Review of Anthony Di Renzo’s Novella, Trinàcria:
A Tale of Bourbon Sicily (Guernica, 2013)

If you go to Sicily, visit the Catacombs of the Capuchins in Palermo, where instead of the traditional forms of inhumation, many have been mummified upon their death. The mummies hang there for your view and reflection. Look and listen carefully and you may hear the ghosts of these long dead, as you imagine the lives they led and what they could tell you about the history of this part of the world.

Well, whether or not you can get there, Anthony Di Renzo’s historical novella, Trinàcria: A Tale of Bourbon Sicily, recounts some of this story in an engaging, literate, enlightening way. The core of this book is the narration by the mummy of a fictional Marchesa, Zita Valanguerra Spinelli, a descendent of a minor Spanish noble family that migrated to Sicily during the Bourbon rule. This is Zita’s memoir of her life and interactions with her family, authors, composers, politicians, the aristocracy of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, Garibaldi’s warriors and some enterprising tradesmen of the era. Having seen the fortunes of her family and class decline and the rise of commercialism, Zita is bitter and cynical, and proud, stubborn, vengeful and unscrupulous. She is also very intelligent, atheistic, independent and assertive, sexually liberated, a patron of the arts, a writer herself, with an acerbic wit and sharp sense of humor. You’ll love her – or be repelled by her.

The story begins and ends with the making of a Hollywood movie about Garibaldi’s conquest on the occasion of its 100th anniversary. This relates the themes in the book to current times and perhaps provides a glimpse into the results of the Risorgimento. But the heart of the book is Zita’s life story. Each of the other chapters begins with Zita’s philosophizing about life and death and the changes she hates, and then leads into tales of episodes in her life.

As a child at the beginning of the 19th century, Zita rejected the religious teachings of her mother and learned from her brilliant father, Don Alfonso, the laws of physics instead of the Ten Commandments. She adopted the nickname, Trinàcria, the ancient name for Sicily, which is represented by the symbol of the Medusa surrounded by three bent legs in a triangular shape. Thus, we identify Zita with Sicily, especially Bourbon Sicily. She descended from foreigners, acting proud, stubborn, resistant to change and cynical.

When King Ferdinand and Queen Maria Carolina moved their court from Naples to Palermo, this bright girl became a favorite of the Queen, who wanted to find a good match for her. At sixteen years old, the Queen engaged her to the rich but grossly obese Vitello Spinelli, Marchese of Scalea. Her pleas to Don Alfonso were useless, but he did mention two things: a son would endear her to the Spinellis, whatever happened to her husband, and that Vitello liked almonds. After some thought, Zita remembered that arsenic smelled and tasted like almonds. So after a year of marriage, her son Alvarito was born and husband Vitello died shortly thereafter. She then considers whom she would like as a new husband and settles on Benjamin Ingham, the British entrepreneur who developed the Marsala wine trade. When rejected by Ingham, the beautiful Zita becomes promiscuous and has a series of scandalous affairs. At one time, seeing her reflection in a mummified state, she asks if “this scarecrow “ was the seducer of four princes at one ball?

Son Alvarito eventually marries and has a daughter, Regina Carolina, named after the Queen. This is quite ironic because Regina becomes the antagonist to Zita: an anti-Bourbon, fanatical supporter of Garibaldi and the Risorgimento. Regina had encountered Garibaldi who saw her as a child of privilege who fights for freedom. One of his men gave her one of the red shirts that symbolized Garibaldi’s Thousand.

The contrasts between Zita and her granddaughter extended even to music. Regina favored Verdi with his nationalistic operas that became associated with the Italian unification movement. Zita’s favorite composer was Bellini and her praise of his delicate bel canto style is one of the few instances of tenderness that she ever reveals. She even shed a tear once when Regina was playing Bellini’s La Sonnambula on the piano. But Regina stopped playing (“too morbid”, she said). She preferred a good Verdi march. Zita brought her granddaughter to the San Carlo Opera in Naples, of which she was a major benefactor. Verdi was rehearsing there and she thought his rough nature would change Regina’s view of heroes. But she charmed both Verdi and his mistress, Giuseppina Strepponi.

Garibaldi said they were fighting for freedom but Di Renzo shows that there were differing views about the movement. Regina’s husband, Ciccio, tells how his father and he were digging a ditch when Garibaldi saw them. He approached and tried to recruit his father. But he just looked at Garibaldi and gave a Sicilian hand sign, flicking his chin. Ciccio heard the rifles click. Then one of the Red Shirts said: “He’s a terrone, boys, a dirt eater. Save your bullets.” When Ciccio asked his father why he did that, he said: “Because when Italy will be free, I’ll still be digging this ditch.” Even to this day, there is debate about whether the Risorgimento benefited the south of Italy.

The book draws obvious comparisons to Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s Il Gattopardo, which takes place in the same time period and also follows the decline of the noble class. That book’s protagonist, Prince Fabrizio Salina, however, breaks with tradition and accommodates the new order to assure a better future for his family. In Trinàcria, the Marchesa Zita is unwilling to accept the changing world. Perhaps it is appropriate that she joined the mummies, whom she once called bacalà like the dried salted codfish.

One of the pleasures of Zita’s memoir is the dealings she has with major cultural icons of the period. Besides Verdi and Bellini, there are meetings with the great Italian poet, Giacomo Leopardi, near the slopes of Vesuvius. When you read of these encounters, you have the feeling of being among these masters yourself. And Di Renzo has a great depth of knowledge of these characters and the events and culture of the time period. He has an eloquent, classical writing style, which gives a vivid picture of the Marchesa’s world, a world that was destined to disappear, like the yellow flowers of the broom plants, under the flow of lava on the slopes of Vesuvius.

One caveat, the book may not appeal to readers with a limited knowledge of this Bourbon era and the Risorgimento, unless they are willing to put in some effort. Even those with some familiarity may benefit from some additional research. But for those interested, the rewards obtained will be well worth the effort.