Penguin Book of Italian Short Stories ed. Jhumpa Lahiri
Translated from the Italian by Various
528 pgs. | hc | 9780241299838 | $30.00

Review by Jeanne Bonner

Novels and memoirs often become labors of love for the authors who birth them. But what about an anthology? How often do we imagine the editor of a large, door-stopper compilation of, say, short stories, calling the arduous task of sorting and selecting the entries a labor of love? And what if the short stories are in a foreign language and the editing also involved commissioning new translations and tracking down old ones?

Author Jhumpa Lahiri, who edited the new Penguin Book of Italian Short Stories, doesn糖心传媒檛 use those exact words in the anthology糖心传媒檚 introduction, but she comes pretty close as she describes what inspired her to want to curate such a collection. It糖心传媒檚 of a piece with what inspired her in 2012 (a dozen years after winning the Pulitzer Prize) to move her family to Rome so she could surround herself with the Italian language: 糖心传媒淚 surrendered to an inexplicable urge to distance myself, to immerse myself and to acquire a second literary formation.糖心传媒� That second literary formation she mentions (it makes me think of 糖心传媒渇ormazione,糖心传媒� which in Italian means training or education) has been fruitful. In addition to publishing two books in Italian, including In Other Words, based on the Italian diary she kept in Rome, Lahiri has translated Domenico Starnone’s novels Ties and Trick, and now the short stories of underappreciated or overlooked authors such as Corrado Alvaro, Aldo Palazzeschi, and Fabrizia Ramondino糖心传媒攁ll of which appear in the anthology.

It糖心传媒檚 not unprecedented for an author to go abroad and lose her head over a language and a country (James Joyce also decamped to Italy, and would converse with his children in Italian; James Baldwin lived for decades in France, as did Mavis Gallant). But how often does such an author糖心传媒攅specially one gifted enough to receive this country糖心传媒檚 highest literary honor糖心传媒攎aster the new language enough to write in it or translate important works, as she has done? Indeed, Lahiri糖心传媒檚 role as not only a booster of Italian lit, but also a practitioner arguably transformed the process of editing and curating the Penguin anthology (just as, in her diary, she wrote how Rome had transformed her). The result is a primer on short fiction from Italy that, given its thorough and nuanced selections, will likely be used as a college text. Indeed, Lahiri糖心传媒檚 inclusion of a side-by-side chronology of Italian literary and historical events糖心传媒攁 copy of which may go up on my wall糖心传媒攊s peerless in a general interest book of this kind.

With works by 40 writers whose stories were published over the span of 100 years, the anthology appears at a time when so-called #FerranteFever remains high. Indeed, a new novel by Elena Ferrante, the author of the spectacularly successful Neapolitan Series of novels that begins with My Brilliant Friend, has already been published in Italian and will arrive in American bookstores next year, not a moment too soon for fans of the reclusive writer. It can sometimes seem like everyone in America knows Italy糖心传媒攁nd everyone knows someone who has just returned from Italy, aglow in Mediterranean reminiscing. But beyond Ferrante and a handful of other authors (Dante? Andrea Camilleri?), what does everyone know about Italian literature? Not a whole lot. And perhaps with good reason: translations of books originally published in Italy continue to trail translations of books from France, for example, according to Three Percent糖心传媒檚 Translation Database, now hosted by Publisher糖心传媒檚 Weekly.

Lahiri糖心传媒檚 anthology will help, with short stories from some of the peninsula糖心传媒檚 most important classic writers (Luigi Pirandello, Primo Levi, Antonio Tabucchi, Leonardo Sciascia, Cesare Pavese, Grazia Deledda, Alberto Moravia, et al) as well as a host of lesser-known authors (Anna Banti, Luce D糖心传媒橢ramo, Goffredo Parise, Beppe Fenoglio).

Lahiri uses her learned introduction to trace the trajectory of the Italian short story back to its origins beyond the well-known Boccaccio, namechecking Matteo Bandello and Masuccio Salernitano. Both of these authors (along with Boccaccio) composed what was known as novelle or short tales, stories that often had a moral slant or fable quality to them. They sometimes introduced characters and locales from faraway, and could be quite ribald, as they reveled in deconstructing male-female relationships.

