Language as “Resident Alien”

in Justin Vitiello’s Texts


 

“After all is said and undone, I doubt I’ve been a native speaker” (Confessions 8). Vitiello’s caustic and involving work is a unique specimen of the contemporary meditation on the relation­ship among nationality, linguistic expression, and identity.

Vitiello, being an Italian American who writes fluently both in English and Italian, belongs to a literary tradition that goes back to the Medieval and Renaissance questione della lingua. Italian culture has always underscored the crucial connection between “saying” and “being.” However, questioning this very connection has invariably entailed a “crisis” of these two elements, one’s self and one’s language. Two direct consequences are inevitable. The sub­ject considering him/herself an “outsider” acquires both a literary “style” and a life’s “style” that reflect the self’s uprootedness.

From a literary standpoint, irony is the primary rhetorical device of such a “style.” Like Mark Twain or Carlo Emilio Gadda, Vitiello knows that his writing/speaking cannot help but result in an “incarnation” and thus in a “mis-incarnation.” Through irony he manages to distance himself from himself: “I never swam in the English mainstream anyhow. Where I grew up, we said scrog for dog, scomp out for put down, wop for wallop . . . Piss-sàke instead of Passaic” (Confessions 7). Vitiello makes his two idioms, English and Italian, clash with humorous results: “Like I said, Pep’hated everything about the Old Country. Except four letter words—which actually, excluding fica and culo, have five or more. His favorite was porca maronna—which in my Newark days got shortened to maroan. However you cut the host, you’re calling the Holy Mother of God a hog” (Confessions 53).

In Vitiello’s texts the Italian culture/language is a set of family memories, the typical Italian/American heritage, and personal, direct experiences. We may go so far as to say that Vitiello is both an Italian American, an Italian, and an American who observes the signs of his “Italianity” written in/on his body. Let us read three excerpts from Subway Home and Vanzetti’s Fish Cart (published in Italian in 1989 with the title Il carro del pesce di Van­zetti). In Subway Home Vitiello includes a text that is a notary document: “This indenture made the thirtieth day of December, nineteen hundred and twenty-five, between Alfonso Vitiello, party of the first part, of 822 Eagle Avenue . . . and Marie Vitiello, his wife, party of the second part . . . witnesseth that the party of the first part . . . assigns forever all undivided right, title and interest in and to all those certain lots . . . to have and to hold the above granted premises unto the party of the second part and her heirs” (10). Vitiello makes us perceive the melancholic poetry present in a bureaucratic statement. In “Forever,” the story of an entire Italian/American family is nar­rated implicitedly. In a passage from Vanzetti’s Fish Cart Vitiello recounts his stay in Italy and his encounter with a Sicilian: “‘ma, professore, favorite’ ‘prego, prego, grazie, buon appetito’: A Sicilian is offering me the last feast of his honeymoon and his bride’s so bold-eyed I guess she’s a northener” (47). Vitiello is a professore; his title/status erases any possible reference to his non Italianity. Still in Italy, in another page of Vanzetti Vitiello is addressed by a metal-worker: “‘really, you’re thirty-six? you look so much younger’ (the wrinkles are in my guts, us children of Southern Italians learn to swallow our pride and rage)” (46). Vitiello’s fine texts make us aware of the fact that the subject’s identity and lan­guage are the outcome of a compromise, of an implicit betrayal of the uncharted and unchartable territory of the self.

 

Armando Maggi

University of Pennsylvania

 

 

Works Cited

Vitiello, Justin. Confessions of a Joe Rock. Franklin Lakes, NY: Lin­coln Springs P, 1992.

___. Subway Home. Franklin Lakes, NY: Lincoln Springs P, 1994.

___. Vanzetti’s Fish Cart. Lewiston, NY: Mellen Poetry P, 1991.