19 January 2007
conquering evil (one plastic red horn at a time)

Ah, southern Italy—gorgeous pristine beaches, lush rolling hills, an omnipresent citrus smell, and a centuries-old evil curse. Come again?

I’m talking about southern Italy’s not-so-well-kept-secret, malocchio, derived from the Italian words for bad (male) and eye (occhio), known colloquially as “The Evil Eye.” Anyone who is of Italian heritage, or who has ever known someone who is, probably knows about it, although the general beliefs behind this tradition run through various cultures and religions.

Its roots are in envy, and its symptoms can include headache, excessive yawning, and a general malaise; yes, this sounds like just another day for some of us, but a trained eye, excuse the pun, can tell the difference. In its more severe forms, the afflicted can end up poor, injured, ill, or dead.

Now do I have your attention?

My first introduction to the “Evil Eye” came with the story of how my older brother was “overlooked” as a baby, which to southern Italians, is a very bad thing. It happens when someone looks at another with envy or, as in my brother’s case, someone had complimented his sparkling blue eyes without adding “God bless him” or the like.

Envy alert!

So my great-grandmother called for olive oil, water, and scissors, shooed everyone out of the room, and went to work. Some sort of prayers were overheard, but since no one else was with her, and my bisnonna isn’t around anymore, what exactly happened in there has remained a family mystery.

But another question always nagged at me: What if I had been overlooked too? My great-grandmother was already gone by the time I was born, and my grandmother didn’t do the prayers. And although I certainly can’t claim stunning blue eyes, I’ve seen baby pictures; I wasn’t a toad.

What if I had been living my whole life under an evil spell?

Fast forward twenty years to Calabria, and I would finally have the answer, because there, little to my surprise, malocchio is alive and well, despite all the plastic red chili pepper horns liberally dispersed to counteract its effects; both the color red and the figure of a horn fight off the Evil Eye.

Incidentally, if you don’t have a horn pendant or keychain, you can always make them with your hand—index and pinkie extended with thumb over the middle fingers, folded into the fist.

Do this out of view of the malocchio-er in order to avoid even more nasty looks. A sprinkling of salt around the outside of your house works too.

So, back in Calabria, one morning, P and I were enjoying the morning sun and cappuccini before a trip to the weekly farmer’s market when I suddenly felt sluggish, my head heavy and headachy—classic malocchio symptoms, P informed me through violent head nods. Lucky for me, nearby was Nato, an elderly man who knew just what to do.

Normally prone to mumbling anyway, Nato mumbled in my general direction while making the sign of the cross and kissing his fingertips repeatedly. He then informed me that it was a man far away who had given me the Evil Eye. Perhaps a whole ocean away? Interesting, and food for later thought, but my head still throbbed.

Then he said a bunch of prayers, mostly inaudible although I made out the name of Sant’Antonino, a “Hail Mary,” an “Our Father,” and a “Glory Be,” which took about three minutes in total, and poof!

Malocchio
gone, I was assured.

Maybe it was the fact that I had come inside out of the sun or that I finally had my caffeine fix, but, you know what? My headache was gone, and I was inspired to head off to market after all. What weapons these prayers were!

So, of course, I wanted to know them—what if someone was envying P too? Turns out you can only learn the process on Christmas Eve from someone who has also been taught on Christmas Eve. Lucky for me, I didn’t have to look any further than P’s Mamma, who, a few months later, just before Midnight Mass, walked me through the prayers as I mangled the local dialect.

Sorry, no photographic evidence was allowed.

The fun part was when the water, olive oil, and scissors came into play. Solving a 35-year-old family mystery, this must’ve been what my great-grandmother had done, having carried the tradition from Calabria to America.

The process is actually quite simple. Place water in a small dish and then drop olive oil slowly into it. If the olive oil disperses, the Evil Eye is, indeed, present, and you pierce the oil with the scissors while reciting the prayers.

“Die Malocchio Die!”

No, that is not an official part of any prayer, but I certainly can’t give away any centuries-old secrets here.

So now I’m armed against malocchio, especially important since it seems that I had been cursed for who knows how long. I don’t think I can remove the Evil Eye from myself (of those I’ve asked, no one is really sure of the protocol there), but luckily there’s no shortage of paesani willing to do the trick.

