http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php en rue@rueskitchen.com Copyright 2008 2008-08-24T17:48:00-08:00 http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php/weblog1/italian_american_folk_magic/ Stregoneria

Italian Americans have long been defined by their religious beliefs and practices. During the great wave of immigration, the Irish-dominated Roman Catholic hierarchy identified Italian immigrants as the "Italian problem" and mere "sacramental Catholics" due to the latter's popular anti-clericalism, the seamless blending of witchcraft and ecclesiastic teachings, their deep devotion to the cult of the saints and the Virgin Mary, and the spectacularly staged feste that mixed the sacred and the profane in streets across America. During the 20th century, Italian American spirituality and religious practices have undergone significant transformations with shifts in theological tenets, economic status, and the political climate. -John D. Calandra Italian American Institute and The Italian American Studies Program of Queens College




"There are more things, Lucilius, that frighten us than injure us, and we suffer more in imagination than in reality."

-Seneca, Epistulae ad Lucilium



Conjuration/Spell Craft

In sympathetic magic, the most important thing is working when the moon is right for your specific intention. To attract a certain condition into your life, (i.e.: love), work when the moon is waxing. To rid yourself of a certain condition such as an illness, or hex-breaking, work when the moon is waning. To have your wishes granted, or to give thanks when the moon is full.

Italian witches also know that prevention is the best protection. Be cautious with your hair and nail clippings. Make sure to always take possession of them after a haircut, manicure and or pedicure and then burn them. If your enemy should ever get a hold of them, they can cast evil upon you.

If you wish your hair to grow luxuriant and your nails to grow strong and longer, trim the ends during the waxing moon.


Days of the Week To Cast Spells


Sunday is ruled by the Sun: this is the day I

normally choose to cast spells or perform rituals related

to success, ambition, career, healing.



Monday is ruled by the Moon: cast spells for

psychic powers, clairvoyance, home, childbirth and

feminine aspects.



Tuesday is ruled by Mars: this is the day to cast

spells for courage and inner strength, men, sexual energy

war. Note: that if it is sex you are seeking, and not

necessarily love, this is the day to perform your ritual.

However I must remind you...

"be careful what you wish for, for you might get it".



Wednesday is ruled by Mercury. On this day

I work on communication, education, creativity, travel,

mental agility, writing, art...etc.



Thursday is ruled by Jupiter. Cast spells for

wealth and expansion, political power, law business,

and insurance matters.



Friday is ruled by Venus. Here it is, my favorite day

to cast spells or perform rituals! On Friday work on: love,

beauty, and celebrate nature.



Saturday is ruled by Saturn. This day is reserved for

spells/rituals related to challenges that we meet in life to learn about ourselves. It's also a good day for

working on property, inheritance and agriculture.





COLOR OF INTENTION

Here is a guide to the colors associated with particular intentions. These colors can be used in the form of candles, clothing, cloth for sachets.



Brown

Healing for animals, the home



Red

Sexual energy, inner strength, courage



Pink

Romantic love, self-love, friendship



Yellow

Happiness, learning, creative imagination, communication and the mind



Orange/ Gold

Strength, courage, luck, power, justice



Green

Abundance, money, prosperity, fertility, good luck, harmony



Blue

Healing, truth, inspiration, higher wisdom, travel



Purple

Spiritual healing, psychic powers, knowledge



White

Peace, purity and protection, in the place of any of the above.



HERB OF INTENTION

Here is a list of herbs and plants that are affiliated to particular wishes, intentions and desires.



LOVE

Apple, basil, dill, jasmine, lavender, thyme, rose



WEALTH

Allspice, cedar, comfrey, ginger, honeysuckle, cinnamon



PROTECTION

Bay, clove, fennel, orris, pine, witch hazel, rue



HEALTH

Cilantro, juniper, knotweed, nutmeg, rue



FERTILITY

Fig, geranium, mustard, patchouli, peach, poppy



HAPPINESS

Catnip, celandine, hawthorn, Hyacinth, marjoram



COURAGE

Black cohosh, borage, mullein, poke, yarrow



SEXUAL ATTRACTION

Damiana, patchouli, cinnamon, clove




OILS

I always have a store of olive oil, which can be used for any type of spell-casting. Here is a list of other oils that resonate to specific intentions.



LOVE

Gardenia, jasmine, lavender, rose



LUST

Musk, vanilla, basil, cinnamon, ginger, neroli, patchouli, ylang-ylang



PROSPERITY

Almond, bergamot, honeysuckle, mint, peony



HEALING

Carnation, mimosa, rosemary, sandalwood



PROTECTION

Basil, frankincense, lavender, myrrh, sandalwood



LUCK

Allspice, nutmeg, orange, violet



BUSINESS

Benzoin, cinnamon, mint, peony



MONEY

Clove, ginger, honeysuckle, nutmeg, pine



SUCCESS

Bergamot, clove, ginger, lemon balm



HAPPINESS

Lavender, lily of the valley, marjoram



SLEEP

Chamomile, lavender, peppermint, thyme



VITALITY

Bay, carnation, pennyroyal, St-John's-Wort



PEACE

Lavender, gardenia, passion flower, skullcap



BLESSINGS

Benzoin, cumin, rue]]> 2007-05-09T18:40:00-08:00 http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php/weblog1/about_me/ About Me "Rue is both a traditional and Saint Magic healer. She breaks the stereotype of an uneducated person steeped in superstition. She is a registered nurse who combines skills as a psychic medium, natural health consultant and Reiki master into her healing practice." ~Eric K. Lerner


I am an only child born in New England to Italian immigrant parents. My paternal grandmother was a healer in her town in southern Italy. She divined people's futures, brewed home remedies from herbs, removed curses, performed blessings, as well as the laying on of hands . My Nonna, who I am her namesake, was a devout Roman Catholic and attended Mass every morning. Frequent visits to the family crypt to honor ancestors were not uncommon. I inherited a natural ability for the healing arts from my grandmother and the gift of Clairvoyance from both parents.

Nonna's practices were NEVER referred to as 'stregoneria' or witchcraft, as a matter of fact she would have died than be thought a witch. These are just the 'things we do'. The term strega was used in our household in mirth -it was used lightheartedly in the spirit of affection when referring to me or any of my other aunts or cousins who had the 'sight' and practiced folk magic/healing.

