The day before the festa there came a professor of pedagogy, and Peppino
was not best pleased to see him because he knew him as a jettatore. I
had supposed this word to mean a person with the evil eye who causes
misfortunes to others, but he used it in the sense of one who causes
misfortunes to himself or, at least, who is always in trouble--a man who
is constitutionally unfortunate, the sort of man with whom Napoleon would
have nothing to do. He will miss his train more often than not; if he
has to attend a funeral it will be when he has a cold in his head, and
all his white pocket-handkerchiefs will be at the wash, so that he must
use a coloured one; he will attempt to take his medicine in the dark,
thereby swallowing the liniment by mistake. Of course, this kind of man
is incidentally disastrous to others as well as to himself and is,
therefore, also a jettatore in the other sense, so that Napoleon was
quite right.
The arrival of the professor led Peppino into giving me a great deal of
information about the evil eye in which he swore he did not believe. It
was all rather indefinite and contradictory, partly, no doubt, because
those who believe in it most firmly are the analfabeti and unaccustomed
to express themselves clearly.
The prevailing idea seems to be that an evil influence proceeds from the
eye of the jettatore who is not necessarily a bad person, at least he
need not be desirous of hurting any one. The misfortunes that follow
wherever he goes may be averted by the interposition of some attractive
object whereby the glance from his eye is arrested, and either the
misfortune does not happen at all, or the force of the evil influence is
expended elsewhere. Therefore, it is as well always to carry some charm
against the evil eye. All over Italy, but especially in the south, it is
rare to meet a man who does not carry a charm, either on his watch-chain
or in his pocket, or on a string or a chain round his neck under his
clothes, and he usually carries more than one. Women, of course, always
wear them, which may be because a woman likes to surround herself with
pretty things, and, if she can say that they protect her, she has a
reason, unconnected with vanity, which she may be apt to profess is her
true reason for wearing ornaments. The same applies to men who, though
less in the habit of wearing ornaments, are, as has been often remarked,
no less vain than women. This may be called the ornamental view and may
account for some of the fashions that arise in the wearing of charms.
But there is also the utilitarian view, and a new form of charm will
sometimes become popular, just as a new sanctuary becomes popular,
because it is reported to have been effective in some particular case.
Probably no change of fashion will ever banish horns made of coral or
mother-of-pearl; being pointed, they are supposed to attract and break up
the evil glance as a lightning conductor is supposed to attract and break
up a flash of lightning.
Peppino was very contemptuous about all charms and coral horns
especially. Even assuming that horns in a general way are prophylactic,
it is no use having them made of coral or mother-of-pearl and wearing
them on one's watch-chain, because the Padre Eterno, when he designed the
human form, was careful to provide man with natural means of making horns
so that the evil eye might be averted during the period that would have
to elapse before the wearing of ornaments became customary. We can still
benefit by this happy forethought if we are threatened with the evil eye
when divested of all our charms--when bathing for instance. The pope,
Pio Nono, was believed to have the evil eye, and pious pilgrims asking
his blessing used, at the same time, to take the precaution of protecting
themselves from his malign influence by pointing two fingers at him under
their clothes.
Inanimate things, of course, cannot be said literally to have the evil
eye, but many of them cause misfortunes. A hearse is a most unlucky
thing to meet when it is empty. Peppino says--
"If you shall meet the carriage of the dead man and it is empty, perhaps
it shall be coming to take you; this is not a good thing and then must
you be holding the horn in the hand. But if the dead man shall be riding
in his carriage, then certainly this time it shall not be for you and the
horn it is necessary not at all. This is what they believe."
He did not mean that you are bound to die if you see an empty hearse, but
that unless you take precautions you will certainly meet with some kind
of misfortune. I should say that the professor meets an empty hearse
every day of his life. He came up to Castellinaria, not knowing there
was to be a festa, found every place full and spent the night wandering
about the streets. It was impossible not to be sorry for the poor man
when I found him the following afternoon dozing on a chair in the kitchen
and, in a fit of expansiveness, I offered him the other bed in my room.
He accepted it with gratitude and said he should retire early as he was
too much fatigued to care about religious festivities.
Peppino took the earliest opportunity of blowing me up for this, saying
that it was most dangerous to sleep with a jettatore in the room. I told
him I did not believe in all that nonsense any more than he did and we
had a long discussion which he ended by producing a coral horn from his
pocket, saying the professor might have the other bed if I would wear the
coral all night. Of course I chaffed him about having the horn in his
pocket after his protestations of disbelief, but it was like talking to a
kitten that has been caught stealing fish and I had to take his charm and
promise to conform on the ground that one cannot be too careful.
