Norman Invasions (25 page)

Mr. Silone loved his child, deeply. That is why he blinded it, holding a lighted candle to its eyes.

If a benign rationalization were possible for such an atrocity, inflicted on a helpless infant, one supposes one might have argued a zealous father's sincere, but misguided desire to protect a child from the evils of the world, to preserve him from most of its moral contaminations, from its frequent offensiveness to a delicate purity of spirit. That was the tack taken by Mr. Silone's attorney, hoping for understanding and sympathy on the part of the court, and a mitigated sentence. This defense, however, was belied by Mr. Silone himself, who not only refused to accept it, but took pains to deny it, categorically. In passing, it might be mentioned, as well, that a defense on the grounds of insanity, temporary or otherwise, whatever might serve, despite what would have been its obvious tactical, judicial utility, was not proposed. Mr. Silone would have none of it. He was coldly, even unpleasantly, sane. This was his view, that of the court, and that of the court psychiatrist. To be sure, he did have certain unusual beliefs. His cognitive field, so to speak, to have recourse to a technical term, was different from that of many in the court, though not from that of all. We, of course, tend to dismiss as aberrational, or as insane, cognitive fields which differ from our own, but, interestingly, we are customarily disinclined to accord this liberty to others, should our own cognitive fields be put in question.

Mr. Silone's explanation of his deed, which had been done with forethought, and executed with all due, terrifying deliberation, was that the child was
jettatore
. Mr. Silone was found guilty, and was led from the courtroom. He had to be led because he himself was blind as he had, shortly after blinding the child, gone into the kitchen, taken up a butcher knife and gouged out his own eyes. You see, he believed himself, as well, to be
jettatore
. The curse was a lingering one, it seemed, and flowed with dark blood. Not everyone in his line, of course, was afflicted. To borrow a metaphor from biology, however inappropriate it may be in this context, one might say that the trait was recessive, or recessivelike. Mr. Silone believed himself, as we have seen, to have the trait, and he saw it, or thought he saw it, in his child. In his way, he was trying to save the child, and, I suppose, in a similar way, to save, or redeem, himself.

Mr. Silone went to prison, but did not survive his sentence. Shortly after his incarceration several cases of cholera had broken out in the prison. This sort of thing, with one disease or another, was not unprecedented in that place, a hole famed at the time for the laxity of its sanitary precautions. It was during the second week of the epidemic that Mr. Silone was found dead, his neck broken, apparently by a fall from the roof of one of the prison buildings. It seems he had somehow found his way to the roof, though for what reason none knew. He had then fallen or, perhaps, it is a possibility, had thrown himself from its height to the stones below. An alternative hypothesis, whispered about, was that he had been taken to the roof by other inmates of the place and cast from it. It is known that some had ventured to explain the outbreak of the cholera within those dank, forbidding walls by the presence amongst them of a
jettatore
. Even if one were to credit the existence of such a thing as a
jettatore
, it seems that any powers which Mr. Silone, or anyone like him, might have possessed would have been rendered harmless by his self-mutilation. Whether or not this argument would have carried weight with ignorant, panic-stricken felons, of course, is not clear. In any event, however it occurred, Mr. Silone was found one afternoon in the prison yard, at the base of a wall, dead, his neck broken.

Cursed be he that smiteth his neighbour secretly.

And all the people shall say, Amen.

Deuteronomy, xxvii, 24.