Fluent in the language of my ancestors: Italian (including 5 dialects) as well as English and French, conversational Greek and Spanish, I have been researching and studying all things occult and supernatural and practicing stregoneria and Benedicaria based on customs and practises handed down to me from Italian immigrant elders in my family and community for over 25 years. I deal mainly with the practical side of magic: blessing and cleansing with the help of the cult of saints, the earth and the elements, seamlessly blending the sacred and the profane. My knowledge and experience, along with a wealth of resources and expertises available to me through my Famiglia (community of practitioners), makes me confident that I can provide clear, concise and accurate guidance in the practice of stregoneria and Benedicaria.

Sta Benedica,

Rue]]> 2004-04-03T05:20:00-08:00 http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php/weblog1/magie_sorcellerie_croyances/ Stregoneria
La Corse désigne par le terme de ochju (oeil) les forces occultes dont un individu est victime.

Le mauvais œil peut-être donné par les vivants c'est << innochju >> ou par les morts, << imbuscada >>.

Souvent conséquences de sentiments troubles tels que la jalousie ou l'envie.

S'il est atteint du mauvais oeil, il doit faire appel à celui ou celle qui possède le pouvoir de le "chasser", ou de le "briser"..."crucia l'occhju" (conjurer le mauvais œil).

Seuls le signadore et la signadora, doués de pouvoirs extraordinaires, qui guérissent l'âme ou le corps, sont capables d'exorciser le mal, par des techniques appropriées, qu'ils ont acquises par initiation.

La Tenidora, voyante, guérit à distance par incantations.

Les cérémonies de purification s'accompagnent d'une incantation que l'on apprend exclusivement la nuit de Noël.

Jean-Claude Rogliano dans son roman "Mal Concilio", décrit une scène d'exorcisme : << Quand l'huile fut chaude, la signadora en fit tomber quelques gouttes dans l'eau de l'écuelle. Avec la même main, elle ne cessait de faire des signes de croix au-dessus du récipient de terre tandis que Rosana répétait après elle toutes les prières de l'incantesimu. enfin, elle lui apprit à découvrir dans la forme des taches d'huile surnageant dans l'eau les causes du mal et les moyens de le faire disparaître .>>
La transmission se faisait autrefois en famille , et en génération alternée :de grands-parents en petits-enfants.

Si l'on dévoile les prières, "e prigantule", du rituel, ou si on les transmet hors de la date voulue, le pouvoir est perdu.

Cette date est dans toute la Corse, celle de la nuit de Noël. Dans certains endroits, on étend la période de transmission aux septs derniers jours de l'année (de Noël au jour de l'An). Les dons de la signatora ne se limitent pas à conjurer le mauvais oeil, ils soignent aussi certaines maladies auxquelles on n'attribue pas de causes magiques : piqûres d'insectes par exemple.

Le thème de la magie et de la sorcellerie est corollaire à celui de la médecine populaire, l'un et l'autre entretenant souvent des rapports étroits dans la tradition.

L'homme corse continue à vivre à la frontière du surnaturel :
C'est ainsi que le jour de l'Ascension, avant même que le soleil se lève, il s'en va cueillir une petite plante grasse porte-bonheur. Il la conservera chez lui sans racines, sans eau, sans terre et la plante continuera pourtant de fleurir. Le contraire serait considéré comme un grave signe de malheur.
Il recueillera également des œufs pondus le jour de l'ascension. Ils ne pourrissent pas et servent de talisman pour les jours d'orage ou d'incendie...
" U panu di San Roccu e di San Antone ", ce pain ne moisit jamais, on peut le garder intact jusqu'à la fin de l'existence, il protège les foyers.


La Sorcière :

Le personnage de la sorcière, "streie", se présente en Corse avec les traits classiques de son statut d'anti-mère : au lieu de donner du lait aux enfants, elle suce leur sang. La sorcière opère surtout dans les maisons, dans lesquelles elle s'introduit par le trou de la serrure.

Elle s'approche des berceaux et suce le sang des enfants endormis, à la manière d'une belette, dont elle prend souvent la forme.

Elle est à l'aise dans l'impair : si on frappe une belette-sorcière, il faut, pour la tuer, lui assèner un nombre pair de coups, sinon elle est sauvée.

Certains bandits, dans le maquis, ne marchaient jamais qu'en nombre pair, par crainte de rencontrer des esprits.
Pour se protèger des sorcières et des sorciers (un homme peut être strigone ou surpatore) on emploie des loquets de bois sur lesquels leurs charmes se brisent. On peut aussi leur opposer des morceaux de corail qui entrent dans la composition des amulettes et des scapulaires ; ou encore, l'unghja di a Grande Bestia (longle de la grande bête) qu'on allait chercher dans un pays lointain ; ou encore la petra quadrata (magnetite ou pierre d'aimant) qui, attachée à la jambe gauche, rend infatigable.

On peut aussi accrocher à la porte ou mettre sous son oreiller une faucille dentelée ou un peigne de métier à tisser : les sorciers qui ne savent compter que jusqu'à sept, perdent leur temps à compter les dents de la faucille ou les lamelles du peigne et quand l'aube arrive, ils sont contraints de s'enfuir sans avoir pu faire de mal.



Les Bergers lisent les augures :

Les bergers, en contact permanent avec la nature, étaient passés maîtres dans l'interprétation des signes. Ils immolaient un chevreau puis "lisaient" l'avenir dans son omoplate. C'est ainsi qu'un vieux berger aurait prédit, au début du premier Empire, les ravages que Morand et ses troupes firent subir à l'île en 1808.



Le "Mucchiu" (le tas) :

Lorsque survenait une mort violente, chaque passant jetait une pierre là où l'accident s'était produit. Et cela jusqu'à ce qu'un nouvel accident mortel vienne calmer l'âme du défunt.



Les Esprits du Brouillard :

On les appelle les lagramanti, sans doute parce qu'ils inspirent une terreur égale à celle que répandaient dans l'île les razzias d'Agramant, un cruel chef Sarazin. Ce sont les Esprits du Brouillard et on ne les voit jamais. Par les nuits ténébreuses et gorgées de brumes, on entend seulement leurs plaintes qui intriguent le voyageur et l'attirent vers le marécage, ou leurs hurlements qui le terrorisent et le jettent dans une fuite éperdue vers le torrent ou le précipice.



Les Processions de Revenants :

Âmes en peine, esprits des brouillards qui entourent et se saisissent des passants attardés par les chemins déserts : lagrimenti et mortuloni vont en compagnie (cumpania mumma, squadra d'Arozza).

