Norman Douglas's 'Old Calabria' is a captivating travelogue that provides a detailed exploration of the region of Calabria in southern Italy. Written in a lyrical and descriptive style, the book not only paints a vivid picture of the landscapes, people, and culture of the region, but also delves into the history and folklore that make Calabria unique. Douglas's keen observations and witty anecdotes add depth to the narrative, making it an engaging read for history buffs and travel enthusiasts alike. Set in the early 20th century, 'Old Calabria' offers a glimpse into a world that has since undergone significant changes, making it a valuable historical document as well as a literary gem. Norman Douglas's own experiences as a traveler and scholar likely inspired him to write this insightful and poetic account of Calabria, showcasing his deep appreciation for the region's charm and complexity. For readers seeking a rich and informative travel narrative that transcends time, 'Old Calabria' comes highly recommended.
Travel author Norman Douglas shares his experiences and photographs of Calabria, a beautiful and historic yet secluded region of rural Italy, as it was at the turn of the 20th century. A wonderful guide to a region home to breathtaking landscapes and ancient ruins, Old Calabria contains many details of the region and is described from a perspective of the eloquent and well-informed author. The manners of the locals, the customs and appearance of their villages and farmsteads, and the agriculture of the countryside, are narrated evocatively. Over the centuries Calabria has received migrants from Asia, Africa and elsewhere, and the profile of the people - who clearly descend from these migrants - that Douglas has much interest. The cultural and religious customs of Calabria are shown to have evolved somewhat in isolation to the rest of Italy, and life is shown to move slowly and place great emphasis upon traditions and the Roman Catholic faith.
First published in 1915, Old Calabria is a comprehensive and exciting account of adventure travel. Captivated by the pagan quality of the mezzogiorno, Norman Douglas plunged into Calabria, the southernmost and most backward part of Italy (a province that was still largely devoid of any form of modern amenity). He endured extremes of climate, scaled mountains, rode in carriages driven by villainous coachmen, and traversed remote stretches of country where murderous groups of banditti were known to roam. As Jon Manchip White points out in his introduction, it "makes good reading, but it must have constituted a protracted and frightening ordeal--frightening, that is, to anyone except someone like Douglas, possessed of a more than normal share of guts and fortitude."
An effortlessly artful blend of travel book, memoir, and affectionate portrait of a people Calabria is the toe of the boot that is Italy—a rugged peninsula where grapevines and fig and olive trees cling to the mountainsides during the scorching summers while the sea crashes against the cliffs on both coasts. Calabria is also a seedbed of Italian American culture; in North America, more people of Italian heritage trace their roots to Calabria than to almost any other region in Italy. Mark Rotella's Stolen Figs is a marvelous evocation of Calabria and Calabrians, whose way of life is largely untouched by the commerce that has made Tuscany and Umbria into international tourist redoubts. A grandson of Calabrian immigrants, Rotella persuades his father to visit the region for the first time in thirty years; once there, he meets Giuseppe, a postcard photographer who becomes his guide to all things Calabrian. As they travel around the region, Giuseppe initiates Rotella—and the reader—into its secrets: how to make soppressata and 'nduja, where to find hidden chapels and grottoes, and, of course, how to steal a fig without actually committing a crime. Stolen Figs is a model travelogue—at once charming and wise, and full of the earthy and unpretentious sense of life that, now as ever, characterizes Calabria and its people.
The nature of traditional Mediterranean societies and the effect on them brought about in the twentieth century, has long been debated; but in general stem from an assumption of the relatively homogenous nature of traditional peasant society. Pino Arlacchi demolishes that assumption by demonstrating that within the Italian region of Calabria there existed not one but a range of 'traditional' societies.