It糖心传媒檚 in the introduction that we also learn how Lahiri specifically sought out women writers, lesser-known writers, and overlooked writers in compiling the anthology. She says she selected stories with an eye particularly toward the experiences of women, as written by women or men. It is gratifying to find works in the anthology by Lalla Romano, Anna Maria Ortese, Elsa Morante, Natalia Ginzburg and Fausta Cialente糖心传媒攆ive writers whom author Dacia Maraini, one of Italy糖心传媒檚 greatest living novelists, has identified as so significant as to be her 糖心传媒渓iterary mothers.糖心传媒� (Maraini is not included in the anthology because Lahiri decided to feature only the work of deceased authors). The inclusion of these five writers, as well as other women, is critical because women authors are often passed over for prizes and less appreciated in Italy, and correspondingly less translated than their male counterparts abroad (according to Three Percent糖心传媒檚 Translation Database, of the 45 books originally published in Italy that were translated from Italian into English in 2018, only seven were by women authors). Moreover, there are quite a few anthologies of Italian short stories where women writers are given scant attention. But not this anthology.

The Penguin work distinguishes itself in other ways, most notably by including more than a dozen works that have never been translated into English, such as 糖心传媒淭he Ambitious Ones,糖心传媒� a gem of a story by Elsa Morante, and 糖心传媒淒ialogue with a Tortoise糖心传媒� by the much-celebrated Italo Calvino. That糖心传媒檚 the power of an anthology like this: not merely compiling in a new place what already existed (which has a value in its own right, particularly here with literature not native to America), but indeed commissioning translations of works that heretofore were unavailable to the vast majority of Anglophone readers, since they do not read Italian.

Also of note among these new translations is 糖心传媒淚nvitation to Dinner糖心传媒� by Alba de Cespedes, which is narrated by an unnamed woman and which brings us the story of a dinner with an English officer in wartime Italy who helps transport the narrator糖心传媒檚 brother back to Rome after the liberation of Northern Italy. The officer smugly tells them the world won糖心传媒檛 automatically welcome Italy back into the fold after 20 long years of barbarous Fascism. The narrator seethes in silence, lamenting that:

糖心传媒� it wasn糖心传媒檛 enough, as proof of civilization, to have manufactured that porcelain or to have written those books squeezed into the shelves that lined the walls of the library. We had to demonstrate once again, to prove, to pass, all forty-five million of us together, a lengthy exam.

The anthology also includes new, updated translations, and among those stories, Elio Vittorini糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒淣ame and Tears糖心传媒� feels like a revelation. It糖心传媒檚 a fable and a mystery wrapped in one, with an extremely fluid translation by Erica Segre and Simon Carnell. The story is about a man searching for a woman. Is she real? He hears her sobbing, and at the end of the tale is left only with a 糖心传媒渉andkerchief, damp with her tears.糖心传媒� The book features a new translation of 糖心传媒淭he Long Voyage糖心传媒� by Leonardo Sciascia, a pivotal twentieth century Sicilian author who was the first to write incisively about the Mafia but whose prose style, as translator and scholar Frederika Randall has remarked, hasn糖心传媒檛 always been served well by English translations.

The anthology caps a wave of newly translated works and retranslated works from Italy in recent years, that糖心传媒檚 been fueled in part perhaps by interest in Ferrante糖心传媒檚 works (and the furor over her identity; Ferrante is a pseudonym). For example, some of the novels of the seminal Ginzburg have been re-translated in recent years, including Jenny McPhee糖心传媒檚 wonderful translation of Family Lexicon, published in 2017 by NYRB. Primo Levi糖心传媒檚 oeuvre has also received the attention it deserves through the tome The Complete Works of Primo Levi, which was edited and translated by Ann Goldstein糖心传媒攁.k.a. Ferrante糖心传媒檚 translator.

It is unsurprising, then, that the anthology reprints excerpts from some of the more notable translations appearing in recent years, including the stunningly good translation of Anna Maria Ortese糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒淎 Pair of Eyeglasses糖心传媒� by the Italian translation dream-team of McPhee and Goldstein (it appeared in the collection Neapolitan Chronicles, published by New Vessel Press in 2018). Ortese糖心传媒檚 influence on her peers and on contemporary writers has been keenly felt, with an echo of her candid descriptions here of an impoverished neighborhood in post-war Naples, and the singular combination of superstition, fate, and politics that reigns over the characters糖心传媒� lives evident in the works of Ferrante, among others. Ortese糖心传媒檚 characters come alive in wonderful and wretched ways, in particular Eugenia, the innocent girl whose family糖心传媒檚 poverty deprives her of glasses, leaving her practically in the dark for years, and Nunziata糖心传媒攖he nagging, morose, unmarried aunt biding her time until death and who utters the unforgettable line, 糖心传媒淢y child, it糖心传媒檚 better not to see the world than to see it.糖心传媒� The anthology also includes a short story by Levi about a centaur (as Lahiri notes in her preface to the story, Levi defied categories).

