Erica Gailing
Response to Ch. 1-2 of The Madonna of 115th Street
Our Lady of Mount Caramel, which is the focus of chapter 1, is a very significant figure in my family. It was so interesting to read about the history of the Italian people in Harlem when there are so many celebrations and stories I can relate it to. My mother’s mother, whose maiden name is Antonietta Barone, comes from a small town outside of Naples called Nola. Because of this, my extended family and I attend the Giglio festival each year, which is devoted to Our Lady of Mount Carmel and San Paolino di Nola. The festival described at the beginning of the chapter brought me back to all the scorching, summer days I spent in Williamsburg (which is the same festival honoring Our Lady of Mt. Carmel). At this festival, there is a picture of the Madonna and Jesus on the five-story tower with a statue on the top; over 100 men carry this monument, which also has a band playing on top of it! I could truly sense the feelings described in the first chapter; they are feelings of togetherness and festive spirits of generations of Italian-Americans attending. For summers past, I have smelled the signature sausage and peppers, heard the singing of the men carrying the tall statue, seen the sweet-looking older vendors advertising religious art or jewelry and passed colors of Italy waving on every corner. Orsi, similar to my experience, describes the “Italian tricolor (2)” hanging from the windows, the “vendors of religious articles (3),” the “haunting sounds of southern Italian religious chanting (6)” and the “fried and sugared dough, boiled corn, ice cream, watermelon, sausage (4)” that people would buy and eat on the street.
In addition to this tie to the festival discussed, the many stories of Italians trying to fit into society reminded me of my own grandmother’s. Similar to various people mentioned in chapter 2, she moved to Brooklyn at a young age, was the daughter of a small grocery store owner, and felt like an outcast among her Irish-American neighbors. Being able to relate to history is thrilling; I feel very much a part of it even though it is through brief visits and tales handed down from my grandparents.