Chacun des processionnaires, habillé de blanc, en pénitent, tient un cierge à la main. Malheur à qui les rencontre. Il lui faut se plaquer contre un mur pour éviter d'être complètement enveloppé par ce fleuve d'ombres psalmodiantes, et tenir dirigé contre eux un poignard ou un simple clou. Si l'un des processionnaires lui tend son cierge, il ne doit pas le prendre, car il découvrirait en rentrant chez lui qu'il s'agit du bras d'un enfant.

Pour se libérer il lui faudra annoncer trois dimanches de suite, à la messe qu'il est devenu un sorcier, et attendre à nouveau le passage de la procession des morts. alors il donnera le cierge à celui des processionnaires qui n'en a pas.



Les morts des torrents :

Au passage d'un gué ou d'un pont, on jette une pierre dans le torrent que l'on traverse. C'est pour apaiser les esprits des morts qui, selon une ancienne croyance, en habitent les eaux. Celles-ci représentent symboliquement le fleuve des Enfers. Les trépassés dont l'âme était noire de leur vivant y transportent leur malfaisance. Ceux-là sont à craindre du passant qui risque d'en subir les effets. Le mal qui le frappe est alors appelé l'imbuscada.

<< Lorsqu'on passe le gué d'une rivière à midi et lorsqu'à la tombée de la nuit, le trajet que l'on emprunte oblige à passer devant un cimetière ou une fontaine, on risque de tomber dans une embuscade de mauvais esprits.>>

La victime dépérie jour après jour sans que les médecins soient d'aucun secours. Leur dernier recours est ceux qui, avec des prières secrètes, ont quelque pouvoir contre les esprits maléfiques.



Les Bourrasques des Morts :

Les morts déclenchent également autour des maisons, de violentes bourrasques, quand ils n'y trouve pas l'eau qu'on doit toujours laisser sur le rebord de la fenêtre la nuit, et où ils viennent s'abreuver.



L'Asphodèle :

Certaines plantes aux vertus sacrées sont cueillies dans le maquis puis brûlées en fumigations destinées à lever les maléfices et à protéger hommes et troupeaux des envoûtements.

Pour mettre la récolte de blé à l'abri de la convoitise du diable, on plaçair une croix confectionnée à l'aide de deux tiges d'asphodèle.



L'aire à blé :

Sa forme cyclique, son emplacement exclusivement rural et sa vocation à rassembler les gens pour un ouvrage collectif, en font un lieu privilégié pour une symbolique de correspondances horizontales et verticales : lieu où l'on se retrouve pour un travail agraire, et par là tellurique, destiné à traiter la céréale pour pouvoir se nourrir, l'aire à blé est le champs d'action des forces ouraniennes, l'endroit où le monde intangible exerce son pouvoir.

Peut-être ce rassemblement pour lequel il a vocation fait-il de lui une sorte d'Eglise païenne, lieu d'échange entre le visible et l'invisible. La symbolique qu'il revêt oscille elle aussi entre le bien et le mal et comme la spirale, évoque un mouvement perpétuel entre la vie et la mort : outil de travail pour la vie le jour, il devient lieu de sabbat et de sacrifices la nuit par certaines lunes.



La Bure de la guérison :

il n'était pas rare, autrefois, de croiser de curieux petits moines dont l'âge ne semblait pas dépasser douze ou treize ans. Ces enfants n'étaient promis à aucun sacerdoce. Ils avaient simplement réchappé à une maladie grave et, selon le vœu de leurs parents, pour remercier le Ciel, pendant une certaine période, ils allaient ainsi, révêtus d'une robe de bure.



Pendant des siècles, les Franciscains ont façonné l'âme corse autour de la Passion, de la Croix et de la présence permanente de la mort :

Dans la tradition insulaire, les défunts tiennent une place considérable et interviennent en cas de danger.

La nuit de la Toussaint, ils étaient censés revenir en ce monde et en particulier dans la maison où ils avaient vécu. Il leur fallait absolument trouver cette demeure en l'état ou ils l'avaient laissée et la table mise.

Ce soir-là, on mettait donc leur couvert. En règle générale, on y posait un pain et de l'eau, mais, dans certaines familles, on servait le rôti dans les assiettes, tout comme si les morts allaient arriver pour partager le repas.

Le lendemain matin, la famille mangeait les plats ainsi préparés.

Cette communion avec les disparus peut prendre une grande force poétique :

Ainsi, le soir de la Toussaint, on va fleurir les tombes, mais surtout les éclairer avec des lumières rouges dont la flamme résiste aux intempéries.

Dans un village où il n'y a pas de cimetière et où chacun enterre les siens dans son propre champ, on voit toute la campagne illuminée par des centaines de petites flammes vacillantes, comme vivantes....


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

D'après des textes tirés de : Corsic@ - Louis Panassié, Prisma Presse - l'Almanach du Corse - Guides Gallimard - Corse, Encyclopédies régionales
]]> 2008-08-24T17:48:00-08:00 http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php/weblog1/streghe_e_lupi_mannari_visti_da_bambini_di_30_anni_fa/ Stregoneria

Guardia Sanframondi,Streghe e lupi mannari raccontati da bambini di 30 anni fa. ~lavomma]]> 2008-07-21T05:25:00-08:00 http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php/weblog1/the_significance_of_nicknames_in_italian_american_culture_and_the_novel_chr/ Italian American Literature My paternal grand-father was Francesco Roselli. His nick-name was, and he was best known as Ciccillo Caricaleggio. ~Rue

by Sharon Leggio

Nicknames. They are something that everyone is familiar with in one way or another. However, most people have little, if any, personal experience with nicknames. In Italian-American culture, nicknames play a major role in everyday life. Nicknames are formed with a certain unspoken format, and they have a particular importance. In Italian-American culture nicknames, even though to others they may seem harsh and cruel, are terms of endearment and give a sense of belonging.

“Soprannomi” in Italian means “above the name” (Mazzoni) and refers to dialect nicknames (Addario and Rulli). To the “outside world” Italian-American’s use of nicknames may bring to mind organized crime, due to negative media portrayal, with such names as Al “Scarface” Capone and Tony “The Big Tuna” Accardo (Arduini). From my personal experience, I can say that within the Italian-American culture nicknames have a much sweeter significance.

