THE ITALIAN "RESISTENZA": WOMEN WRITINGS
(by Myriam Trevisan,
PhD student in Women studies at
"La Sapienza" University of Rome)
In between history and
literature
During the Italian "resistenza" the
role of women changes radically. The Italian woman is abruptly involved in
politics, social and cultural issues. To this purpose the war acts as
triggering agent. It is, in fact, the war to create a space for women on a
public front: women get the chance to be productive, to bear public
responsibilities and to be brave; they make their own way through those social
roles which were once restricted to men alone. At the same time women keep
their traditional positions as mothers, wives and sisters.
As the war comes to a close most of the women
directly involved in the liberation movement take a step back, returning to
their private lives without receiving any medals or acknowledgements. A few of
them, though, become aware of the singularity of their experience and choose to
leave behind a recording of what they lived through. Some write as events take
place, others wait decades before going over their experience. The memoirs and
autobiographies which came as a result of such recordings are, today, a
precious source of insight on the history and evolution of women in our
century.
These writings are far more than the
documentation of events from an objective point of view. They portray an
interesting field of investigation in terms of literary studies, as they offer
a key to approach different types of writing and the different angles from
which the writer portrays herself within the story she is narrating. Moreover
they offer a chance to reflect on the diversities in selfawareness and the
thought pattern the writer conveys on the art of writing in itself.
The memoirs on the resistenza thus become an
important and vast field to research in terms of history and poetic imagery; of
factual references and selfportraits.
A first approach to the writings from the
period of the resistenza comes across a striking contradiction: if on the one
hand there is a large quantity of material, on the other there is a total lack
of names in the Italian literary horizon[1].
This conspicuous production has, in fact, been
overlooked as it did not fall within the boundaries of the Italian neorealismo’s
literary parameters. In not being easily definable through the traditional
categories of literary interpretation, and in its not falling smoothly within
the male/neutral universal models, it was left on the outskirts of the
"official" literature. Consequently, to approach such materials
entails an effort to review the traditional critical parameters and to propose
a new analytical methodology which should take into account the subjective
reality experienced by each individual writer.
If we start from a scientific hypothesis which
considers such writings as essential sources to diagnose the void existing
between the image of women portrayed by tradition and the self-awareness
developed by individual women, it is possible to reconstruct a different point
of view on history which may take into account women’s role. At the same time,
in considering such writings in relation to the existing literary tradition, we
may reconstruct the cultural horizon of those years, and thereby offer a
multilevel perspective, which will result interesting in its variety.
The striking lack of names within the literary
storiography’s recordings, may be completed by a thorough work of research and
study in the archives to find those personal writings (such as letters, diaries
and autobiographies) and public writings (novels and short stories) which, as
voices rising out of silence, may tell the story of women during the struggle
for liberation.
The most important samples of literary history
name a single woman writer among twentieth century authors- Renata Viganò- as
author of a novel on the resistenza L’Agnese
va a morire[2].
Other names or titles only appear in specific
critical essays, written by scholars who, starting in the seventies, worked to
try to bring into the light and place within the literary criticism’s horizon
such women and such writings[3].
Still today, many works are forgotten, many pieces of the "grande catalogo
delle assenze e del silenzio"[4],
that should slowly be reconstructed.
This essays doesn’t mean to trace a complete
profile of women’s writings during the Resistenza. The intention is that of
creating a first step of a journey which is all to be discovered. The essay
will point out some of the many writings found to this day, to trace a number
of lines of analysis and highlight a few troublesome spots. In order to keep
the field of analysis narrow the essay will leave out novels and short stories.
Beyond literary genres
The first element to come to attention from
reading the material is the difference in the techniques of writing each woman
chooses to exploit. On the one hand, it is possible to draw a line between
private and public writings, and further, between women who chose to make
writing a career and others who published solely to record their experience. On
the other hand, one must necessarily acknowledge the difficulty of placing such
writers within the literary tradition’s genre-schemes.
The line separating diaries from memoirs and
autobiographies is frequently as quaint as that which parts documentative
writing from creative writing. As a consequence of the singularity of the
historical period, characterised by the constant threat of being arrested or
spotted, it is rare to find true
diaries from the period, diaries intended as daily annotations of events and
emotions, although many of the writings are labelled as such.
