IN TIMES OF GREAT FLOOD…

Most of these experiences are those of six generations of Sicilians; starting with “full-blooded” Sicilian folk such as my father’s father (Antonio Piraino), and my mother’s father (Leonardo Marino), and carrying onward to my own progeny of “lesser” Sicilian blood.

Their time line covers over one hundred and fifty years, from mid-1850 to the present. Each of the generations felt the destructive influence of one (or more) wars.

Wars and their abysmal societal effects are used to tie this narrative together. Anthony is one of the three sons of Mariano Peranio (Piraino, originally) and Anna Marino. Both of his parents are descended from Sicilian stock. His mother, Anna, died recently at age ninety nine, in Brooklyn , New York City.

Born and raised in New York City’s “New World”, the author has always been much aware of the fact that he is a descendent of people from the Island of Sicily; a man with “Sicilian blood” running through his veins, and one heavily influenced by the Sicilian culture of his progenitors.

What you will read is believed to be quite unique. It is the “stuff of life” that has come out of Sicily and has gone further, fusing with a variety of other cultural groups.

Whatever else the reader thinks and feels about his narrative, it is the author’s fervent wish that the “stories” are found interesting and fascinating. Most of this book’s contents are the truth as it was experienced; some report the experiences of others. A few of the stories are figments of a Sicilian/US American’s imagination.

You will be able to distinguish “truth from fiction” according to context.

Before getting to the body of stories, here is an ancient proverb in an Italian dialect; the basis for the book’s title: “En tempo d’deluvio, tutte strunzi nattano!”

“In times of great flood, all turds float!”

[turd : 1. a piece of excrement. 2. a mean contemptible person, before year 1000 from Middle and Old English.]

I propose using this Sicilian gem of worldly wisdom instead of the insipid and limited proverb bandied about these days:

“A rising tide floats all ships!”

This Anglo-Saxon proverb leaves out the malevolent aspect of excessive water surges and in fact leaves us—the submerged ones—with the hope that if we wait for a personal “rising tide”, our floundered and drowned ship too will once again float. Throughout our Earth’s history, this happy outcome has been denied to the majority of humankind, notwithstanding occasional rising tides.

Strunzi were conceptually defined for me and my brothers by our uneducated immigrant Sicilian father. During my adolescence, a technical high school education in New York City was taking effect, and my brain was able to discern most of the literal and figurative turds round-about.

Father did an amazing job enriching us with reality embedded in parables, fables and stories of his youth in Sicily and mature years in the USA . The floating miscreants and their behavior moved deeply into our memories.

Strunzi! Often was uttered in despair and disdain in many New York City , 20th century, broken down tenement apartments, in which we lived.

Anthony Peranio

Hendersonville, North Carolina

September 2008