Since very large, extended Italian families all were apt to dwell in close proximity to one another, nicknames were traditionally used to distinguish one branch of a family from another, and/or one individual from another (Addario and Rulli). Another very good reason for the use of nicknames comes from the “rigor of most Italian naming traditions” (Arduini). The first-born son is to be named after his paternal grandfather, and the second-born son is to be named after his maternal grandfather. Likewise, the first-born daughter is to be named after her paternal grandmother, and the second-born daughter is to be named after her maternal grandmother. The children that follow, “Lord willing”, are to be named after their godparents, not to mention the naming of children after patron saints. It goes without saying that many family members, and community members, end up with the same names. Obviously this leads to tremendous confusion when families and communities are gathered and talking to and about one another, which occurs frequently. Therefore there is actually a desperate need for nicknames.

The most basic form of nickname assignment is the tag of “Big” and “Little” added to the oldest and youngest carriers of a name (Arduini). Although, since most Italian families are so large, this isn’t always sufficient, so nicknames have to rely on other characteristics.

A very convincing example of the role that nicknames play in Italian-American life is portrayed in Pietro di Donato’s novel Christ In Concrete. This novel eloquently presents the many different subjects that nicknames stem from. The very first page of the story, Christ In Concrete, is sprinkled with the nicknames of the paesanos that the father Geremio works with. His work even holds a commonly known and used nickname, “Job.” Some of the men that work with Geremio are, “…Old Nick, the “Lean,” Burly Julio of the walrus mustache, known as the “Snoutnose,” short, cheery-faced Tomas, the scaffoldman, Mike the “Barrel-mouth…”(3-4) Throughout the entire first chapter characters are introduced by their nicknames, and this paints a distinct mental image of the workers for the readers, making them feel closely acquainted with the men, “…Patsy; Curly-headed Lazarene, the roguish, pigeon-toed scaffoldman…” (5) Contrary to popular belief, this is exactly what nicknames do, they bring people closer together, supplying a common ground and creating a deeper intimacy.

Nicknames also play a major role in acceptance, and foster group unity when after Geremio’s death, his young son Paul has to enter the world of “Job.” The workers know him as “Son of Master Geremio” (64). Paul recognizes their faces, but is also familiar with their nicknames, and that is how he becomes acquainted with the men of “Job.” There is “…Mike “Orangepeel-Face;” Salvatore “Four-Eyes,” Nick “the Lucy,” Bastian the tongue-tied Calabrian, Hunt-Hunt, Black Mike, Old Santos, Yellow-Fever Giuseppe…”

In Italian-American culture nicknames are not only important in the work setting, but also extremely significant in the social lives of Italian-Americans. It is not only the men that are tagged with nicknames; the women also carry their own labels, “…the dame Katarina, big-titted Cola, the Regina Govanni, Theresa the Meatball…” (34) Most of the other women in Christ In Concrete, and many women in Italian-American culture, are referred to as “The wife of…” In everyday social interactions, nicknames act as somewhat of a passport for both well-known acquaintances and strangers:


“In fact, if I say to the older people in my town my actual name, they will not know who I am. But if I tell them I am the granddaughter of Ficuccio (which was my grandfather’s nickname) then they say, “Ah, now I know who you are.” And then they call me Ficuccia – the feminine form of Ficuccio – and so I become part of the tradition. Not only that, I become a recognized part of the community, rather than just a stranger from who knows where – which is very strange since my family has been here for who knows how long!” (Mazzoni)


When it comes to how certain nicknames are chosen for people, there are different sources and reasons. The most common categories that nicknames form out of are: a prominent physical feature, a unique behavioral trait, an interesting habit, an occupation, a place of origin, a favorite food, or a past memorable incident that pertains to the person being nicknamed. There are deeper explanations as to why and how people are nicknamed:


“Not all possible words become nicknames, and in order to understand why a nickname will stick to a person we must take into account its crucial functions within a community, from ascribing communal values to an individual’s actions and practices to reinforcing an in-group bond. Social values placed on origin, behavior, or physical characteristics are thus connected to an individual through the nickname. The nickname constitutes a critical and prominent feature in the construction of an individual’s personhood and social identity. It marks the bearer’s membership in a social group and at the same time makes “inside” information accessible to members of that group.” (Jacquemet 736)


There are many examples of nicknames in Italian-American culture that are based on physical characteristics, and they are even broken down further into categories. One category refers to facial features, ‘o Piezzuocchie (the One-eyed), ‘o Nasecano (the Dog Nose), and ‘o Scugnato (the Toothless). Another category pertains to bodily shape, o’ Stuorto (the Crooked), ‘o Nano (the Dwarf), ‘o Palletto (the Little Belly), ‘o Pallone (the Big Belly), and ‘o Grissino (the Breadstick). There is also a category for physical ability, Ercolino means Little Hercules (Jacquemet 737).

Behavioral nicknames and nicknames derived from personality characteristics are also popular, ‘o Saglienne (the Climber), and ‘o Chiacchere (the Chatterbox) (Jacquemet 738). There are usually interesting and amusing stories that go along with these nicknames:


“The grandfather of my best friend was named Luigi, but we always called him Lui de Sgnoccie, which means “Lui the Big Drinker.” He had what is called a drinking problem, although the only person who had a problem with his drinking was his wife. She sent him to sleep in the barn while she slept in the nice house. But even so, he had a great sense of humor which everybody except his wife enjoyed.” (Mazzoni)


This story and category tie in nicely with the category of nicknames that fall under the heading of habits and past events or experiences. ‘O Biberon (the Feeding Bottle) refers to a child that drinks from a baby bottle well into his childhood (Jacquemet 738).

The occupation that a person has is another efficient way to identify them. Some old professions that made good nicknames for the times were, ‘o Suararo (the Corkmaker), ‘o Gravunari (the Coal Miner), and ‘o Cucchieriello (the Coachman) (Jacquemet 738).

The characters in Christ In Concrete beautifully represent all of these unique and intriguing nickname categories. Some of the characters that are merrily called by a nickname that is representative of a physical trait are, as I mentioned before, Julio “Snoutnose,” known for his mustache; Curly-headed Lazarene, known for his abundant curly hair; Mike “Orangepeel-Face,” known for his crater complexion; Salvatore “Four-Eyes,” known for his glasses; Black Mike, known for his extremely dark skin; Old Santos, known for his white hair and elderly appearance, and Yellow-Fever Giuseppe known for the yellow tone of his skin. After Uncle Luigi loses his leg in an accident at work, he is known as “Luigi One Leg,” and it is amusing to most that he is to wed “big-titted Cola,” obviously known for the size of her breasts. (183)

One of the most detailed explanations that di Donato gives in his novel about the reasoning behind a nickname of a character, is that of Nick “the Lucy’s.” It falls under the category of “a person’s favorite thing” and is explained in an entertaining dialogue between Nazone and Paul:


“Sh-sh, behind his back you will hear him named the Lucy, but for God’s love do not ever let slip from your mouth that name!”
“Why?”
“Because his favorite opera is Lucia de Lammermoor, and then he, like a woman, is mobile and goes insane asylum if he hears himself thus referred to.” (78)


There are also a few characters in Christ in Concrete that are nicknamed after their place of origin, Bastian the Calabrian and Alfredo the Neapolitan.

