“To an Old File (Author Unknown)

Preface

This document delves into the fascinating world of Italian folk traditions, specifically focusing on the ancient practice of detecting and removing the evil eye, as recounted by an elderly woman named Maria. Despite her advanced age and fading memory, Maria offers a rare glimpse into a realm of rituals and beliefs that once held a significant place in the lives of many Italians, particularly in rural communities. Through her words, we gain insight into the customs, prayers, and mysterious practices that were passed down through generations, often cloaked in secrecy and superstition. This account not only preserves a piece of cultural heritage but also invites reflection on the enduring power of belief and the ways in which ancient traditions continue to shape modern identities.

Mrs. Maria is eighty years old, and her mind no longer works as it once did: she confuses the living with the dead, the past with the present, and waits for people who never arrive. I had heard for a while that Mrs. Maria could remove the evil eye and do other similar things, but given her condition, I had never decided to speak with her. Some time ago, I did, and this ‘interview’ is the result of our conversation.

Maria speaks in the Neapolitan dialect, and I must admit that I had to make an effort to understand and translate the terms and phrases correctly. However, I tried to be faithful to the ‘original,’ which is why the syntax might not seem entirely correct in some cases.

-Maria, you know how to see the evil eye.
-I used to know how to see the evil eye and remove it too. But now, I can’t do it anymore because I’m old, and I used to do these things a long time ago.

-How did you see the evil eye?
-I saw it in the water drawn from the well, but the water had to be clean, without any dirt, and with oil.

-How did you do it?
-I would put oil in the water that was in a glass or a plate, but the water had to be clean (Maria insisted a lot that the water had to be clean, editor’s note). Then I would put the oil in; if the oil didn’t move, there was no evil eye, but if it moved, there was. But some people who knew how to do many things, like my mother-in-law, could see it just in the water.

-How did they do it?
-You know, usually, when you pour water strongly into a container, the water swirls; my mother-in-law would pour it, and the water would stay still. Who knows how she did it!

-What did she pour the water into?
-I don’t know, into something. I don’t remember.

-A bucket?
-Yeah, something like that. But it stayed perfectly still! And that’s how you knew there was an evil eye. Who knows how she did it!

-What is the evil eye?
-The evil eye is something bad, like when someone wishes you harm. You can tell when someone casts the evil eye on you.

-How can you tell?
-When you don’t cast the evil eye, your eyes are the same, but when you do, your eyes look strange, different. Like if you and someone else are having a conversation, and they look at you weirdly, with strange eyes, they’re casting the evil eye on you. It’s something that someone trained can see, but someone who isn’t trained won’t notice anything.

-What effects does the evil eye have?
-Well, you act strange, it hurts. For example, when you’re reasoning with someone in the family or with a friend, suddenly you act strange, throw things, and get angry. Or you feel unwell or earn little money if you’re working. Like my father-in-law used to make ‘subrette’ (a particular type of homemade granita, editor’s note) and always earned a good amount of money. Then, for a while, he was earning less and less, almost nothing, so my mother-in-law said he had the evil eye and removed it.

-How do you remove the evil eye?
-Well, I don’t remember; it’s been a long time since I did it, but you used to say certain church things and prayers to the saints.

-Which saints did you pray to?
-Saint Augustine, and then the Holy Spirit, and I would say the church things, but I don’t remember the words anymore because I’m old.

-Who taught you these things?
-My mother-in-law, and then there were my aunts, who also knew how to do a hundred things, but now no one knows how to do these things anymore.

-You have eight children; didn’t you teach any of them?
-No, they were studying, and then none of them wanted to learn, and I used to do these things in my spare time; I wasn’t as good as them! (the mother-in-law and the aunts, editor’s note).

-What else did your mother-in-law and aunts know how to do?
-Oh, a lot of things! The ‘stoppata’ (a common practice among farmers in Campania known as ‘a stuppat,’ used to heal sprains), which they did with egg whites; then they would remove the evil eye, curses, and other things that I don’t remember. My aunts would put certain ‘little things’ on the table when they did these things; I saw it many times!

-What little things?
-Oh, certain things, I don’t remember, I was small! When they put these little things on the table, other people could be there, but there shouldn’t be bad people or people who didn’t believe in it because they would mock, and that wasn’t good. But one of these aunts was good; she knew how to do a lot of things! Many people would come to her. But then she stopped because she was sick.