The procession, which was the climax of the festa, did not begin till
11.30 P.M. and was not over till 3.30 the next morning. On returning to
the albergo I found the professor still dozing on his chair, undisturbed
by the constant chatter of all the servants and their friends. He had
not gone to bed because the padrone, Peppino's father, with the key of my
room in his pocket, had gone out early in the evening and got lost in the
crowd, so there were both my beds wasted and nothing to be done but to
make the best of it. I settled myself on a chair in a corner and wished
for day. Whereupon, almost immediately, Peppino, who, though I did not
know it till afterwards, had been keeping near me and watching me all
night in case I might meet the evil eye among the people, came in and the
discussion rose into a tumult of dialect, as the situation was made clear
to him, and then sank into complete silence which was broken by his
suddenly saying to me--
"You wish to sleep? All right. I show you the bed. Come on."
He preceded me up some back stairs into a room occupied by a lady in one
bed, her female attendant in another and, in various shakedowns on the
floor, another woman, two men and more children than I could count by the
light of one candle. We picked our way among them to the farther end of
the room where there was a door. Peppino produced a key and opened it;
to my surprise it led into my room.
"Buon riposo," said Peppino, and was about to disappear the way we had
come when I reminded him that the professor was to have the other bed. I
had some difficulty with him, but when I had hung his coral round my neck
he gave way.
After this I saw a great deal of the professor. He said he was
forty-five and he was perhaps the most simple-minded, gentle creature I
have ever known. Being with him was like listening to a child strumming
on a worn-out piano. As we sat down to dinner next day he asked if he
could have a little carbonate of soda. Peppino, with a glance at the
bill of fare, regretted that there was none in the house. The professor
then explained to me the advantages of taking carbonate of soda before
meals and said that some chemists gave one an enormous quantity for two
soldi. Evidently the professor had not a good digestion. He helped me
with his own fork to a piece of meat off his own plate. This is a mark
of very great friendliness and makes me think of Joseph entertaining his
brethren when they went down to buy corn in Egypt.
"And he took and sent messes unto them from before him; but Benjamin's
mess was five times so much as any of theirs."
And I think of Menelaus in the _Odyssey_ sending a piece of meat to
Telemachus and Pisistratus when they supped with him at Lacedaemon; and
of Ulysses, at supper in the palace of Alcinous, sending a piece of meat
to Demodocus to thank him for his singing, in spite of the pain his lays
had caused him.
I always accept the gift, after deprecating the honour with words and
gestures, and a little later, in accordance with what I believe to be the
modern practice, return the compliment.
The professor was pleased to have an opportunity of improving his
knowledge of England and asked me many questions. I am afraid he only
pretended to believe some of the things I told him. I said that in
England a man who is the proprietor of the house he lives in is not on
that account necessarily a rich man; he may or may not be, it all
depends. He was surprised to hear that I had travelled from London to
Castellinaria in less than three weeks; that the channel passage takes
under twelve hours and has been known to be smooth; that London is not
actually on the coast but a few miles inland and on a river; that we have
other towns even more inland and that after the death of Queen Victoria,
England did not become a republic.
I had the professor at a disadvantage because, being a Sicilian, his
natural politeness would not permit him to show that in his opinion I was
drawing upon my imagination after the manner of travellers. Moreover
Peppino declared that all I said was quite true and added that what in
Sicily is like this (holding his hand out with the palm upwards) in
England is like that (holding it with the palm downwards). Nevertheless
I was beginning to feel that I had gone far enough and had better be
careful, so when he asserted that England refuses Home Rule to New
Zealand, and grinds her colonies down under the iron heel of the
oppressor because she cannot afford to lose the amount they pay us in our
iniquitous income tax, I did not contradict him. It is possible that I
misunderstood him, or he may have guessed I did not agree, or there may
have been even more confusion in his mind than I suspected, for he
afterwards said that the income tax paid by the colonies went into the
private pocket of Mr. Chamberlain, and that explained why the Secretary
for the Colonies was so rich.
"My dear professor," I said, "permit me to tell you something; my poor
mother had a cousin whose name was James. He was perhaps the most
simple-minded, gentle creature I have ever known. Being with him was
like listening to--well, it was like listening to certain kinds of music.
He lived by himself in the country, with an old woman to do for him, and
was over sixty before we came to know him; then we were all very fond of
him and often wondered what the dear, good old gentleman could have been
like in his early days. It has just occurred to me that you, sir, are
like what cousin James must have been at your age."
He was overwhelmed; his eyes filled with tears; he said he should
remember for all his life the flattering words he had just heard; they
constituted the most pleasing and genteel compliment he had ever
received; he shook hands with me and remained silent as a sign that his
emotion was too deep for more words.