In Italian-American culture nicknames become so common and prominent that the non-use of them becomes a problem, “People identify themselves and each other by their nicknames, not by their legal first or last name. In fact, using the “actual” names can be very confusing to the local people. If you talk about somebody using their real name, nobody knows who you’re talking about!” (Mazzoni) It can go even further than this; sometimes real-names are lost all together, “Not even my mother, who grew up with him, knows his real name” (Mazzoni).

I have run into this issue myself. The use of nicknames runs deep in my family. We affectionately call each other nicknames, and we refer to others by using nicknames that we assign to them. Most people aren’t aware of the nicknames we have for them, and we would be embarrassed if they accidentally found out, and it is all too easy to slip! It is not necessarily that our nicknames are derogatory, but it is more that we feel that most people don’t understand our innocent tradition and they might even think we are crazy. The people outside of our family that know us well, and that we feel comfortable with, are well aware of our nicknaming fetish. We are actually well known for this practice. We nickname our pets and even other people’s pets!

This crazy nickname obsession can’t help but spill over into our “beyond family and friends” worlds. At college all of my friends point out that I have a nickname for everyone and everything. At work my father is famous, and counted on, for his astounding nicknaming skills. Back in his days of bricklaying, he and his co-workers even had a nickname for their fellow worker, the master of incorporating the Italian-American tradition of nicknaming into a novel…yes that’s right…Pietro di Donato himself. They playfully called him “Pervy Peter” because of the notoriously dirty way he talked about women.

It is pretty obvious that in the Italian-American culture, the tradition of nicknaming misses nobody. Even the historically infamous, former Mayor of New York, Fiorello La Guardia had multiple nicknames: The Little Flower, Little Napoleon, The Great Infallible, Midget Mussolini, and last but not least, the nickname that years later has been applied to another former Mayor of New York, Rudolph Giuliani, Il Sacro Terrore (The Holy Terror.) (Tierney) Nicknaming is just another way for Italians and Italian-Americans to show love. And what do they do better? For me it is just another heartwarming answer to why I am they way I am. I am just glad that we could share this warm, unifying custom with the rest of the world.

Works Cited

Addario, Sara and Bonnie Rulli. Italian-American-Webring. 31 May. 1999 28 Feb. 2001 http://geocities.com/Heartland/Trail/3860/Nicknames.html

Arduini, Frank. 5 Aug. 1999 3 Mar. 2001 http://www.arduini.net/names/names14.htm

Di Donato, Pietro. Christ In Concrete. New York: Signet, 1993.

Jacquemet, Marco. “Namechasers.” American Ethnologist. 19.4 (1992): 733-44.

Mazzoni, Claudia. Claudia’s Corner. 14 Feb. 1999 3 Mar. 2001 http://home.earthlink.net/~girowt/site/archive/990207.htm

Tierney, John. “The Holy Terror.” New York Times Magazine. 1995 7 Mar. 2001 http://www.maniform.com/prolix/giue.htm


f you wish to comment on this paper or ask me any questions, please write to me at sleggio@zoo.uvm.edu

April 29, 2001
All Rights Reserved

Return to Professor Rosa's English 187 Italian American Literature home page.

]]> 2008-05-26T22:51:00-08:00 http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php/weblog1/christ_in_concrete_and_the_failure_of_catholicism/ Italian American Literature
Pietro DiDonato’s Christ in Concrete is a powerful narrative of the struggles and culture of New York’s Italian immigrant laborers in the early twentieth century. Jerre Mangione and Ben Morreale, in their historical work La Storia, state that "Never before or since has the aggravation of the Italian immigrant been more bluntly expressed by a novelist" (368). A central component of this "aggravation", both for DiDonato as an author and for his protagonist Paul, is the struggle to reconcile traditional religious beliefs and customs with the failure of that very same faith to provide any tangible improvement in the immigrants’ lives. Through Paul’s experience, we observe the Catholic institutions lose influence and effectiveness as Capitalist ones, manifest in Job, take their place. While doing this, DiDonato also illustrates essential aspects of Italian (specifically southern) Catholicism and the pressures placed upon it by the American environment.

The novel opens by introducing Paul’s father Geremio, his mother Annunziata, and Job. Geremio is a construction crew supervisor who struggles to improve his family’s condition, and even though he has been making progress, he still wonders how much more will be exacted from him. A religiously faithful man, he asks God for guidance: "Is it not possible to breathe God’s air without fear dominating the pall of unemployment? And the terror of production for Boss, Boss, and Job? To rebel is to lose all of the very little. To be obedient is to choke. O dear Lord, guide my path" (13). Geremio articulates the conflict he feels between Boss and Job, which rules his earthly life, and the struggle of his spirit. The pressures have not crushed his faith, but he understands the toll they are taking, and the possible consequences.

Moments after asking the Lord for help, the building which he is working on collapses on and around Geremio and his fellow workers. It is Good Friday, and he is only a few hours away from going home to celebrate with his family. DiDonato describes the accident and deaths in lurid, even grisly, detail. Geremio’s mangled body, pierced through with metal reenforcement rods, is held up with arms outstretched for his crucification. As wet cement pours onto him, burying him alive, he desperately implores Christ for help: "Blood vessels burst like mashed flower stems. He screamed. ‘Show yourself now, Jesu! Now is the time! Save me! Why don’t you come! Are you there! I cannot stand it–ohhh, why do you let it happen—where are you? Hurry hurry hurry!’" (18). The almighty wrath of Job is too strong, as Geremio’s faith fails to provide him with assistance or comfort. DiDonato himself was a bricklayer whose father died in a construction accident on Good Friday. His personal experience became the impetus for the novel and the rage contained within it.