-You mentioned curses, what are they?
-Curses aren’t like the evil eye; they’re big things! They make Christians (in Neapolitan dialect, ‘Christians’ refers to all people, editor’s note) feel sick, but I’ve never seen them done.

-What are curses used for?
-Oh, to hurt people. People feel tired and have pain in their bones or head. Or some people used to do certain curses to steal money: they would curse you, come to your house, and take your money without you noticing.

-How are curses removed?
-I don’t remember, and few people did it, not everyone.

-Did your aunt know how to remove them?
-Yes, even my aunt, that’s why she felt sick. Before, she would remove a lot of them, but then she felt sick because she was taking too much on her shoulders, so she stopped, but that other one was better.

-Did many people know how to do these things before?
-Yes, quite a few. But now no one knows how to do it anymore because now there’s television, and young people don’t learn anymore.

The conversation with Maria broadly explains the concept of the evil eye in Campania, and I dare say the concept of the evil eye that many Italian peasant women had. These people (despite eminent scholars who have elaborated very complicated theories about energetic dynamics and auras) explained the evil eye with a direct and convincing simplicity: something spontaneous, often done unintentionally, which according to tradition, emanates from the eyes.

The eyes are certainly the most expressive part of our body, the one that ‘communicates’ the most; it seems reasonable, therefore, that these people saw in the eyes the vehicle through which ‘negative energies,’ as we would call them today, are transmitted from one person to another.

The ritual of water and oil can be found in various Italian regions, from Calabria to Sardinia, with only slight differences. Here, it talks about the ‘eye’ being detected by the movements of the oil, while others talk about the division of oil spots on the surface of the water. The method of just using water, however, I had never encountered before, and it left me surprised and incredulous, with the suspicion that those who practiced it might not have been reading the water in the bucket in that way and did not want to reveal more about their practice.

Prayers to saints are often a constant in warding off the evil eye and are proof of the overlapping of Christianity on ancient pagan practices. I was unable to understand why Saint Augustine, the patron saint of theologians, theophiles, and usually invoked against laziness, was involved in such a ritual.

I asked Maria several times for the words of the evil eye ritual, but she always said she couldn’t remember them. I was very fascinated by the story of the ‘little things’ of the aunts. I asked Maria several times what these little things were, but it seems that she either doesn’t remember or doesn’t want to talk about them. From what I understood, they were real tools of the trade that these aunts would bring out and use when people came to them. I imagine little plates and pictures of saints, but I can’t make any assumptions.

Maria also says that one of these aunts felt sick when removing curses. I read some time ago about a peasant woman from Emilia who used constant prayers and fasting as a remedy for curses, and because of this, she often felt sick. Maria’s aunt might have used a similar method to remove curses, which would explain her illnesses.

People often think of women who knew how to do ‘certain things’ with feelings of nostalgia for times long gone. It’s not so. Maria herself is a living testimony of how widespread certain practices were in the Italian countryside, and the research is not impossible: it just takes a good dose of boldness and a little initiative. Italian tradition is still warm under the ashes, and these ashes are not such an impenetrable layer after all.

The lady I dealt with used a normal white ceramic plate, which she kept in a cupboard where there was also a little bottle of oil, candles, and a “spagnoletta” of black thread (there were also other things that didn’t stay in my memory). When she did the work, the room was dark, but I don’t remember if it was because it was night or if the windows were covered. I was six years old at the time.

Since I was a “city” child, I didn’t understand a word of the dialect. So, I never learned the “words”; I only remember that they started with “occhiu, malocchiu, petrusinu e finocchiu.”

When I was ten, I still had the “third eye,” but I don’t know if it was because she was untrained or what, but it worked, even if it was temporary and perhaps by suggestion. She always got paid, at least from adults; however, the evil eye was such a real thing that there was no need for these “antics.” I remember my mother’s fear of the evil eye and curses and the superstition of certain acts like putting garlic in my pocket or a rabbit’s paw or going into a trance during mass.

When we moved away, my mother took me to a church where, among other things, they dealt with the evil eye. But not everything was effective: for example, I had to endure “purges” which were administered by a parish priest who would place the hands of God on me to “cleanse me from the evil eye.”