Some see in the above quotation from the Bible, here given in the translation of the Authorized King James Version, a reference to the
jettatore
. The matter, however, is obscure. One might suppose that the curse is rather leveled at some naturalistic malefaction, for example, ambush, or, more likely, and more subtly, secret vilification, defamation of character, calumny, slander, or such. On the other hand, given the primitive nature of the times, possibly relevant data from cultural anthropology, Biblical research, the higher criticism, and such, it seems plausible to suppose that the curse is leveled against those who might perpetrate evil by arcane means, and here one thinks of incantations, spells, sorcery, diabolic confederacy, and other unsavory possibilities. And it would be somewhere within this range that one might expect to lie the powers of the
jettatore
, particularly if they were intentionally, malevolently exercised. Admittedly, however, as indicated, the scope of the curse is not clear. It need not, I suppose, even be interpreted as referring to preternatural phenomena, and, if it does, at least including them, which seems likely, it certainly need not be understood as referring, even implicitly, to the
jettatore
. It is not clear that the author of the verse was acquainted with the concept of the
jettatore
. He may or may not have been. In short, the devout, given the brevity, and consequent obscurity, of the verse in question, are not obliged on religious grounds to accept the existence of the
jettatore
. Its existence or nonexistence is an independent question. It is my surmise, however, that the author of the verse would, in fact, have been cognizant of the concept, that of the
jettatore
, and, if a man of his time, would have feared, or respected, or, at least, been wary of one whom he supposed possessed the powers in question. This surmise is based on the fact that the concept of the
jettatore
is far more ancient than the Biblical text under consideration. It is pervasive in a diversity of human cultures, these scattered throughout the world. It is almost certain that it predates the working of metals and the founding of cities in the great river valleys. It is probable that it was familiar to the tall, skin-clad, spear-bearing hunters of elk and mammoth.

There is no doubt that the power of the
jettatore
could be exercised with malevolent intent. On the other hand, it is equally clear that, in many cases, the power is regarded by its possessor as a curse in itself. It can cause evil, or ill luck, or misfortune, or illness, or accident, or death, inadvertently. It is something which can spring alive within the possessor, against his will, to his horror, without warning, and produce its deleterious, cruel effects. Its carrier, like the carrier of a virulent, lethal disease, may be the most innocent of all creatures. Often its possessor may be the epitome of honesty, decency and humane virtue; he may be the sweetest, kindest, most benevolently intentioned individual in the world and yet, about himself, to his own dismay and misery, create fear, havoc and injury. This appears to have been the case with Mr. Silone.

Let us suppose, for the simple purposes of speculation, that there might exist a
jettatore
. Let us suppose such a thing were possible. Since its powers seem often exercised despite the best will of, and against the best will of, the subject in question, that suggests that personal malevolence, recourse to magic, alliances with demonic forces, and such, are not likely to be involved. This might seem to open the possibility of some sort of demonic possession, or such, but neither those who find themselves afflicted by, or cursed with, the powers of the
jettatore
, nor those who might accept, acclaim and zealously exercise such powers with malevolent intent, seem to manifest the customary syndrome commonly associated with demonic possession, by clergy, or alleged demonic possession, by secular physicians. This would seem, for most practical purposes, to rule out a preternatural cause, at least as commonly understood. This is not to deny the possibility of something ill understood, and possibly subconscious. In passing, one might note that the
jettatore
is not localized to any particular ethnic, cultural or religious orientation. The devils of the Mediterranean are not those of Tibet. The devils of the Zulu are not those of the Eskimo.

My own hypothesis, were I to give credence to the myths of the
jettatore
, would be that there is a life form, or, perhaps better, a life force, which can infect, or inhabit certain forms of mammalian life, utilizing them, in effect, as a host, customarily humans, but, in some cases, it seems, other mammalian forms, most commonly, dogs. This is surprising, incidentally, from a sociological or anthropological point of view, for one would expect society to impose its prepossessions and terrors on, of all possible animals, the common cat, regarding it as the most likely host of the
jettatore
. Historically, our relationship to the domestic cat has been one of ambivalence. It was said, in the Middle Ages, that in the eyes of cats one could see the fires of hell. The cat is the usual familiar of the witch, and so on. Millions were destroyed, ceremoniously burned and hung. This is ironic, as well as tragic, for cats would have been useful in reducing the population of black rats, who carried fleas in their fur, which carried in their blood, and transmitted in their bite, the virus of the Black Death. In any event, the animal host of the
jettatore
, when the host is an animal, is commonly a dog. It is almost as though the form, or force, knew the favored position of dogs in society, how they were cared for, prized, and loved. Too, of course, dogs need have little fear of larger, dangerous animals, as cats, for example, must fear dogs, compared to them larger, more dangerous, animals. The dog, then, would be a safer, more secure host. Also, of course, statistically, dogs tend to live in a more intimate relationship with humans than do cats, who prefer, it seems, to care for their own affairs and live their own lives. In such a way, one supposes a form, or force, might with greater ease change its tenancies, should it be so inclined, from one host to another.