Equally as good is a story from Ginzburg called 糖心传媒淢y Husband,糖心传媒� expertly translated by Paul Lewis. Ginzburg always writes perceptively about family dynamics and here she has applied her skills to exposing some of the less savory aspects of marriage. When she writes about male-female relationships, she often exposes male infidelity or indifference but without any feminist grandstanding or judgement (she was a better person than I ever will be). In this short story, the husband rather boldly confesses that his surprising indiscretions have continued after the birth of the couple糖心传媒檚 first child, in a scene that is nothing short of breathtaking:

He knelt down in front of me and kissed my bare arms. 糖心传媒楬elp me, I糖心传媒檓 begging you,糖心传媒� he said. 糖心传媒榃hat am I going to do if you won糖心传媒檛 help me?糖心传媒� 糖心传媒楤ut how can I possibly help you?糖心传媒� I screamed, pushing him away and bursting into tears. Then my husband picked up Giorgio, kissed him, gave him to me and said, 糖心传媒楨verything will be easier now, you糖心传媒檒l see.糖心传媒�

Reader, I will only tell you that 糖心传媒渆asier糖心传媒� would not be the word I糖心传媒檇 have chosen to describe the finale of this stunning short tale of Ginzburg糖心传媒檚.

There are many theories about how translations should sound. Some translators and publishers prefer works that retain a trace of foreignness, while others say the translated works should read no differently than a work by an American author. These stories for the most part, like Lahiri糖心传媒檚 translation of the Starnone novels, read so fluidly that you forget they are works in translation. Theory aside, there糖心传媒檚 no arguing that these crisp translations will have the reader eagerly turning pages.

Those of us who have immersed ourselves in Italian literature face a particular conundrum: love of Italy and Italian culture seems to be ubiquitous in America these days, but knowledge and appreciation of the peninsula糖心传媒檚 literary output is, in reality, quite limited. This is partly because other countries subsidize translations with prizes, grants and fellowships, and Italy does not. This is not a recent problem, and as a result, there糖心传媒檚 long been a familiarity with, in particular, French and German authors. Americans know Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, Herman Hesse, Bertolt Brecht, W.聽G. Sebald, Gunter Grass and so on. But do they know Sciascia? Are Morante糖心传媒檚 books taught widely in high schools and colleges here?

Here糖心传媒檚 to that familiarity extending to Sunny Italy. Indeed, here糖心传媒檚 hoping if the anthology is updated in the future, American readers will be arguing over whether it should have included a short story by Maraini or Niccolo Ammaniti or Donatella Di Pietrantonio. As Lahiri notes in her introduction, English-language literature dominates literary discussions far beyond the borders of Anglophone nations糖心传媒攕omething that 糖心传媒渇ew, on the English-speaking side of the border, stop to question.糖心传媒� Perhaps they should. Lahiri, in her Rome diary, had described the sensation that the Italian language and its literature inspired in her as nothing short of 糖心传媒渞apture.糖心传媒� Here糖心传媒檚 hoping that rapture is catching. For she糖心传媒檚 understood that Italy produces something even more satisfying糖心传媒攆ar more so, in fact糖心传媒攖han a caffelatte or a slice of Neapolitan pizza.

Ghachar Ghochar by Vivek Shanbhag

What purpose does a book serve if its content can be neatly condensed onto, and thereby extracted from, its book jacket? Intentionally or not, author Vivek Shanbhag answers this fundamental question in a surprising way with Ghachar Ghochar.

Translated into English from the Kannada by Srinath Perur, Ghachar Ghochar (2015) is the eighth fictional work published by acclaimed writer Vivek Shanbhag. In its tale of an impoverished Indian family whose lifestyle capsizes after gaining sudden wealth from starting a spice trade company, the novella糖心传媒檚 themes touch upon those tackled by such American classics as Death of a Salesman and A Raisin in the Sun.

