally deceptive; a country in
which much is said by means of symbols, or simply left unsaid. So, with the
possible exception of the last, the books that follow are ones that scratch at
the reassuring surface of Italian life to get at the infinitely more fascinating
reality below. None more purposefully than …
1. The
Italians by Luigi Barzini
Still in print 50 years after publication, outdated in parts, yet full of insights into the Italian psyche, which are as apt today as they were in 1964: “Dull and insignificant moments in life must be made decorous and agreeable with suitable decorations and rituals. Ugly things must be hidden, unpleasant and tragic facts swept under the carpet whenever possible.” Or, more sardonically and pertinently in the context of Italy’s current economic plight: “free competition, this selection which heartlessly favours only uncouth and rough persons whose only merits are those of passing tests, doing their job well and knowing their business, is naturally resented by most Italians”.
Still in print 50 years after publication, outdated in parts, yet full of insights into the Italian psyche, which are as apt today as they were in 1964: “Dull and insignificant moments in life must be made decorous and agreeable with suitable decorations and rituals. Ugly things must be hidden, unpleasant and tragic facts swept under the carpet whenever possible.” Or, more sardonically and pertinently in the context of Italy’s current economic plight: “free competition, this selection which heartlessly favours only uncouth and rough persons whose only merits are those of passing tests, doing their job well and knowing their business, is naturally resented by most Italians”.
2. An
Italian Education by Tim Parks
Less popular and humorous than his best-selling Italian Neighbours, Parks’s sequel does more than any book I know to explain how Italians become Italians. The title is inaccurate: it is not about schooling, and ought really to have been called An Italian Upbringing. Wonderfully perceptive on relations between and within the generations: “When a mother calls out Amore without further specification, she is calling for her son.”
Less popular and humorous than his best-selling Italian Neighbours, Parks’s sequel does more than any book I know to explain how Italians become Italians. The title is inaccurate: it is not about schooling, and ought really to have been called An Italian Upbringing. Wonderfully perceptive on relations between and within the generations: “When a mother calls out Amore without further specification, she is calling for her son.”
3. Cosi
Fan Tutti by Michael Dibdin
All the Aurelio Zen novels give an unblinkered, yet fundamentally sympathetic, view of Italy. I picked this one because it is set in Naples, a city that deserves Dibdin’s mixture of cynicism and affection more than any other. What makes his whodunnits special is that his hero is usually trying not to solve a crime (because to do so would be politically and/or personally inconvenient), but always succeeds in doing so.
All the Aurelio Zen novels give an unblinkered, yet fundamentally sympathetic, view of Italy. I picked this one because it is set in Naples, a city that deserves Dibdin’s mixture of cynicism and affection more than any other. What makes his whodunnits special is that his hero is usually trying not to solve a crime (because to do so would be politically and/or personally inconvenient), but always succeeds in doing so.
For perspective. Levi’s description of the part of southern
Italy to which he was exiled under Mussolini is a reminder of the appalling
poverty from which many Italian families emerged during Italy’s “economic
miracle”, little more than 50 years ago. Also a good antidote to the stereotype
of “Catholic Italy”: “There’s no grace of God in this village,” says its
drunken priest. “I say my mass to empty benches.”
6. Midnight in Sicily by Peter Robb
Only partly about Sicily; more an exploration of the corrupt dynamics of Christian Democracy enlivened by digressions into the art, literature and gastronomy of the Mezzogiorno. Ideally read in conjunction with Paul Ginsborg’s masterly History of Contemporary Italy: Society and Politics 1943-1988.
Only partly about Sicily; more an exploration of the corrupt dynamics of Christian Democracy enlivened by digressions into the art, literature and gastronomy of the Mezzogiorno. Ideally read in conjunction with Paul Ginsborg’s masterly History of Contemporary Italy: Society and Politics 1943-1988.
7. The
Sack of Rome by Alexander Stille
It is striking how many books about Italy have deceptive titles. This one is really a biography of Silvio Berlusconi. It suffered from being published in 2006 when the media tycoon had just lost an election and his political career seemed over. The Sack of Rome pre-dates Bunga Bunga, but foreshadows it, and remains the most penetrating exploration of the doings of the man who, more than any, has shaped the outlook of today’s Italians: “Berlusconi believes that the world revolves him – the ultimate narcissistic fantasy – but he has bent reality to fit his fantasy, so that much of life in Italy does indeed revolve around him.”
It is striking how many books about Italy have deceptive titles. This one is really a biography of Silvio Berlusconi. It suffered from being published in 2006 when the media tycoon had just lost an election and his political career seemed over. The Sack of Rome pre-dates Bunga Bunga, but foreshadows it, and remains the most penetrating exploration of the doings of the man who, more than any, has shaped the outlook of today’s Italians: “Berlusconi believes that the world revolves him – the ultimate narcissistic fantasy – but he has bent reality to fit his fantasy, so that much of life in Italy does indeed revolve around him.”
8. The
Oxford Companion to Italian Food by Gillian Riley
What sort of a list of books on Italy would lack one on food? The only reason not to buy Riley’s 636-page dictionary-cum-encyclopedia is doubt about the strength of your bookshelves. Authoritative (it won an Italian award) and written with an eye for anecdote, it can just as profitably be browsed for pleasure as consulted for information.
What sort of a list of books on Italy would lack one on food? The only reason not to buy Riley’s 636-page dictionary-cum-encyclopedia is doubt about the strength of your bookshelves. Authoritative (it won an Italian award) and written with an eye for anecdote, it can just as profitably be browsed for pleasure as consulted for information.
9. Calcio:
a History of Italian Football by John Foot
What sort of a list of books on Italy would lack one on soccer? This is another compendious yet entertainingly written volume. Calcio begins with the foundation by the British in 1893 of the Genoa Cricket and Football Club (from which Italians were banned), but then advances thematically with chapters on everything from the referees to the fans and from fantasisti to football’s intimate entanglement with Italian politics.
What sort of a list of books on Italy would lack one on soccer? This is another compendious yet entertainingly written volume. Calcio begins with the foundation by the British in 1893 of the Genoa Cricket and Football Club (from which Italians were banned), but then advances thematically with chapters on everything from the referees to the fans and from fantasisti to football’s intimate entanglement with Italian politics.
10. Italian
Journey 1786-88 by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I had thought of leaving this out on the grounds that it tells us more about Goethe than Italy. But it is one of the first accounts – and the most beautiful – of how the chaotic, impulsive, sensual south seduces we ratiocinating northerners, making Goethe, the creative outsider, “feel at home in the world, neither a stranger nor an exile”.
I had thought of leaving this out on the grounds that it tells us more about Goethe than Italy. But it is one of the first accounts – and the most beautiful – of how the chaotic, impulsive, sensual south seduces we ratiocinating northerners, making Goethe, the creative outsider, “feel at home in the world, neither a stranger nor an exile”.
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