An unusual case is that of Bandiera rossa e borsa nera[5]
by Gloria Chilanti. The author, a thirteen year old girl at the time of the
narrated events, keeps a diary of the police’s prosecutions in 1944, as she is
hidden in a secret place on a terrace. These thoughts will remain hidden in a
drawer for fifty years, after the end of the war. They will be published, under
the insistence of two friends, Carla Capponi and Saverio Tutino, in 1998.
Although Gloria Chilanti is not sure she was in
herself aware of the singularity of the months of hiding during their time, her
father certainly was as it was he to give her the diary as a Christmas gift in
1943[6].
The diary, originally called Diario 1944, follows the daily history
of an adolescent girl coping with Italian "resistenza" from "the
1st of January, Saturday", to "the 16th of September, Saturday".
As a form of historical loyalty, the writer chose not to edit the original
version, keeping everything as it was, errors included.
With few exceptions, which narrate the events
as they are taking place, writings about the "resistenza" usually
retrace the events after their end. The writings sprout from notes taken during
the war. Amoungst the many writings of these kinds we can point out Diario partigiano[7]
by Ada Gobetti and I giorni veri[8]
by Giovanna Zangrandi.
In the first of the two the author tells, in a
footnote which is separate from the rest of the text and in italics, that she
has edited formerly written material[9].
Similarly, in the beginning of chapter three she says there is something
missing, due to the impossibility of taking note of all the specific events as
they happened, although being engraved in memory, they may be told, with a four
year delay.
Thus elements which are deeply rooted in memory
are rearranged in a later stage, and placed in an articulate structure which
binds together the daily annotations- which are headed with day, month and at
times place- in thirteen independent narrative sections.
Similarly, I
giorni veri are written as a diary of the period, in which events are told
with indications of place, date and year, sometimes indicated precisely,
sometimes hinted at in general terms (by naming the season). The diary is born,
as the other, from material collected during the years of hiding, that are
edited after almost twenty years[10].
The notes- which cover a time span running from
autumn 1942 to the 2nd of May 1945- are, in this case as well, divided in three
partitions (Quasi un prologo, Parte prima, Parte seconda), signs of the acknowledged presence of a writer
arranging the objective documents in a more ample narrative structure.
We may thus indicate as a type of writing
frequently used a peculiar form of diary in which the chronological running of
the daily entries, while guarantying the objective nature of what is being
told, is inserted in an authentically narrative structure. The author is, then,
endeavouring to edit the data accumulated in memory and contemporaneously to follow the path of the construction of an
identity.
A specific case in which the bonding of pages
written at the time of the events, and pages developed with the aide of memory
is L’attesa nell’ombra (Pagine di un
diario antifascista)[11] by Mirelia Tamassia. The work is formed
by three parts (Prefazione, Parte prima. Crepuscolo and Parte seconda. Notte, hinting at the
passing from light to shadow during the occupation), split in forty short and
numbered chapters. Within the narration of events in the past tense are
entwined fragments of a diary from the period[12]
that, during a prosecution by the SS, Tamassia destroys almost completely,
keeping only a few pages[13].
A different case from the diaries are the
memoirs of the partisans, writings in themselves characterised by a separation
of the information in sections by themes, unhooked to the temporal alignments.
Written years after the events narrated, these works achieve the goal of
narrating was has been experienced in first person during the "resistenza",
with the outward intention of making events rise above forgetfulness. The
narration, therefore, follows the path lead by memory - that, by definition,
may not be precise- and is generally shaped in a past tense that eludes
specific chronological divisions.
One of such books is Carla Capponi’s Con cuore di donna[14].
The author writes her autobiography by following memory’s pace and getting to
the years of her youth after her older years. The time of the
"resistenza" overlaps with the present over a span of ten chapters.
The chapters’ titles bear mention of the salient events.
A second example is that of Croce sulla schiena[15]
by Ida D’Este, written soon after the war’s end, in which the memoir is divided
in three sections (Una staffetta ricorda,
Palazzo Giusti, Triangoli rossi) - that trace different moments: combatant, prison
and exile. The three sections, in turn, are formed by short chapters with
titles which summarise their content.