If its plot is reminiscent of A Raisin in the Sun, its narrator糖心传媒攁n unnamed, unassuming young man who kills time by reflecting on day-to-day observations糖心传媒攊s reminiscent of The Great Gatsby糖心传媒檚 Nick Carraway. Despite playing no active role in the constant social conflict within which he gets entangled, he finds that his owns world is spinning. So, too, is the coffee he seems to be indefinitely stirring at Coffee House糖心传媒攁n old-world caf茅 where he seeks comfort in the familiar. The familiar being the old ways of life.

Through the narrator糖心传媒檚 flashbacks, readers learn that coffee is not the only thing brewing at Coffee House. A newly rich man with no need to work, it is at this caf茅 that he churns through memories, attempting to make sense of his increasingly turbulent domestic affairs by pinpointing the moment they went awry. The narrator recounts how his uncle, the family breadwinner, transformed from washed up salesman to CEO almost overnight. What follows is a disruption of family order that parallels that of larger Indian society during the nation糖心传媒檚 recent era of industrialization, feminist enlightenment, and socioeconomic transition.

The flashbacks also tell of old and new generations at war within his family, including battles between his mother and his new wife regarding a woman糖心传媒檚 place within the delicate familial dynamic. Feminist undertones fully emerge by story糖心传媒檚 end, when the narrator is left sitting alone, wondering if his marriage has permanently collapsed or if his wife will return. Clearly, it is no longer he who is in control of the power struggle that has become of his once happy marriage.

At its heart, Ghachar Ghochar is a book of chaos: the line where modernity and traditional culture clash. Take the case of the narrator糖心传媒檚 family gaining unexpected糖心传媒攁nd ultimately detrimental糖心传媒攑rosperity by capitalistic means as they enter the big, bad business world. Here, the old sentiment 糖心传媒渂e careful what you wish for糖心传媒� does well to describe Ghachar Ghochar糖心传媒檚 thematic complexity. For, after careful meditation, the only conclusion the narrator is able to reach is that neither financial prosperity nor feminism immediately translate to social peace; both require hard work to make their unadulterated ideals a lasting success.

All of these flashbacks materialize in the symbolic scene of ants overrunning the narrator糖心传媒檚 former home糖心传媒攁nts, he observes, that uncharacteristically fall out of line, choosing to march independently rather than in orderly single-file rows. Like the ants, so do the novella糖心传媒檚 characters march to the beat of their own drum. With newfound money comes newfound boldness as the younger generations dare to defy expectation by falling outside the lines drawn by the hierarchical conventions of traditional Indian society.

If there is one constant throughout the chaos, it is the narrator糖心传媒檚 recurring comments on the difficulty of explaining things糖心传媒攂e they events, feelings, actions, or behavioral motives糖心传媒攖o people who don糖心传媒檛 possess the full contextual background of the circumstance in question. In one scene, the narrator糖心传媒檚 wife becomes upset after witnessing her husband kill an ant for (at least to her) no discernible reason. The narrator then laments on the hopelessness of trying to get her to understand his actions without him first explaining their deep-rooted context. He confides to readers: 糖心传媒淗ow was I to explain to her my history with ants? It would make no sense to someone who hadn糖心传媒檛 lived through something similar糖心传媒� (p. 76).

And in this way, Vivek Shanbhag masterfully touches upon why we read stories in the first place: books are written because they are the only means we have to thoroughly explain a circumstance by showing audiences the context leading up to that circumstance. In the case of this novella, flashbacks are employed because past and perspective are essential to explaining how and why things are what they are today糖心传媒攂e it why the narrator kills ants, or why India is experiencing a socioeconomic reorganization. Context is everything in this story糖心传媒攁 story of past, present, and how the two influence the future. It gives words (including the titular 糖心传媒済hachar ghochar,糖心传媒� a made-up phrase whose meaning only exists within the inside joke of the characters who invented it) their very meaning. As Vivek Shanbhag writes in this novella, 糖心传媒淟anguage communicates in terms of what is already known; it chokes up when asked to deal with the entirely unprecedented.糖心传媒� In the end, past, perspective, and context are what book jackets lack in giving a text its meaning.

The Truce聽by Mario Benedetti
translated from the Spanish by Harry Morales
192 pgs. | pb | 9780141396859 | 拢8.99聽

Reviewed by Arianna Aron

Mario Benedetti (1920-2009), Uruguay糖心传媒檚 most beloved writer, was a man who loved to bend the rules. He gave his haikus as many syllables as fit his mood, and wrote a play divided into sections instead of acts. In his country, he was an outspoken supporter of the Frente Amplio, resisting the brutal dictatorship that forced him into a 12-year exile. He was a man who took sides, and took chances. That such a man could invent the intimate diary of a person like Mart铆n Santom茅 says much for Benedetti糖心传媒檚 deep sensitivity to the human condition. The diary is the text for his 1960 novel La Tregua (The Truce).

