— —— — La colpa di essere nati: Exile Through the Eyes of Italian Jews Song of Exile Exile is the emptiness—for however much you brought with you, there's far more you've left behind. Exile is the ego that shrinks, for how can you prove what you were and what you did? Exile is the erasure of pride. Exile is the escape that is often worse than the prison. Exile is the xenophobe—for every single one who likes you, you'U find ten in whom there is nothing but hate. Exile is the loneliness in the middle of a crowd Exile is longing never to be fulfilled, it is love unrequited, the loss never replaced the listless, loveless, long wait for the train that never arrives, the piane that never gets off the ground. Exile is the end and never the beginning Exile is the eruption whose lava stream carries you away it is the etemity measured in minutes, the eyes that never enjoy the familiar sight, the ears that listen to alien music. Exile is a song that only the singer can hear. Exile is an illness that not even death can cure—for how can you rest in soil that did not nourish you? Exile is the waming example to those who stili bave their homes, who belong. But will you take heed of the waming? (Cited by labori 14) The Italian writer Primo Levi urges us to answer that questioiì. The danger in viewing another as an Other, of believing that "ogni straniero è nemico" lies 40 LA COLPA DI ESSERE NATI 41 in its overwhelming destructive power, for when this "dogma inespresso diventa premessa maggiore di un sillogismo," Levi wams us, "allora, al termine della catena, sta il Lager" (Se questo è un uomo 9). On the tenth of January, 1 946, almost a year after Primo Levi's release from Auschwitz, he wrote a poem entitled "Shemà " His poem, addressed to those who "stili have their homes, who belong" juxtaposes their image of comfort to the image ofa prisoner, "reduced to bestiai condition, only questionably a human being" (Harrowitz 32). His words ask us to consider whether a man is stili a man, and a woman stili a woman when subjected to the utmost atrocities. For at Auschwitz, as Elie Wiesel wrote, "not only man died, but also the idea of man" (in Literaty Exile 705): Voi che vivete sicuri Nelle vostre tiepide case. Voi che trovate tornando a sera D cibo caldo e visi amici: Considerate se questo è un uomo. Che lavora nel fango Che non conosce pace Che lotta per mezzo pane Che muore per un si o per un no. Considerate se questa è una donna. Senza capelli e senza nome Senza più forza di ricordare Vuoti gli occhi e freddo il grembo Come una rana d'inverno. (LcV\, "Shemà," Ad ora incertàf While the first part of the poem confronts the reader with a question, the second part of the poem commands him to never forget it: Meditate che questo è stato: Vi comando queste parole. Scolpitele nel vostro cuore Stando in casa andando per via, Coricandovi alzandovi: Ripetetele ai vostri figli. vi si sfaccia la casa. La malattia vi impedisca, 1 vostri nati torcano il viso da voi. Levi's words are a paraphrase of the Shemà,^ the most basic and essential prayer in Judaism. Recited daily, it is a cali to monotheism, a command to love 42 CARTE ITALIANE the Lord, to teach and forever remember His word: Hear O Israel: The Lord Our God, The Lord is One. And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with ali thy heart, and with ali thy soul, and with ali thy might. And these words which I command thee this day shall be in thy heart; and thou shall teach them diligently unto thy children, and thou shall talk of them when thou sittest in thy house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. (Deuteronomy 6) Levi's command, however, is of a much darker cali—it is the command required after the events of the Holocaust. And it is the curse upon those who forget, for their very forgetfulness lies in the perpetuation of such inhumanity. "Forgetfulness lies at the root of exile, just as remembrance lies at the root of deliverance," Elie Wiesel cautions us (Wiesel and de Saint-Cheron 96). It is for this reason that Holocaust survivors such as Primo Levi and Wiesel have striven to retell their stories, to resumé the survivor's sacred responsibility of hearing witness to the horrible truth. Levi sees it as "un dovere" yet also as "un rischio: il rischio di apparire anacronistici, di non essere ascoltati" ("1 sommersi e i salvati," Opere 819). For though there comes a healing in sharing, there lies the pain of recalling that which cannot be understood by those who have not experienced it. "E un godimento intenso, fisico, inesprimibile, essere nella mia casa, fra persone