Despite the devastating blow of Geremio’s death, his wife Annunziata does not lose faith, though she is doubtful about how the family will manage to survive without him. She initially counts on help from her brother Luigi, but the subsequent maiming of his legs in another Job accident leaves Annunziata and her eight children destitute. It is now the responsibility of Paul, at twelve years old the eldest male of the family, to seek provision for all of them. One of the first places that he turns for help, both spiritual and material, is his local church. There he prays in earnest: "Here in the church of worship I kneel, my Lord. You have taken dear father away for your own need...can you not send him back, O Lord?" (55). His father’s return not forthcoming, Paul decides to appeal to the priest for food and help. After a struggle, he is finally permitted to enter the chambers and see Father John. The priest has been at his dinner; Paul’s ravenous eyes see a huge table groaning under the weight of sumptuous food. He tells his story to the priest, whose response is, "But tell me, what can I do?" (58). He goes on to explain that he does not personally give any charity, since that is handled by a board of trustees, and that he can do nothing to help Paul and his family. He finally sends Paul away with a piece of strawberry shortcake to take home, and wishes him well. Presumably, he returns to his full table to finish his supper undisturbed.

This scene clearly illustrates the total failure of the Church as an institution to assist the real conditions of the Italian immigrants. The situation is not confined to the narrative of Christ in Concrete, but was an issue for the Italian community at large. Despite their entrenched belief in God and the rewards of heaven, the faith in which was connected to their strong and often limiting fatalism, the population was generally wary of priests and even the church itself. In La Storia, the immigrants are described as being "...generally scornful of all priests, viewing them as both corrupting and corruptible. ‘If you want to be rich,’ an adage advised, ‘become a thief, a policeman, or a priest’" (327). In Mario Puzo’s The Fortunate Pilgrim, an old neighborhood widow discusses the misbehavior of the protagonist Lucia Santa’s son, Lorenzo. The old woman says "Oh, he is sly, your son, he will be a priest" (143). Though Lorenzo becomes a small-time gangster, and not a priest, it is apparent that the immigrants regard one profession as being roughly as honorable as the other.

The traditional practice of the Italian church was to work in compliance with the wealthy and politically powerful aristocracy. Although this created tensions between the peasants and clergy, the system was so traditional that even though the lower classes may have objected to it, it was at least generally accepted and tolerated. In America however, the Irish controlled Catholic church usually failed to understand, and sometimes even tolerate, the "paganism" of their Italian parishioners. Mangione and Morreale comment that "The initial failure of the American Catholic church to reach out to the Italian immigrants gave rise to the general impression that this Church was even more indifferent to their needs than the Church in Italy had been" (327). In America, though more opportunity existed, the immigrants had the additional pressures of a strange land, language, and culture to navigate. While the need for material help was often as great as ever, and sometimes even worse, the need for spiritual help was increased. The Irish-controlled Catholic institutions in America failed on both counts, whereas in Italy customs of worship had at least been communally understood and participated in. Fred L. Gardaphe, in his introduction to Christ in Concrete, comments that DiDonato "...points to the failure of American Catholicism as a force that controls and subdues the immigrants’ reactions to the injustices of the capitalist system that exploits as it maims and kills the Italian immigrant" (xvi). Religion, rather than inciting the immigrants to object to injustice, instead encourages them to forbear and accept fate while waiting patiently for their rewards in the next world.

After Paul is rejected by the Church, and implicitly God, he decides that he must turn to Job instead. God had been in the Church, but "Job was a six-story apartment" (63). Initially, Job seems to answer his prayers. He commences work, confident that he will be able to provide for himself and his family. He learns quickly, and is proud of his progress. After finishing his first piece of brickwork, he admires it and thinks: "The Lord has listened to him...The Lord and his father worked with him to build it!" (71). Though the Church did not come to his aid, Paul’s faith is unshaken as he believes that God has brought him to Job, Job that can give work, money and life. Annunziata is worried about her young son going out to toil, even as she rejoices over his courage and the hope he represents. She prays to God to protect him, to Job to be merciful on his child’s body and soul. Annunziata is "...Builder’s woman and Life’s mother..." to Paul, "...her carpenter Christ, her Christ of hunger" (82). Through his sacrifices his is to be the family’s savior.

But this is not, at least immediately, to be. Paul receives only five dollars for his week’s work, his frail form quickly gives out under the weight of Job, and he is forced to stop working. Hunger once again becomes terrifyingly real for Annunziata and her children. They are confronted with the fact that Job is all-powerful, as is God. It can give life, food, happiness, but it also takes back whatever and whenever it chooses. It takes lives such as Geremio’s, it took Luigi’s leg, and it has taken all of the strength out of Paul, leaving him with even fewer resources than before.

At this point, with her family’s situation reaching an even more desperate pitch, Annunziata decides to that she must take action. Rather than going to church to pray to God or Christ, she takes Paul with her for an interview with "the Cripple", to help her seek assistance in her dead husband’s soul. The Cripple is a woman purported to have powers of communication with the spirit world (or "woild", as she pronounces it) for the edification of those still living in this one. Though Annunziata is a faithfully religious woman, when things really get bad she turns to the Cripple, essentially a pagan figure, to augment her prayers. This seemingly incongruous act is, however, actually typical of the southern Italian brand of Catholicism. Mangione and Morreale describe this Catholicism as "...based on awe, fear, and reverence for the supernatural, ‘a fusion of Christian and pre-Christian elements of animism, polytheism, and sorcery along with the sacraments prescribed by the Church’" (326). Annunziata is hoping that the Cripple’s "sorcery" will be able to comfort, give advice, and direct her life materially for the better–all things which the Church has not done, even for someone as faithful as she.

As Annunziata and Paul pass through the doorway into the Cripple’s room, they walk under "...a sooty wooden lettered sign, ‘Jesus Never Fails’" (110). Ironically enough, considering that if Jesus had answered their prayers in the first place, they wouldn’t be walking through that doorway seeking answers from a false prophet with a goiter. The falseness of the Cripple’s craft matters little, however, since she does succeed in comforting Annunziata and Paul, renewing their faith and hope. Paul is anxious to know that his father did not suffer in his death, and the Cripple reassures him by saying "‘No, sonny, he shakes his head and says there wasn’t a stitch of pain, and that he went to his Lord God with a clean soul and a smile’" (116). We know how blatantly false this is, but for Paul and Annunziata, that is irrelevant. She believes in the Cripple’s powers to speak the truth as surely as she believes in God; the words of the pagan serve to strengthen her belief in the good works of the Lord.