Similarly, Elsa Oliva, in Ragazza Partigiana[16],
collects her memories of what she lived between 1943 and 1945, connecting them
with the different partisan groups or brigades with whom she participated: Bande irregolari in Alto Adige, in the
beginning, Brigata partigiana
"Franco Abrami" "Divisione Valtoce", in the end.
Different examples of memoirs are those written
by women that didn’t have the intention of documenting their presence in
history, but to testify, by placing themselves in the shadow, the heroic deeds
of a partisan (a husband, a son or a brother), who died in the struggle for freedom.
Works which fall in this partition have been published, for example, by Zanocco
in Padova in the "Collana della Cospirazione". Such writings - which
usually evoke in their title the partisan they wish to remember- display
themselves as complex works that, in order to document the historical events
narrated, collect different kinds of materials, such as letters, documents,
contributions.
Giovanni Carli e
l’altipiano di Asiago[17] by Lia Carli, wife of a partisan
who was a commissary in the Divisione Alpina M. Ortigara and who was murdered
along with Giacomo Chilesotti in Asiago, constitutes an example of this kind of
writings. The information, which consists in the wife’s memoirs, in those of
his partisan compagni, and in that gained from letters and documents collected
at the time, is divided in ten sections that narrate the partisan’s story and
celebrate his death.
In Giacomo
Chilesotti[18], Anna
Chilesotti arranges the material in four parts: in the first (Nettuno the protagonist’s war name),
there is a portrayal of the personality of the hero with memories of Anna and
his partisan compagni; the second (Al
comando dell’Ortigara) follows his doings as a conspirator, combining notes
and comments on the Battaglione Thiene, which he himself collected and wrote with
material of different kinds (worded, documentary); the third section (E nella cellula M.R.S.) talks about the
creation of "la prima e più efficente cellula radio clandestina del
Veneto"; in the final section (Si
eleva fino al sacrificio) the hero is celebrated and mourned, in short
writings and poems.
In opposition to the previous ones, these works
are written by women who deliberately erase their role as women partisans and
women writers, taking away from the story the relativity of their point of view,
so as to give the book objective credibility.
Types of
self-portraits
In the diaries and partisan memoirs two types
of self portraits combine, one bound to the past, that places the woman as a
protagonist in history, the other bound to the present, which confirms her as
writer. The sole case in which the time setting of the events coincides with
that of the writing, bringing together the two images, is that of the diaries.
This duplicity shadows the twofold significance
of writings which are important both as historical recordings and as
autobiographical works.
The two portraits- that of the writer as a
partisan, and that of the woman as a writer- although belonging to different
times and in themselves different, entwine and blend in the effort made to bring
back memory by narrating a story. In this sense the woman partisan is made real
through the writer’s pen.
The self-portraits the writers draw for us of
their role as conspirators in the struggle for liberation, reveal the
fundamental changes that the war had imposed on society and the separation from
the original female model which could no longer be followed. In most cases, and
especially in those cases where the women were taking part in the mountain
militia, the perception they have of themselves as women and their physical
awareness is extremely peculiar.
A primary effect of the war was a state of self
denial and the parallel loss of all those material goods- cosmetics, clothes-
which had formerly been used by women to enhance their femininity. During the
war, all the clothes were home made by patching together old bits of other
clothing: every choice depends on need as opposed to aesthetics. Furthermore,
survival during the "resistenza" implies the use of typically male
qualities: physical strength; agility; quickness, endurance to travelling long
and rough distances by foot or bike. Consequently women describe themselves by
highlighting the male traits in their bodies and behaviour and by demeaning
their female qualities, which are seen as signs of weakness and possible loss.
On the other hand, in situations of peril, a woman’s body becomes a useful
tool. In such cases the belly can be used to conceal weapons, revolutionary
material and food, by faking pregnancy.
Thus the picture drawn is in most cases
asexual. In some cases it goes as far as being the portrait of a male figure.
Elisa Oliva, for example, speaks of herself as a true partisan and adds to
that, that amongst the group she is not addressed as a woman, but as "one
of them"; Giovanna Zangrandi praises her own muscular tone and her
physical capacity with adjectives and verbs which portray strength, power,
endurance.