Calabrian Tales is a unique story of inexplicable injustice and poverty, avarice and survival based on true family incidents that were revealed to the author in his youth. The book's chief character is the author's great aunt, Marianna, who became the mistress of a wealthy noble. The lifestyle she adopted repeatedly shamed her relatives until living in Italy became unbearable for them. Eventually, the author's father, Raffaele, fled his beloved Italy in the face of constant shame, and settled in the U.S. His son, author Peter Chiarella, grew up in the Bedford Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn. There he heard the stories about life in Calabria from his grandmother, a principal character in the book. After her death, the stories kept coming, both from his father, also a character in Calabrian Tales, and from his mother, who had listened in on Nonna's recollections over a period of fifteen years. The stories of people who lived in what may have been Italy's poorest region, blend with the historical struggles of the times in a combination reminiscent of certain aspects of The Godfather and the ignoble humanity of Angela's Ashes. "Twenty-two unforgettable personalities interplay in this picaresque page turner. Each one will fascinate you uniquely." -- Anthony Kilgallin, author of Napa Valley Picture Perfect "Calabrian Tales evokes the memory of stories I heard growing up among elder Italian immigrants." -- James L. D'Adamo, author of The D'Adamo Diet "A most intriguing and compelling read." -- Joseph D. Sabella, MD
Excerpt from Old Calabria I Find it hard to sum up in one word the character of Lucera - the effect it produces on the mind; one sees so many towns that the freshness of their images becomes blurred. The houses are low but not undignified; the streets regular and clean; there is electric light and somewhat indifferent accommodation for travellers; an infinity of barbers and chemists. Nothing remarkable in all this. Yet the character is there, if one could but seize upon it, since every place has its genius. Perhaps it lies in a certain feeling of aloofness that never leaves one here. We are on a hill - a mere wave of ground; a kind of spur, rather, rising up from the south - quite an absurd little hill, but sufficiently high to dominate the wide Apulian plain. And the nakedness of the land stimulates this aerial sense. There are some trees in the "Belvedere" or public garden that lies on the highest part of the spur and affords a fine view north and eastwards. But the greater part were only planted a few years ago, and those stretches of brown earth, those half-finished walks and straggling pigmy shrubs, give the place a crude and embryonic appearance. One thinks that the designers might have done more in the way of variety; there are no conifers excepting a few cryptomerias and yews which will all be dead in a couple of years, and as for those yuccas, beloved of Italian municipalities, they will have grown more dyspeptic-looking than ever. None the less, the garden will be a pleasant spot when the ilex shall have grown higher; even now it is the favourite evening walk of the citizens. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
Calabria is not a guide to Calabria but rather a book about Calabria. Since 1777, when Henry Swinburne, first travelled in Calabria in search of Magna Græcia (Calabria's Greek heritage), and then wrote about his experiences, there have been a further dozen travellers, including one woman, who have written travelogues in English (as opposed to travel guides) about Italy's remote toe. Some, like Edward Lear, George Gissing and Norman Douglas, became well-known literary figures in other fields but most were just educated people with time on their hands for whom travelling in the south of Italy was a huge adventure, perhaps fuelled by the adrenalin of the pioneer. What also made them different is that they shared their experiences: frequently with humour, usually with empathy, occasionally with arrogance but always with the curiosity and insight of the traveller, as opposed to the tourist. Until Italian unification (1860), Calabria was part of the Two Sicilies, the largest and wealthiest part of the Italian peninsula which included the regions south of Naples (the capital) and Sicily itself. Because of its remoteness and lack of an adequate transport infrastructure it was-and to some extent still is-viewed as an inhospitable and unappealing place, home to brigands and bandits and incoherent natives of doubtful ancestry. Post-unification, Calabria remained a place that few had heard of, still fewer visited; even the most recent such traveller, Henry Morton, was not unaware that, even in 1967, he was breaking new ground. Because such travelogues have never been viewed as historical sources in themselves, sometimes the writers' first-hand experiences throw new light on accepted, home-grown, myths about the region, such as the deaths of Alaric the Goth and Joachim Murat, the Fratelli Bandiera escapade and the brigand Musolino myth. While occasionally Calabria retells Calabrian history it is, above all else, a fusion of the experiences and impressions of thirteen travelling pioneers alongside those of the author, himself a traveller to Calabria, albeit one who stayed, made it his home and has immersed himself in its past and its present and its present and will be a part of its future. It is worth repeating that Calabria is not a guide to Calabria but rather a book about Calabria: written with empathy, insight and wit, Calabria unveils, through the eyes of the traveller, a part of Italy that, even today, few know well. Calabria's thematic format includes chapters on every facet of life, past and present, atop Italy's remote toe: from Magna Græcia to amusing episodes; from spectacular mountains to devastating earthquakes; from remarkable people to the scourge of the mafia. Without doubt Calabria is the definitive book on Calabria in English.
Calabria and the Liparian Islands is a travelogue describing a journey taken by the author in southern Italy in the mid-nineteenth century. The book provides a detailed account of the landscape, people, and customs of the region, as well as discussions of historical events and archaeological sites. This is a valuable resource for anyone interested in Italian history and culture. This work has been selected by scholars as being culturally important, and is part of the knowledge base of civilization as we know it. This work is in the "public domain in the United States of America, and possibly other nations. Within the United States, you may freely copy and distribute this work, as no entity (individual or corporate) has a copyright on the body of the work. Scholars believe, and we concur, that this work is important enough to be preserved, reproduced, and made generally available to the public. We appreciate your support of the preservation process, and thank you for being an important part of keeping this knowledge alive and relevant.