Despite Paul’s lifted spirits following the session with the Cripple and his recovering health, he soon receives a blow to his faith in God. One of his friends in his tenement is Louis, a boy his age who immigrated from Russia. Louis’ older brother was murdered for his opposition to the Czar, as were many of Louis’ villagers and acquaintances. Louis, who has witnessed ungodly suffering and destruction, completely rejects fatalism. He desires justice and retribution here and now for the crimes committed against his brother and others. When Paul maintains that only the spirit of God can do such things, Louis questions him closely:

"‘You have seen your father.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You knew your father?’
‘Yes...’
‘And you know your mother?’
‘Of course.’
‘And you love them.’
‘Why, yes.’
‘Have you seen God?’
Paul felt something weakening him.
‘Louis–haven’t you–don’t you believe in God?’
The gray eyes turned full on him.
‘There is no God.’" (140)
Paul has never heard or imagined such a thing before, but the idea, once in place, cannot be forgotten.

Immediately following Louis’ declaration Job re-enters. As God begins to slip as something for Paul to believe in and trust, Job increases its own hold on his body and psyche. This Job was "... A great mass of interwinding stone foundation walls lay waiting to bear building on its rubble shoulders" (141). Paul recommences to work and support his family, and though this improves their condition, it never ceases to wear Paul down. God is fleeting, but Job is real and immediate and tangible. It is an "...expanding organism–banging, groaning, thudding and pushing UP" (142). To it Paul is "joined in bondage", and from its influence he cannot escape. It is alive, it provides work and life to all of the Italian men in Paul’s community, as it demands that they pay daily homage to it.

However, as Job gives, it always takes. When the depression hits, construction slows down and most men lose their work. For those who haven’t yet lost their jobs, Paul included, Job becomes even more exacting than ever. There is more struggle for less reward, as the men try desperately to remain employed. Every day Paul walks to "Job Almighty" with his godfather Nazone through the streets of "New Babylon" (216). Though he is more tired and worn than ever, he manages to continues the routine unaltered, until he watches his godfather fall from Job to his death. A foreman, on his way to reprimand Nazone for slow work, tripped over a mortar tub and fell into him, pushing him off the structure. The foreman had been shouting at him "‘Y’bastard you’re slow’s the comin’ o’ Christ!’" (216). This is the final blow to Paul’s already weakened faith. As he sees Nazone’s destroyed body on the pavement "A flame shot though him. ‘That’s your father Geremio!’ it cried, ‘Your father! You!’" (219). He cannot understand why they continue to be sacrificed.

Paul dreams following the accident, looking for an answer. He dreams that he is looking for Christ, for a sign from his savior, but finds Job instead. Finally, he meets his father, who labors at Job. Looking to him for help, Geremio replies that "‘...not even the Death can free us, for we are. . . Christ in concrete . . .’" (226). Paul fully realizes how unfair his life, the lives of the other immigrants, are. They spend their lives praying to God and hoping for rewards after death, but he has lost his faith. Job is all that is left to him. Though he sees that eventually it will do to him what it did to his father, his uncle, and his godfather, Job is inevitable and inescapable. Though Annunziata is greatly grieved by his loss of faith in the Lord, Christ, and salvation, she can do nothing to alter him; the force of Job has been too strong. Mangione and Morreale write of the scene: "When his devout mother thrusts a crucifix upon him in an effort to comfort her son, who has just seen his godfather (a fellow worker) smashed to death in another job accident, he crushes ‘the plaster man wooden cross’ in her presence. Symbolically, at least, he develops into a revolutionary" (367).

While DiDonato’s message and Paul’s rejection of religion is in some sense revolutionary, in the context of the narrative it is also the inevitable result of a number of causes. Paul and the workers labor under the extraordinary strain of Job, a strain which is compounded by the memories of accidents they have either seen, survived, or know of. Yet, when they need help, there is nowhere else to turn. Paul doesn’t arrive at Job, doesn’t decide to dedicate his life to it, as his first choice. He only does so after other institutions, namely the Church, fail to provide assistance. As a result, Job naturally becomes the central all-powerful force in the lives of the laborers. It is to Job they go every day, and to Job that they dedicate themselves. As the Church failed to help them materially, it also often fails to help them spiritually beyond encouraging them to accept their plight as fate. Once arrived at this state, it is a natural consequence that Paul loses his faith God and the Catholic institution as they are supplanted by the Capitalist institution of Job. Though he resents and wishes to break free from Job, he sees no alternative, it is all that is left to him.

March 5, 2000
All Rights Reserved

Return to Professor Rosa's English 187 Italian American Literature home page. ]]> 2008-05-26T22:39:00-08:00 http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php/weblog1/a_bronx_tale_back_on_broadway_and_giving_back/

HELP SUPPORT THE ITALIAN AMERICAN MUSEUM AND TAKE PART IN THIS UNIQUE OPPORTUNITY

Hi, I’m Chazz Palminteri and over the past few years I have been extremely blessed with all the amazing opportunities that have led to my current success. But I have never forgotten my roots and now that I am fortunate enough to have my story, A BRONX TALE, back on Broadway, we are going to donate $10 from every ticket sold through this offer to the Italian American Museum. I invite you to support the museum and our culture by coming to see me perform A BRONX TALE. It’s a story I love to tell. I think you’ll love it too. Chazz

Orchestra and Mezzanine rows A-G/ Boxes: $96.50
Mezzanine rows G-J: $76.50
Balcony A-B: $26.50

Three easy ways to purchase tickets and in turn support the Museum

1. Visit Broadwayoffers.com and enter the code BTMUS34
2. Call 212-947-8844 and mention code BTMUS34
3. Bring a print out of this offer to the box office.

RESTRICTIONS: All prices include a $1.50 theatre restoration charge. This offer is valid through 2/10/08. Offer is subject to availability and prior sale; not valid on prior purchases; cannot be combined with other discounts or promotions. Additional blackout dates may apply. Telephone and Internet orders are subject to standard service fees. Offer may be revoked at any time.

A Bronx Tale
Walter Kerr Theatre
219 West 48th Street

Performance: Tuesday - Friday @ 8pm, Saturday @ 2pm & 8pm,
Sunday @ 3pm

Special Sunday Night Performances in December: Sunday - December 9 @ 7pm, Sunday - December 16 @ 7pm, Sunday - December 23 @ 7pm,
Sunday - December 30 @ 7pm

No Performance: Tuesday - December 25 @ 8pm
Added Holiday performance: Wednesday - December 26 @ 2pm


Walter Kerr Box Office Hours:
Monday-Saturday 10am-8pm
Sunday 12pm-6pm
PLEASE NOTE: Box office opened till 7PM on 12/9, 12/16, 12/23, 12/30

For further information, call 212.541.1021.