Mart铆n Santom茅 is a 49-year-old worn out accountant close to retirement, a widower living with his three grown children. A casual bed fellow once described him as looking like a clerk even when he糖心传媒檚 making love. He is so unimaginative that, of all the occupations in the world, what he would choose if he糖心传媒檇 be something other than an accountant, is to be a waiter. As he looks back on the 20 years since his wife糖心传媒檚 death, he realizes that he hasn糖心传媒檛 been happy, but he did right by his children. He was spared 糖心传媒渢he unyielding look that is reserved for heartless fathers.糖心传媒�

A man of his times, Santom茅 is upset by his younger son糖心传媒檚 homosexuality. He blames himself for Jaime糖心传媒檚 糖心传媒渄eviance,糖心传媒� and can糖心传媒檛 understand why Blanca and Esteban turned out 糖心传媒渘ormal.糖心传媒� But Mart铆n Santom茅 continues to be the dutiful father, and we appreciate him for that, just as we forgive him for defining women by their body parts and believing that when they糖心传媒檙e menstruating they can糖心传媒檛 concentrate. Unlike certain contemporary homophobes and misogynists, he has no rancor toward gays and women, and is in fact a person who both tolerates and accepts differences so well that he welcomes a female colleague at work when she is one of three new employees assigned to his department. As with the male workers, he calls her by her family name, which happens to be the surname of the author who wrote a phony Part Two of Don Quixote (a book that made Cervantes very angry because in the counterfeit edition, Don Quixote falls out of love with Dulcinea). Benedetti, the consummate writer, must have seen something compelling there, because soon after Avellaneda comes to work for Santom茅, he falls in love with her糖心传媒攚ith a love that is transformative and enduring.

Mart铆n Santom茅 had never imagined this romance. For a long time he糖心传媒檇 been satisfied with anonymous one-night stands that had nothing in common with the sense of communion he糖心传媒檇 felt with Isabel, his deceased wife. With her, he tells his diary, 糖心传媒渆very one of my impulses mathematically found its own receptive echo. We were made for each other.糖心传媒� The love for Avellaneda, a woman half his age, was a surprise that happened to him, not something he糖心传媒檇 gone looking for.

When the accountant first contemplates what it could be like with Avellaneda, what troubles him most is the mismatch between what he sees as her youthful expectations and his future of guaranteed arthritis糖心传媒攖he portent of a relationship with barely a temporary patent. In ten years, when he糖心传媒檚 pushing 60 and she is 33: will she cheat on him? Leave him for a younger man? As the affair progresses, though, Avellaneda declares her love, explaining to Mart铆n that it糖心传媒檚 not for his face, or his years, or his words, or his intentions that she loves him, but because he is a good man. His preoccupation now becomes her future happiness. He broods over whether there will be enough strength and longevity to give her a good life, a concern that becomes sadly ironic as the story unfolds.

Harry Morales, the translator of this intriguing novel, does a fine job of giving Santom茅 a voice in English. Whether the accountant is speaking of the tedium and frustrations of office work, or the aging lover is fretting over physical and existential issues inherent in May-December romances, or the rejuvenated man is reflecting on his feelings for this 糖心传媒渢ruce糖心传媒� that is occurring in his otherwise dreary life, the diarist糖心传媒檚 entries糖心传媒攁lways a bit reserved糖心传媒攄raw us in and make us a part of his world.

Though Mart铆n Santom茅糖心传媒檚 world is confined to the small middle-class society of Montevideo in mid-twentieth-century Uruguay, his issues with family, career, aging, retirement, and above all, love and loss, resonate beyond borders and time to make his diary a touching and rewarding universal read. Of the ninety books Benedetti published, The Truce stands out for its popularity, with more than a million copies sold, translation into twenty languages, and a 1974 film version by Sergio Ren谩n that was nominated for an Academy Award. In Mart铆n Santom茅糖心传媒檚 simple urban life there is a depth and authenticity that people everywhere can identify with and appreciate, and now, with Harry Morales糖心传媒檚 refreshing new translation, readers of English can enjoy this engaging novel by one of Latin America糖心传媒檚 most acclaimed writers.