But there is, of course, no such thing as the
jettatore
.

There is the argument of
consensus gentium
for its existence, but the argument, interesting as it may be, is inconclusive. Briefly, the argument is from a supposed universal, or nigh universal, consensus, to the conclusion that the object of the consensus, say, the relevant proposition or belief, must be true, given that it is so widely believed. A simple form of the argument might be: Everybody believes it, so it must be so. Construed mistakenly as a deductive argument, it is obviously possible, at least logically possible, which is what matters here, for the premise-set to be true and the conclusion false; and this, of course, shows that the argument is invalid. Construed however as an inductive argument, which it surely is, though this seems to have has been little noticed by logicians, it becomes a much more interesting argument. Inductive arguments are not divided into those which are valid and those which are invalid. All inductive arguments are invalid; if one could be valid, it would discover itself, perhaps to its own embarrassment, not an inductive argument at all, but a deductive one, having met the criterion for deductive validity, namely, that it would be logically impossible for its premise-set to be true and its conclusion false. Inductive arguments may be divided into those which are good and those which are not, or, perhaps better, into those which are legitimately convincing, or persuasive, and those which are not. For example, one might regard an argument to the effect that everyone, or almost everyone, believes that food is necessary to sustain life is a good reason for supposing that that is true. To be sure, the belief does not make it true, but presumably the universality, or near universality, of the belief is best explained by the fact that it is true, that there do not seem to be counterinstances, and so on. Similarly universal, or near universal, beliefs that crocodiles and tigers are dangerous does not logically imply that these forms of life are dangerous, but the universality, or near universality, of the belief gives us good inductive reason to be circumspect in our relationships, should we choose to have them, with such creatures. If everyone believes something, or if a belief is sufficiently widely spread, it seems likely that it will be true. It may not be true, of course, but the fact that it is so generally believed is, all things being equal, a point in its favor. To be sure, generality of belief is no substitute for reason, logic, evidence, research, observation, experimentation, investigation, and such. Belief,
per se
, seldom makes things true, but, on the whole, things which are true are more likely to be believed than things which are false. We tend to learn from others; the human race tends get on as a whole. On the other hand, of course, there have been instances where the
consensus-gentium
argument, good as it often is, has misled its practitioners. For example, the fact that all people, or most people, once believed that the earth was flat, and stationary and the center of the universe was ignored by the universe. The argument in question, despite its impressive track record, did not win that one.

Belief in the evil eye, the capacity of an individual to injure, or even kill, with so little as a glance, has, historically, been one of the most ubiquitous superstitions afflicting the human race. It is a belief which, dreadful though it may be, is common, familiar, and pervasive. It seems almost ineradicable. It emerges sometimes in surprising environments. It has been entertained in a wide diversity of cultures and accepted by diverse races and peoples. It has characterized a variety of divergent eras. It is one of the dark threads woven into the fabric of human history. And, I fear, it is still with us.

Although the account I would give here is trivial and local, dealing with only a handful of people, none of whom you are likely to know, I think it would not be remiss for me to set this matter into a larger context, briefly, however inadequately. It seems, unfortunately, that what occurred, although unusual, was not unprecedented. My subsequent research has led me to believe that the events of which I would here give an account are, unhappily, in no way unique.