Such traits, typical of the mountain militia,
are also found in Ida D'Este's descriptions. Ida D'Este was captured for her
anti-fascist activity and imprisoned in Palazzo Giusti in Padova, where she was
tortured. She was then put in a concentration camp: Ida appeared as a tom boy,
and hated her femininity, which she was forced to face while she was being
tortured and scorned.
The portrait she draws of herself in her early
days, therefore, shows the role that a woman covered: her activity as a
conspirator and her necessity to fit in models that in not being womanly, had necessarily to be
masculine.
This portrait of herself in the past entwines
with one of herself in the present, as a writer, tying together, as is evident
through the analysis of the different devices used in the narration: its
documentative value and autobiographical weight; its being story and personal
confession.
In the foreword to the texts the author reveals
the motivation behind what is being told; here the outward and inward
representation are openly acknowledged. This statement gives the book an aura
of authenticity, and at the same time the awareness of the exceptionality of
the experience lived through reveals an individual seek of the self which
sprouts in the moment of writing. Mirelia Tamassia, for example, begins her
diary by openly stating that the story she tells is true[19]
- in her words, the only merit of the work- but, at the same time, shows signs
of an individual search which both the war and writing contribute to outline.
The diary is presented as an act of faith,
written on the spur of the moment, a few months after the Liberation and
published in 1946 as a tribute to the victory of light and belief over darkness
and scepticism and to celebrate those values which the fascist theories wanted
to erase. Writing therefore follows history's tragedy, but also takes notice of
the author's moods: moments of bitterness and anguish alternate to others of
hope and belief; the joy of working together with the other conspirators is
sided with "un’impressione oscura di sgomento". The narration of
events is therefore constantly cut by small lyrical pauses, from the thoughts
of the author who plunges into nature to forget the present and ask herself
questions which rest unanswered[20].
Similarly in Zangrandi's Giorni veri, along the
side of the reconstruction of the facts which took place in the mountains of
the Cadore during the "resistenza" is the narration of the author's
individual evolution, which outbursts in an exceptional experience which, with
almost twenty years' delay, becomes writing. Historical truth and intimate
truth are, therefore, as Zangrandi herself outwardly states[21],
bound together.
In many of the authors their role as writers is
perceived very clearly. Almost so as to explain an act which would otherwise
remain inexplicable: the urgency to narrate is in fact moved by the necessity
to leave a trace of those events that, in the passing of the years, some people
wish to forget.
Carla Capponi, for example, dedicates herself
in her old age, to writing the memoirs of her life and, in particular, of those
years that saw her starring in the Roman "resistenza", as combatant
with the degree of captain. On the other hand, the author puts in parallel, in
the dedication, the historical importance of passing on memory of those years
and the smallness of her role[22].
Going over the past in her memory, the writer
becomes aware of the entwined nature of history and individual experience,
between public and private and thinks that translating that into writing is
impossible. Only gradually, the role of the writer manages to let the one of
the militant surface, creating then the portrait which her written pages carry
on.
Thus the act of writing comes across, in all of
these works as a solitary struggle to re-read the past, an intimate journey in
which the individual experience is questioned, a search which can be heavy with
anguish and fear.
The reconstruction of past experiences which
have marked an individual life is also the attempt to give a coherent asset to
all that has been experienced, to give meaning to the present through the past,
to blend together collective and individual history.
[1] See Marina Zancan, L'esperienza, la memoria, la scrittura delle donne, in Letteratura e Resistenza, care of A. Bianchini and F. Lolli, Club, Bologna 1997, pgs 223-37; Ead., Donne tra fascismo, nazismo e resistenza, in "Storia e problemi contemporanei", XXIV (1999), pgs 115-28.
[2] Renata Viganò, L'Agnese
va a morire, Einaudi, Torino 1949. By the same author we also find short
stories about the partisans (Arriva la
cicogna, Cultura sociale, Roma 1954; Matrimonio
in brigata, Valengista, Milano, 1976) and critical essays (Donne della Resistenza, Steb, Bologna
1955) ignored by the critics.
[3] Many essays have been published on the subject. See
the bibliography published in Marina Addis Saba, Partigiane. Tutte le donne della resistenza, Mursia, Milano 1998,
pgs. 167-80.
