“…Unto the Ancient Mothers”
by Massimo Mandolini, PhD
“.. Who gives sight to the blind.” עורים פו קח These words from the Shakharit morning prayer have a special poignancy for me, because I was granted the experience of both wonders: eyesight and insight. Coincidentally, at some point, the same person was instrumental in helping me attain both of these, which have become forms of healing. When I was living in New York City during the 1990’s, my holistic doctor became familiar over the years with my personal and family history. One day, a mild September afternoon in Brooklyn, he invited me to look deeper into my maternal genealogy, because in all likelihood my family was Jewish. His words were not surprising and quietly settled in my mind. He remarked, in particular, that besides the name Mandolini, some traits of my mother’s spirituality had made an impression on him: for instance, the emphasis on serving the Almighty in joy, which is one of the fundamental aspects of the Hassidic way of life. Such a comment, made by a Chabad Lubavitcher, had a special, and auspicious, resonance in me. Together with the genealogical investigation (see below), I started reflecting on my past from a different angle, and resetting my memories in a new perspective. The Jewish belief that the undivided soul comes solely from one’s own mother appeared to me as an obvious truth: a new feeling of continuity through generations brought harmony into my house of remembrance. At that time, I already had some familiarity with Jewish religion and observance. My self education has been gradual ever since, in an effort to practice what I learn: a form of Torath Khayim, which naturally conforms to my upbringing. Only much later, I became aware of the historical reality of crypto Judaism and its various secret practices. Many of them (like customs of kashruth, house cleaning on Fridays, candle lighting, especially for Yahrzeit, etc) immediately sounded familiar to me; other ones (burial rites, special prayers, abstinence from leavened bread on Pesaq) were difficult to ascertain. The burning of hair clippings had always seemed a strange superstition to me: only a few years ago, still unknowing of its crypto Jewish significance, I had started to do it myself, simply out of respect for my mother’s memory. But one other ritual, usually not listed among the traditional Sephardic hallmarks, is worth mentioning,. Among Italian (and other) Jews, there is a custom of wearing around the neck a tiny silken bag, qame΄ah, containing a parchment with some augural words. I distinctly remember wearing one for a few years, from about three to six or seven years of age. I want to digress a moment, now, and refer to some other unusual practices, which, although not present in my family, were listed in Inquisition records as indicative of “vivere all’hebrea” (living a Jewish lifestyle): eating meat on Fridays and Saturdays, bathing at home (in times of less advanced personal care, even taken a bath could be singled out as strange), and slaughtering chickens by chopping off the head, rather than twisting the neck. Lastly, there is a linguistic feature. It should be noted that in Italy, a special variety of Judeo Romance developed, called giudeo italiano, Judeo Italian. The dialect had different regional colors; basically, it was an archaic form of Central Italian dialect with a few Hebrew words interspersed. Although the language is not spoken any longer, some remnants still persist in local idioms. One such relic is the verb sciattarsi (p.p. sciattato), which properly means “to be out of breath after a run”. The word comes from shekhitah, the cutting of the throat in traditional slaughtering. This childhood memory seems very significant to me now, since my mother’s speech was always a standard Italian, untainted by colloquialism and dialectal features. What follows is a summary of my matrilinear genealogy. Mandolini, my mother’s maiden name, is not apparently related to the musical instrument. In my area, mandolino means “green almond,” the name interpreted as referring to the profession of street vendors of dry fruit and nuts. A more likely etymology points to a German (Ashkenazic) origin, as the Italian equivalent of Mandel/Mendel (via Mandelein/Mandelin) , an Old High German diminutive form of Menachem (with apocope of the last two syllables and epenthesis of the dental sound). The name was very common among Jews in Northern Italy, Venice in particular, between the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. My great grandmother’s maiden name, Sargenti, is also of interest. It comes from Lat. servient(m) (servant.) The name Servi, with the same meaning, was that of one of the most ancient Jewish Italian families, claiming ascendancy from the 5,000 slaves brought to Rome by the Roman Emperor Titus in 70 C.E. Also, the recurrence in my family of feminine names that are common in Spanish should be mentioned: Nelda, my grandmother. and Elvira, my great grandmother. The earliest maternal ancestor identified in my genealogical investigation was my grandmother’s grandmother, Ascienza Ambrosini (Ambrogina ), born May 10, 1858. Her mother, Maria Gaggiotti (Gavioti) is but a name. No church records could be found, either of her birth or of her burial. I believe that she was the last one to profess the Jewish faith: her children, however, were baptized, probably under the pressure of a recrudescence of persecution by the Church. In 1826, a Jewish girl, Anna Costantini, was kidnapped, forcefully baptized, and raised as an “oblate” to the Virgin Mary. My hope to find my elusive matriarch in the local Jewish cemetery may remain a dream. In 1775, a decree of Pope Pius VI reinforced a more ancient prohibition against marking tombstones with the names of the deceased, except in the case of rabbis and prominent figures. I wish to conclude, however, on a more inspiring note. In Pesaro, a city 35 miles North of Ancona, one can find in the Jewish cemetery (Campo Vecchio Giudei) inscriptions on the graves of illustrious persons. Very few refer to women; one, however, reads as follows: Gravestone of a woman of valor Crown of her husband Brunetta ל ז Of the city of Ancona May HaShem protect her […] Called on the V day after Shabbath 23 ‘Adar II 5574 Sarah’s gates will be open for her.” Brunetta was my mother’s name. END NOTES 1 See Acta S. Officii Venetiarum ad res Judaicas stectantes, edited by Pier Cesare Ioly Zorattini, I processi del S. Uffizio di Venezia conro Ebrei e Giudaizzanti, 14 vols. Firenze, Olschski, 1980-1997). 2 Cf. the verb sagatŕ , “to cut the throat, to decapitate” in the Judeo-Venetian dialect. 3 See, in this regard, the lullaby “Raisins and Almonds,” popular among Jews of Eastern Europe. |
Society For Crypto Judaic Studies
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