Translated by Oonagh Stransky
Review by Annabel
Such is my woeful lack of knowledge of African history, I had no idea that Eritrea had been colonized by Italy in the late 1880s, transferring to British administration during WWII, before reverting to Ethiopian control until its independence in 1991. The author, Erminia Dell’Oro, is the granddaughter of one of the first Italian settlers, being born and growing up in the Italian Eritrean capital city Asmara, moving to Milan when she was twenty.
The novel begins just before the war. Sellass is twelve-years-old. Her parents are dead, and she is ready to leave her highland village and the rest of her family.
If she stayed, she would have to get married and accept a future devoid of hope.
She sets off for the long walk to Massawa, a port on the Red Sea. Walking on her own, she finds lodgings with a kind family for the night, and continues on, hitching a lift with a camel train for a while, before eventually reaching the city. Although tired and footsore, her journey is largely uneventful.
During the years when Mussolini had been intent on building a colonial empire, Massawa was a bustling city. Muslims, Jews, Indians and Greeks devoted themselves to their businesses. Teams of Eritreans laboured alongside Italians on the construction of railways, roads and buildings.
Sellass finds lodgings easily, in exchange for carrying water from the other side of the city. She is happy-go-lucky with an attractive smile, singing as she works; she is strong too, and kind. Everyone likes her. She enjoys sitting down with Mariam, a cripple, at her corner, listening to her stories. One day Mariam tells her fortune as Sellass casts a handful of shells.
‘A man will come from across the sea,’ Mariam said, ‘and you will be his woman.’
Sellass stared harder at the shells.
‘I will never serve the white people,’ she said. ‘This is our country and we must never serve them.’
‘You will be his woman,’ Mariam repeated. ‘Not his servant.’
Mariam is right, for Sellass will meet Carlo and she will become his woman.
Barely a teen, Carlo had left Perugia for New York, where he was a waiter at a trattoria for a few years, but the depression came and the restaurant went under and although he had loved his time there, Carlo returned home. The adventure bug hit him again when Mussolini promised good jobs and wellbeing for all who joined the Africa campaign, and off he went to Eritrea, making a good friend of Maurizio on the journey, whom he’d share lodgings with.
Carlo first spots Sellass on an evening promenade to the lighthouse. She is sitting watching the sea, and he is beguiled by her beauty, but that time she is unapproachable. He returns hoping to see her again … and the rest is history.
Sellass goes on to have two children by him, and he sets them up in a little house, but he doesn’t sleep there. They must remain fairly secret, for fraternizing with the natives is frowned upon by his powers that be. The announcement of Italy entering the war threatens everything. Carlo tries to persuade Sellass to take the children back to her home, giving her a string of pearls, telling her that he will stay for now, but it’s not safe for her there anymore. Carlo has an ulterior motive though, he wants to avoid conscription, he wants to leave.
Thus it is that Sellass finds herself abandoned with two small children. There is nothing for her at her home village, and she returns to Massawa, finding lodgings on one side of town and working as a housemaid for an Italian family on the other, something she’d said she’d never do.
Her daughter Marianna takes up the story of the hard life for Sellass, herself and little brother Gianfranco. They look different so are bullied at school. Marianna is strong-willed and loves to be out and about, often finding herself in conflict with her mother on this, ending up with a beating – just as Sellass’ mother did to her; the cycle of violence continues. Sellass realises this but finds it hard to release her anger in other ways. As the years go by, Marianna will thrive, however, and will always wonder about her father, and I shall say no more.
This was the first novel I’ve read set in Eritrea, and during the period of the novel it was near its economic peak. Massawa was a port of strategic significance on the Red Sea having much investment to accommodate more and larger vessels. When the Italians left or were repatriated, factories were dismantled or destroyed. And when the British handed it over to Ethiopia to administrate after the war, it fell back into the economic doldrums.
Dell’Oro brings the sense of the clash of cultures to life well in the early chapters once we meet Carlo; working well together, yet the colonial intruders are still masters. Although we cannot forgive Carlo for abandoning his family the way he did, we can have a little sympathy. He risked severe ostracization and worse if his Eritrean family became public knowledge, but to leave like that was cowardly. It destroyed Sellass who was still a young teen when they met and left her full of rage and frustration, but there was hope at the end of the novel when Marianna found a way up and out of their hard life that could give her some salvation. Dell’Oro brings both young women to life brilliantly, compassionately showing their inner strength and outer armour, while portraying their hardship with clear eyes.
Abandonment was first published in Italian in 1991, and is newly translated by Oonagh Stransky, seamlessly, and it was a pleasure to read.
Annabel is a co-founder and editor of Shiny New Books
Erminia Dell’Oro, Abandonment (Heloise Press, 2024). 978-1738459407, 256pp., paperback original.
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