[4] Marina Zancan, Scritture di donna: i materiali, la tradizione, l'interpretazione in "Tuttestorie", aprile 1997, p.67.
[5] Gloria Chilanti, Bandiera rossa e borsa nera. La Resistenza di un'adolescente, Mursia, Milano 1998.
[6] "Era un'agenda ricoperta da una teletta a quadretti rossi e blu, comprata da mio padre alla Cartotecnica Romana in via Frattina 125 (che non esiste più)" (p.20)
[7] Ada Gobetti Marchesini Prospero, Diario Partigiano, Einaudi, Torino 1956. Quotes come from the 1996 edition (Einaudi, Torino).
[8] Giovanna Zangrandi, I giorni veri. 1943-1945, Mondadori, Milano 1963.
[9] "Per tutto il periodo della lotta clandestina, scrissi ogni sera, su una minuscola agenda, scheletrici appunti in un inglese criptico, quasi cifrato, che mi permettono oggi non solo di ricostruire i fatti, ma anche di rivivere l'atmosfera e lo stato d'animo di quei giorni" (p.26).
[10] "Dentro uno scatolotto da maschera antigas io avevo sotterrato quaderni, appunti, promemoria cifrati, infantili, esuberanti, e letterariamente orrendi, ma che poi mi furono utili per la cronologia ecc. Salii a scavarli e recuperarli molto tempo dopo la Liberazione": unpublished letter addressed to Vittorio Sereni, dated "Borca di Cadore August 31st 62" and kept at the Mondadori Foundation in Milan.
[11] Mirelia Tamassia, L'attesa nell'ombra. (Pagine di un diario antifascista), Zanocco, Padova 1946.
[12] "Avevo preso l’abitudine di segnare in una specie di diario tutti gli avvenimenti più notevoli degli anni di guerra, quelli che mi sembravano quasi le pietre miliari del nostro aspro cammino. Distrutti i quaderni nel periodo delle persecuzioni, riuscii solo a nascondere qua e là fra le pagine di vari libri alcuni foglietti. Ne ritrovo uno ogni tanto che trascrivo tale e quale" (p. 39).
[13] "Afferrai i quaderni scaraventandoli al di là del muro. Li vidi sventagliare confusamente nella penombra [...]. Il giorno dopo ritrovai i miei quaderni, ma non mi fidai più di conservarli. Li distrussi, nascondendone solo alcune pagine qua e là in mezzo a grossi volumi" (pp. 117-8).
[14] Carla Capponi, Con cuore di donna, Il Saggiatore, Milano 2000.
[15] Ida D'Este, Croce sulla schiena (1953), Cinque Lune, Roma 1966.
[16] Elsa Oliva, Ragazza partigiana, La Nuova Italia, Firenze 1969.
[17] Lia Carli, Giovanni Carli e l'altipiano di Asiago, Zanocco, Padova 1946.
[18] Anna Chilesotti, Giacomo Chilesotti, Zanocco, Padova 1947.
[19] "Queste povere pagine non hanno che un pregio: "sono rigorosamente vere. Vita vissuta e vissuta con molte lacrime" (p. 9).
[20] "Mi chiedo se Hitler si è mai soffermato una sera a contemplare le stesse. Penso di no. Se l'avesse fatto e avesse riflettuto a quello che è veramente la nostra povera piccola terra sperduta nell'immensità avrebbe compreso come è meschino il volere di un uomo davanti alla grandezza dell'universo" (p. 27).
[21] "Ho lasciato sedimentare quelle vicende, quel tempo di proposito, per tante complesse cagioni, difficilmente riassumibili in poche parole. Certo ora io e altri riusciamo a vedere le Resistenza con più chiarezza e obbiettività, senza passioni, né odi, senza rivalse, senza timori. Oggi ritengo che si deva coraggiosamente e rigorosamente rivelare quelli che furono "i giorni veri" di quel periodo storico [...] ma anche i giorni veri dell'intimo di molti di noi" (p. 15).
[22] "Ormai vecchia e stanca, consideravo inutile raccontare di me [...]. Ogni uomo vissuto è un patrimonio di memoria che se, non fissato, permette agli altri ogni manipolazione. Le vicende vissute non mi consentivano che si potesse lasciarle all'arbitrio dei nemici di un tempo" (p.6).