Who knows whether there’s any truth to the superstition, but really, at this point, who really cares?

All I know is that once a month, I smile at my neighbor Anna Maria as I sprinkle salt around my porch and steps, and I never, ever leave home without my plastic red horn keychain.

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12 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I have a plastic red horn keyring dangling from my rear view mirror! Not to ward away evil spirits (which is what the locals think) but to make me look more like one.a local, that is. ALso bouhgt at the same time a red plastic hand symbol key ring for G. He used it all the time until it broke (what do you expect from a cheap plastic keyring!). He now keeps the plastic red hand part (minus broken keychain) in his pocket!!!! BTW the anti malocchio thing here is a bit diff. WIll email you details as don't want to hog all your comment space......vanessa

Blogger sognatrice said...

I have one of those plastic hands too, also broken and awfully beat up in fact. I can't find it at the moment, though, which is only slightly disturbing.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

i tried to buy some new hands, but can't find them anywhere. Must be pretty popular....if i find some again i'll be sure to get you a new one. Got the last ones at Tindari (sanctuary for balck madonna). vanessa

Blogger Cynthia Rae said...

Is this what causes red eye in our photos?

I am always amazed at how superstitious the Italians are. My well educated husband is always convinced that something bad has happened simply because the day is Friday. I'm not talking Friday the 13th, I'm talking ANY Friday!

Facciamo le corna! hehehehehe!
Cyn

Blogger Christine said...

My good god, when I was 8 my family and I went to Italy where my little brother (almost 2 at the time) came down with the curse of the evil eye. The ceremony was the same, only the woman also draped my brother's head in red cloth (which happened to be a pair of my mother's clean underwear for lack of appropriate red clothing) then performed with the bowl of water perched on his head, and prayer recitation. I don't think scissors were involved.

I am jealous that you have the necessary prayers. If you happen to be in the Philadelphia area next Christmas Eve perhaps you can train me in the art.

Blogger The Other Girl said...

I'm only a little superstitious, but I have been known to do a similar thing that involves throwing soybeans around the edges of my property and repeating in Japanese a command for the devils to go away and the good luck to come in. I don't know about good luck, but after performing the ritual we do end up with a frighteningly Hitchcockian number of birds in the yard.

Blogger Shan said...

I am relieved to know you are so well protected. Thanks for sharing this I would have never known.

Although Maya's Italian Godmother always says God Bless him/her in conjunction with compliments.

Blogger Sharon said...

There was a lady on my street who was thought to be giving the *evil eye* when she passed by. She always sat alone outside her home while all the other ladies sat in groups. I would see those hands curling into position when she passed. How could one old lady posses such power? When she died I decided to take her position. I shall make those ladies wonder what I was thinking and have to take extra care when around me. I don't yet have this power but what do they know? (My husband thinks I am serious!) I did really like this old lady who really did not care what anyone thought of her including me.
I live 5 minutes car drive from Tindari...where you can buy lots of red symbols!

Blogger Karla said...

The devil's horn hand sign is also the University of Texas Hook 'Em Horns sign...this causes endless confusion when, say, the US president flashes the Hook 'Em sign to someone, then a phtographer catches itand then Europeans go all aflutter and say that he is flashing the devil's horns....

this makes me laugh. On many levels. Especially as I do believe we should all be flashing the devil's horns at HIM, but this is immaterial to my point at the moment.

ahem...but i am superstitious in my own way too. I have a Turkish evil eye repeller, and will NOT EVER open an umbrella inside...

Blogger Gina said...

Oh my God, yes! The "Overlooks!" That's exactly what my grandmother used to say!

And the thing about the pregnant woman's cravings needing to be honored. I totally grew up with that too!

Oh man, I can SO relate to your blog posts! You rock!

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Can you tell me what the prayers are?
My mother absolutely believes in it and wants to teach us but doesn't have english translation prayers.
By the way the scissor bit is interesting in my parent's Calabrian village they didn't have them in the "mix".

Blogger sognatrice said...

Anonymous, send me an email at bleedingespresso (dot) sognatrice (at) gmail (dot) com and we'll talk ;)

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