Sibilla Aleramo
A Woman
$21.95, paperback
9780520049499
Available Now
220 pages, 5-1/2 x 8-1/4 inches,
October 1980, Only available in Include Philippines, United States, Canada
Also in: Fiction
October 1980, Only available in Include Philippines, United States, Canada
Also in: Fiction
For a book that sent shock waves through the European literary establishment and, since its original publication in 1906 has gone through seven editions along with highly cclaimed translations into all th principal languages of Europe, A Woman (Una Donna) by Sibilla Aleramo (1876-1960) has remained curiously obscure in America. Aleramo's lightly fictionalized memoir presented a kaleidoscopic series of Italian images—the frenetic industrialism of the North, the miserable squalor of the country's backward areas to the South, fin de siècle Italian politics and literary life—all set in the framework of a drama admiringly characterized by Luigi Pirandellow as "grim and powerful." For some other Italians, A woman touched ar aw nerve, and many critics reacted to Aleramo with extreme hostility. However, whether one liked Aleramo's novel or not, the book was an iceberg in the mainstream of Italian literary life, impossible to get around without careful inspection. --From the introduction
"Absolutely extraordinary. Originally published in 1906 in Europe, it has been called 'the book of Genesis in the bible of feminism.' Here is an autobiographical account of a woman caught in a web of conflict, among her father, mother, husband, and young son. Her struggle for existential freedom is compelling and awesomely contemporary."—Los Angeles Times
"This novel shocked first Italy, then all Europe with its powerful feminist statement. Brilliantly written, intensely felt, the novel is, of course, the scantily disguised autobiography of Rina Pierangeli Faccio. Raped and otherwise brutalized at 15 by the man she was forced to marry, Rina seemed destined for the abyss into which all--or nearly all--Italian women plunged soon after puberty. But Rina escaped, at terrible cost, and she shared her story. Today's women, in Italy and elsewhere, should take note of this pioneering work."—Virginia Quarterly Review
"Still a powerful and unsettling account of an extraordinary young woman coming of age. . . . The power of this novel lies in Sibilla Aleramo's rendering of her character's slow but inexorable growth to real adulthood. It is the insight and perception she brings to these events that make them significant and unforgettable. . . . it is a story, finally, of self-discovery. This book is fascinating in its dissection of a marriage and in her translation of the nuances of domestic life. . . . It is a sad novel, utterly authentic, controlled and sustained. It is a strange and mesmerizing classic." —Los Angeles Herald-Examiner
"This novel shocked first Italy, then all Europe with its powerful feminist statement. Brilliantly written, intensely felt, the novel is, of course, the scantily disguised autobiography of Rina Pierangeli Faccio. Raped and otherwise brutalized at 15 by the man she was forced to marry, Rina seemed destined for the abyss into which all--or nearly all--Italian women plunged soon after puberty. But Rina escaped, at terrible cost, and she shared her story. Today's women, in Italy and elsewhere, should take note of this pioneering work."—Virginia Quarterly Review
"Still a powerful and unsettling account of an extraordinary young woman coming of age. . . . The power of this novel lies in Sibilla Aleramo's rendering of her character's slow but inexorable growth to real adulthood. It is the insight and perception she brings to these events that make them significant and unforgettable. . . . it is a story, finally, of self-discovery. This book is fascinating in its dissection of a marriage and in her translation of the nuances of domestic life. . . . It is a sad novel, utterly authentic, controlled and sustained. It is a strange and mesmerizing classic." —Los Angeles Herald-Examiner
FROM THE BOOK:
Did this man own me?
I have only a vague and depressed memory of my indescribable confusion in the days that followed, but I know that gradually I came to believe that he did.
My life, already shaken by my father's desertion,was now suddenly turned upside down, tragically altered. What had I become? What would happen to me? My childhood was certainly at an end.
I had taken such pride in being independent and thinking for myself that I now suffered agonies; but this same pride prevented me from indulging in tears. . . .
Never for one moment did I imagine that I might be the victim of a cold-blooded strategy.
Did this man own me?
I have only a vague and depressed memory of my indescribable confusion in the days that followed, but I know that gradually I came to believe that he did.
My life, already shaken by my father's desertion,was now suddenly turned upside down, tragically altered. What had I become? What would happen to me? My childhood was certainly at an end.
I had taken such pride in being independent and thinking for myself that I now suffered agonies; but this same pride prevented me from indulging in tears. . . .
Never for one moment did I imagine that I might be the victim of a cold-blooded strategy.
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