See what the critics are saying:

“A rejuvenating act of faith in the powers of acting and storytelling. It has heart, spice, and humor.” Charles Isherwood, The New York Times

“With eight million stories in the city, there’s one out of the Bronx that’s knockin’ them dead on Broadway. Intensely raw, funny and moving, ‘A Bronx Tale hits home.” Roma Torre, NY1 News.

“Enormously entertaining. A vibrant, warmhearted saga.” Michael Kuchwara, Associated Press.

“A gripping story – riveting, sinister & colorful!” - Jacques Le Sourd, The Journal News.

]]> 2007-12-03T17:55:01-08:00 http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php/weblog1/scongiuri_salerno/ Italian Folk Medicine & Blessing Rituals, Scongiuri


S.Biase Ceraso (SA)]]> 2007-11-28T16:40:00-08:00 http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php/weblog1/contro_la_malaria/ Italian Folk Medicine & Blessing Rituals, Scongiuri contro le malattie
Una comare che crede possederne la facoltà si accosta al malato, scioglie del sale in acqua, spruzza di questa la casa, segna delle croci, tagliuzza sul petto di lui una crocetta di foglie di palma, recita un credo; fa cadere sui suoi piedi un po’ delle foglie tagliuzzate e dice:

Vi salutu pani e tassu,

Lu càudu e lu friddu ccà lu lassa;

Alleggiu la testa; m’aggrava a li pedi,

Torna e riveni la saluti arreri.

Versione: Vi saluto pane e tasso! – Lascio quì il caldo e il freddo: – alleggerisco il capo, m’aggravo sui piedi, – e così torna di nuovo [arreri] la salute.

Segue un’avemaria recitata a metà da lei, a metà da altre donne.

In mezzo della stanza brucia delle erbe secche, e vi sparge sopra dell’incenso: e quando il fumo si è levato denso, si scopre le mammelle, si prostra bocconi per terra, e, seguìta dalle altre, recita questo scongiuro in più parte inintelligibile:

Ti toccu e nun ti toccu!

Ti viju e nun ti viju!

Furcu, befurcu, lurcu, cataturcu!

Ti curcu, ti sturcu, ti ’nfurcu

Cu acqua e sali

E ’ncenzu chi la virtù havi.

Pri li chiaghi di Gesù, non cci accusentu!

E ’ncenzu e sali e acqua ogni mumentu

Dintra la fossa

Li luti e li scruzzati vilinenti:

Sutta li denti

Ti strudinu l’ossa!

Versione: Ti tocco e non ti tocco! – ti vedo e non ti vedo! – Furcu, roba da capestro (bifurcu), lurcu, arciempio (cataturcu) – ti corico, ti storco (?), t’afforco – con acqua e sale ed incenso che ha la virtù [di farti gran male). – Per le piaghe di Gesù, io (protesto che) non approvo! – E incenso e sale ed acqua ad ogni momento! – Dentro la fossa – (sono) i vermi ed i tristi insetti velenosi – sotto i denti, – ti corrodono le ossa!













http://librarsi.comune.palermo.it/librarsi/cms/librarsi/polo/index.html]]> 2007-11-22T19:25:00-08:00 http://www.rueskitchen.com/index.php/weblog1/contro_il_mal_di_milza/ Italian Folk Medicine & Blessing Rituals, Scongiuri contro le malattie
a) Per tre mattine di seguito, in sul far dell’alba, si pricanta in questa maniera:

Un uomo sano o una donna sana che voglia guarire un altro, si volge verso l’oriente, e con un’accetta in mano sulla parte ammalata viene segnando tante croci quanti sono i seguenti versi; tenendo presente che all’ultimo verso debba lasciarsi cader di mano l’accetta. Il pricantu è questo:

Ti salutu, bon’alba e bonu Ddiu

Tagghiatimi la mèusa supra lu corpu miu:

Lassatiminni un pizzuddu

Quantu mangiu e bivu.

Versione: Ti saluto buona alba e buon Dio. – Tagliate sul mio corpo la milza, – lasciatemene [però] un pezzettino, – tanto che io possa mangiare e bere che io possa continuare a vivere].

Per ciascuna delle tre mattine lo scongiuro si ripete tre volte. Casalvecchio).



b)

Squagghia, squagghia, mèusa mia,

Comu nesci lu suli d’Elia,

Sarbiminni quantu serbi a mia.

Versione: Squaglia, squaglia, milza mia, – come esce il sole d’Elia, – serbane per me quanto ne ho di bisogno io.

Mentre si recita questo scongiuro si fa strofinando sul fianco sinistro una miscela di olio di mattone, olio di cotone, succo di articolazioni di fichi d’India e farina di segala. (Acireale).



c) Si ha una variante dello scongiuro, ed è la seguente, nella quale la milza si vuol portarla via intera:

Sona Santu, o campana pia.

Tagghia la mèusa sinu a la cima.

E tantu la pozza tagghiari,

Chi nun putissi nè crisciri nè ammancari (Mazzara).

Versione: Suona Santo, o campana pia, – taglia la milza [mia] fino all’alto, – e tanto tu possa tagliarla – che essa non cresca ne diminuisca più!

Si mette in un piattello dell’olio e del sale, vi si bagnano le dita della mano diritta e si poggia questa sul fianco ov’è il gonfiore, mettendovi sopra l’altra mano. In questa posizione si fanno quattro strofinazioni rette, una ad ogni verso, ed in modo da formare due croci, recitando la preghiera:

Quannu sona la prima campana

Avissi a passari sta mèusa ’n chinu;

Ni resta quantu ’na pinna di gaddina

Pri fari culazioni la matina.

Tutta l’operazione bisogna replicarla tre volte e per tre giorni di seguito. Se fatta di mercoledì o di sabato basta un solo giorno.

Nel frattempo all’ammalato che sta supino si fa recitare un’ave e un pater alla Madonna, e poi gli si raccomanda di fare per 8 giorni strofinazioni di olio e sale, di non mangiare pane asciutto, e di tenersi a cibi leggieri.

Perché la preghiera riesca deve essere appresa la notte di Natale. (Acitrezza).














http://librarsi.comune.palermo.it/librarsi/cms/librarsi/polo/index.html]]> 2007-11-22T19:23:00-08:00