I just finished reading Christopher Castellani’s excellent trilogy chronicling the life of a fictitious Italian American family. The first novel, A Kiss from Maddalena, published in 2003 takes place during the nineteen forties as World War Two rages on. The location is Santa Cecilia, one of those many small towns in Italy where opportunities were few to come by, except if one was lucky enough to leave for the “New World”, especially America. The main character is Maddalena, a beautiful blonde who forsakes marriage with her true love to marry Antonio, a fellow villager visiting from America, who persuades her to accompany him to Wilmington, Delaware. For those of us like myself born to immigrant parents, it’s a way for us to imagine what our parents must have been like as teenagers and young adults. We see the lack of social mobility, the poverty, and the importance of family, whether in regard to parents or siblings. Life was hard in these small villages, but there was romance and besides which our parents were young, healthy, and full of hope.
The second novel, The Saint of Lost Things, published in 2005, has the Grasso family settled in Wilmington’s Little Italy. Like other immigrants, whether in the U.S., Argentina, or Canada, the Italians attempted as best as they could to recreate a little piece of home within certain geographic limits. This allowed them to have their bakeries, grocery stores, and cafes, but it also meant a certain distrust of “the other”, those other people with strange and unfamiliar ways. Castellani describes the struggles and the blue collar jobs they occupied. But he also brings to life the card and bocce games, not to mention feasts and great dinners. These were communities where people knew their next door neighbours, and where most people travelled by bus. A car was a luxury and suburbia with its very private neighbourhoods was just getting started. The second novel has Antonio Grasso, the family patriarch, start the Al Di La restaurant with his brother Mario. He leaves a secure but dead end job to do so. The restaurant does well, and before you know it the family leaves for the leafy suburbs of Wilmington.
“All This Talk of Love”, published in 2013, has the Grasso family living in the suburbs, along with other hyphenated Americans, like the Irish and the Poles. For Antonio and his wife, Maddelena, suburbia is both comforting and somewhat strange. Gone are all the Italian institutions. So they drive back to the old neighbourhood for whatever Italian produce they need. But suddenly the old neighbourhood looks strangely unfamiliar to Antonio. The Italians are gone and replaced by “the other”. By this time, Prima, their only daughter, is happily married to Tom Buckley, whose Irish descendants have been in America since the early 19th century. But he’s Catholic and like many non-Italians who marry into our tribe he immediately becomes assimilated. What’s not to like? The In-Laws are totally dedicated to their grandchildren and they treat him like Royalty despite all the teasing. Prima and Tom have several children, and one of them, Ryan Buckley, is chosen by Antonio to be the future owner of the AL Di La restaurant. Like most grandchildren of Italian immigrants, Ryan doesn’t speak a word of Italian but he retains his grandparents’ better qualities. He understands the concept of “la bella figura” without really understanding it, and Antonio believes he’s the most qualified member of his family to honour the restaurant’s traditions and reputation.
But I’m jumping ahead. Antonio and Maria Grasso had three children: Tony, Prima, and Frankie. Tony we only know of from recollections, his misfortune having been to be born with a certain “condition” which his parents are not able to accept until it’s too late. Prima marries Tom Buckley and they go on to have a family of their own. All their boys are solidly All-American types. By this time the Italian fabric of the Grasso family has become almost totally Americanized, as happens to most grandchildren of immigrants. But by far the most interesting of the three is Frankie, whose valiantly attempting to finish his PHD at a Boston area University. Frankie is the most mysterious of the three to his parents. He’s in his late twenties and he’s not yet finished school, married or even dating. They’re proud of his inclination towards higher education, but they don’t really understand what he’s training for. Will he be assured of a job once he’s finished? Will he get a job in Wilmington and eventually get married? Is he eating and taking care of himself? Boston to the Grassos might as well be in another country. They communicate regularly by telephone, each conversation as if the first in months. It almost seems like a state affair! But hearing his voice assures his parents that all is well. Of course they’re not aware that he’s sleeping with the very Waspish Professor Birch who can at times come across as patronizing.
So why should this wonderful trilogy be read? We live in an age where millions of people around the world are emigrating in search, like the Grassos, of a better life. There’s no melodrama in these novels and the Mother country is treated for what it was: a beautiful place that had personal romance, mystery, and hardships. It reminds us of where so many of us come from without glorifying the Old Country. We see the choices that so many immigrants continue to make. Castellani gives these people context and in so doing renders them more human. These immigrants are seen for what they were and continue to be: naïve but incredibly brave with dreams and aspirations. Castellani does not go into outlining the great achievements immigrants have given their adopted countries. But we can with a little bit of imagination imagine them building the Brooklyn Bridge and New York’s subway system.
And lastly, there’s a selfish reason for reading this. For those of us like Frankie Grasso lucky enough to be born in two worlds, it allows us to reminisce about those great Sunday meals which seem like a million years ago. They bring to mind animated conversations where there was never even the remotest chance of some mutual understanding. But so what? Better to have a little bit of conflict and at least know where you come from. Total harmony can be both boring and uninspiring.
Of course no Hollywood Producer will ever likely bring these pages to the Silver Screen. There’s none of the violence so often associated with immigrant life. The stories are also complex and too real. Absent is any sense of persecution. Nor is this a rags to riches story. What you get instead is a moving story of simple people trying to make the best of it. This trilogy should be read by future generations seeking to attain a truer understanding of the immigrant experience.