amiche, e avere tante cose da raccontare," Levi recalls in Se questo è un uomo, "ma non posso non accorgermi che i miei ascoltatori non mi seguono . essi sono del tutto indifferenti: parlano confusamente d'altro fra di loro, come se io non ci fossi" (53). As another Holocaust survivor observed, the univers concentrationnaire is "a universe apart, totally cut off, the weird kingdom of an unlikely fatality" (Radei iflf-Umstead 61). Exile proves inescap- able, for even upon one's return, it haunts the individuai. Exile, with its accompanying physical, psychological and religious anguish, has been an intrinsic part of Jewish thought and history since the destruction of the First Tempie. The image of the Wandering Jew forever in exile, without a homeland, is merely a mirror of an historical reality.^ This exile has not only entailed physical and material displacement. For a people whose identity, at least initially, depended on their faith, an exile from Israel was devastating since their religion was intrinsically tied to the land. As expressed in the prayer, "The Anguish ofZion:" The headstone [Jerusalem] has been tumed into ruins, into a plowing ground, and the inheritors of the Heritage [Torah] have become an object of scorn among the nations. My heart aches within me, pained and anguished, for we LA COLPA DI ESSERE NATI 43 are left as without a father and have become as orphans. [Israel,] tender and delicate, who was surrounded by a hedge of roses, is now in distress [and] is handed over into the band of ber adversaries. [Jerusalem] tbe faitbful city bas become as a window, and tbe children [of Israel of wbom it is said,] "Wbo can count them?" bave been sold witbout money. (Cited in Front Exile to Redemption 3)* This spiritual anguish was felt intensely by a population who, strong in religious faith, suffered a feeling ofbeing disconnected from the Divine. As the Jewish people resettled in other lands, a new attachment to the adopted homeland often challenged the spiritual coimection previously felt for the holy land, Israel. With loyalties tom, a return to the spiritual homeland was not always easy. As the Jewish Italian poet Angiolo Orvieto expressed in his poem "Il vento di Sion:" The beckoning mirage of Zion is smail comfort to a Fiorentine Jew even if I too dream bappily of palm trees and of Temple's columns arisen again Too much lively Latin wind bas stirred my Eastem blood lulled by age old indolence Palm trees, yes, but the cypresses of Florence? The Tempie, yes, but what of this cathedra] with its marble flowering in the sky? I am not like him, the one who calls for me like a human beli, for I would not be able to tum my back on my Tuscan people even though at times they cry "Down with the Jews" Here are my roots, too painful to sever . and then, for what dream? The Messiah will come, but perhaps not quite yet Leave me be with this air, these bronzes and Verrochio's marbles, the smiling images of Ghirland with the octaves of my beloved Poliziano! (Cited in Garden and Ghettos 153) This poem, written in 1928, was witness to another crisis occurring within the Jewish community. With the progressive emancipation of Jews throughout Europe during the nineteenth century, the Jewish community faced a period of change and instability. Assimilation, accompanied by frequent conversions to Christianity, weakened Jewish identity and faith. The rise of positivism in science and philosophy further undermined traditional religious beliefs. Inevitably, Jewish communities became "less clearly defined and there ensued 44 CARTE ITALIANE a collective crisis of assimilation and identity" (Moloney 56). Ironically, marginalization from scx;iety had helped to maintain Jewish values and identity. Assimilation within society and loss of religious faith did not, however, free the Jews of their cultural heritage. At the tum of the century Italian Jews, no longer confined to the walls of the ghetto, stili felt the burden of their Jewishness. Italo Svevo, seertiingly oblivious to his cultural and religious heritage, suffered the "small discomfitures of being a Jew without any of the consolations of Judaism" (Moloney 57). In 1880, he was refiised employment because of his "Israelite" heritage. The writer's use ofnumerous pseudonyms attests to a desire to conceal his origins; origins which he solemnly acknowledges as being difficult for his two Jewish literary friends, Umberto Saba and Giacomo Debenedetti. Contemplating an essay on Kafka, he cormnented: "Yes, he was a Jew. Certainly, the Jew's position is not a comfortable one" (Gatt-Rutter 57).