GoodReads Review: It Happened in Italy
It Happened in Italy: Untold Stories of How the People of Italy Defied the Horrors of the Holocaust by Elizabeth Bettina
My review
rating: 3 of 5 stars
I’m not the kind of person who can talk to just anyone. I make friends fairly easy, but in a crowded room where I don’t know anyone, I’m more likely to grab a drink, open a book, and keep to myself (which is why the idea of “networking lunches” at conferences makes me nauseous). It’s not that I don’t like people. I do. And I genuinely enjoy talking and getting to know them and making connections. I’m just not very comfortable forcing it. I’m better at it when it happens naturally — or naturally for me at least. I’m also a little sluggish on acting on some of the things I consider doing. I’m not afraid to jump in and get on with it, but I sometimes lack a little motivation on the front end. Which is what makes Elizabeth Bettina’s new work of non-fiction cum memoir, It Happened in Italy, so fascinating.
In a book that purports to tell the “Untold Stories of How the People of Italy Defied the Horrors of the Holocaust,” as its subtitle suggests, Bettina really tells us the story of how she gathered the stories, and how valuable it is to make connections. It’s as much about her as it is the Jewish people who survived World War II by being interned in concentration camps in Italy. And while at first it’s a little off-putting, even mildly-irritating, it soon becomes exhilarating and inspiring, and even refreshing in the manner in which it tells us these stories.
Imagine a story told something like this:
“Oh My God, so I look at the picture and I say to myself, ‘what’s a rabbi doing in this picture,’ and I call my friend and I tell him he has to sit down, and I’m thinking I’m just a nice Italian girl from new york who grew up in a Jewish neighborhood and then there’s the pope and the cabs and the mayor is wearing a Miss America sash and, can you believe, they went for ice cream? No one went for ice cream in Auschwitz or Dachau. And there’s a synagogue and they’re playing soccer and the Italian police shrug and we get some espresso and Oh My God, I couldn’t believe it, I’m on a plane to Nashville and the guy’s mother was in Campagna and she lives in Queens and it’s in my neighborhood and there’s an accordion player and the guy at the Vatican does a hand motion and we walk past the Swiss guards and oh my God, imagine my surprise….”
I’m over-simplifying of course, but you get the idea. Bettina’s story reads like she’s sitting across from me and we’re sharing a bottle of wine and every time she gets to a photo in her story, she just happens to have the photo with her and pulls it out of a bag to show me. It’s a conversational way to tell a story, and while nothing can truly overshadow the amazing stories of the survivors that she pulls together, the narrative device — delivering them in the voices of the survivors as she discovers them — works.
What we get is not only the inspiring stories of people who survived the horrors of the Holocaust, and the courageous stories of those who risked their lives to save others — namely Giovanni Palatucci — but we also get an inspiring story of someone who decided she was going to do something, and did it. When Bettina first came across that picture of a rabbi on the steps of the Church of San Bartolemeo in Campagna, Italy and soon learned of the thousands of Jews interned in dozens of Campo di Concentramento in Campagna and throughout Italy who survived simply as a result of being interned in these camps, she knew immediately she had to tell their story. Why? As Dachau liberator Jimmy Gentry tells her, “it is a story of goodness amidst evil. You must tell this story. If you don’t, who will?.”
So I thank Bettina for not only telling the story of Giovanni Palatucci, and the thousands of “other Palatuccis” (as the book jacket summary tells us) that sheltered and helped Jews throughout Italy. As a first generation Italian-American, it’s a proud reminder of the true nature of my descendants. I thank her also for telling her story. So many times I find myself inspired and moved, and decide that something must be done or a story must told, and I do not follow through. It Happened in Italy is a reminder of what we can accomplish when we do, and why we must.
May 26th, 2009 at 12:33 pm
Hi Joe,
I am a first time visitor to your blog but found myself interested by the title of the book you reviewed. I am also a first generation Italian-American and extremely proud of my heritage. Unfortunately, I am quite ignorant to much of the history about which you spoke. My father tells me stories about his life in Italy and how his farm was taken over by German and Italian soldiers during WWII but I never followed up with anything other than a college text book to get some generic facts about what took place. I prefer the lore and word-of-mouth recount of what happened, as I believe is the genre in which this book is written. I look forward to reading it.
May 26th, 2009 at 1:08 pm
Good post and totally agree, Joe — so many times we hesitate when a decent or even great idea crosses our minds. I believe these impulses can be divine, and we’re given the responsibility to act if we’re given the awareness. And I’m always grateful to people who feel the fear but do good anyway.