1963 Onwards.
During the holiday Ann decided that she must terminate her contract with Gianna and the SCF although this time there was no question of returning to live in the USA. Being away from Italy probably gave her some perspective and she was able to discuss the matter with her parents who, if they couldn’t have their daughter at home, would prefer that she was living an agreeable life in Rome rather than suffering the privations of life in a southern Italian town. Back in Italy, Nina certainly knew of this decision and was busy lining up some money making opportunities.
During her time in America Ann began to firm up her ideas for the book she intended writing. This was eventually published in 1969 as ‘Torregreca’ and was to have an important impact on her relationship with Gianna. She would not return to the material she began in 1958 which was about Abruzzo - this time she would write about life in Tricarico and an important part would be the life story of a Lucanian peasant. Ann hoped to persuade Signora Armento to talk about her life and experiences and record the results on a tape recorder. She discussed this with her father who advised her to consult a lawyer when she got back to Rome: not only did she need to ensure that her terms of employment with the SCF did not prevent her from publishing her experiences but she should get Armento to sign a disclaimer to avoid copyright problems when the book was published.
Ann arrived back in Italy on about 20th January. It was not until a week later that she told Gianna of her decision to quit. She had dinner with Gianna and Jim in Rome and announced that she would like to leave by the first April. In a letter to her parents of 29th January she records that Gianna replied “Oh really, don’t you want to keep on even with Tricarico.......well, we’ll talk about it some time.” According to Ann, Gianna then changed the subject and it was never referred to again for the rest of the evening.
Ann’s account remains uncorroborated but it suggests another example of Gianna’s insensitivity. Alternatively Gianna might simply have misread the situation believing that this was just another resignation threat like all the others that had preceded it and that it would blow over in time. Ann, however, felt insulted and thought Gianna graceless. She returned home that night to find Nina and Renee, a friend, who, after being told the story replied: “Oh Ann, don’t bother to be upset, they’re both frightfully undistinguished people”. Ann wrote to her parents that she was amused by this reaction (29/1)
During the previous two years a class divide had developed between Gianna and Ann. Living in Rome Ann had begun to move in a different social circle from that which Gianna knew. Gianna’s connections in the city largely comprised people associated with ‘The Work’: ambassadors, politicians and administrators. Ann’s set was younger, more glamorous and frequently associated with the arts. With her Chicago social connections she also became part of a wealthy expatriate group. By contrast, Gianna seemed dowdy and provincial. Also, she had brought an uninvited stranger into their midst, Jim. Many of Ann’s friends were female and they followed Ann’s lead in regarding him as dull and uninteresting. By the middle of February Gianna and Jim were actively being shunned by Ann’s acquaintances in Rome: excuses were made for refusing their dinner invitations and social events were deliberately organised for times when they would not be in Rome. (16/2) and (22/2). Ann was not only complicit but active in this social ostracising of her friend, keeping her new Roman friends informed of Gianna’s movements.
On the 29th January, a few days after they had dined together, Ann wrote a formal letter of resignation. It was addressed to Gianna in Ortona and included a request that arrangements could be made about the photographs Ann had taken so that she might be able to use them in anything she might publish. Gianna did not reply for almost 2 months.
Superficially relations between them remained cordial if distant but in March Ann decided not to accept Gianna's offer of continuing overseeing Tricarico. She wanted a clean break. Severance terms were agreed as per Ann’s proposals: so at least I’ve got to her conscience on that one. It makes things easier as I had every intention of being unpleasant about it.
On April 1st (it was surely a coincidence that this was April Fools’ Day) Gianna replied to Ann’s resignation letter from 2 months earlier. It was agreed that Ann could use her photographs as long as they did not identify any specific SCF projects unless authorised by the Fund. This coldly formal letter was written on official SCF Ortona notepaper with a temporary rubber stamp of the Rome office at 21/A, Via Quattro Fontane. It is bizarrely addressed to Ann at the same address. The two top floor apartments shared the same postal address and only the recipient’s name identified the particular apartment
There was no leaving party or celebration although Gianna gave Ann a plant and a very expensive Oxford Italian-English dictionary as a leaving present. By the 8th Ann was free of SCF commitments and began work on the new book, translating the tapes of Armento she had already started recording and organising material from her diary.
Gianna and Jim were now working together although further research needs to be done about his terms of employment, if any. The Fund was still based in Ortona from where they would travel, as Gianna had done for the previous 15 years. Every few weeks they would need to be in Rome and would stay at Via Quattro Fontane but there was little communication with Ann in the adjoining apartment.
Their wedding was now scheduled for July 9th and at the end June Gianna’s mother arrived in Rome. Perhaps Lillian went travelling but Ann did not see her even though she would have been living in the flat next door. Neither did she see Gianna although she learned in a telephone call that there were complications about Ernest’s death certificate. The Italian authorities won’t accept anything less than a notaried statement of Ernest’s death. Gianna and Jim were furious and threatened to cancel the wedding. However, the necessary papers were eventually obtained and the wedding took place two days late on the 11th July.
It is worth giving Ann’s report in full.
Gianna and Jim were married today at 11.30 in the City Hall by a very dignified judge wearing the tricolor sash of authority. Last night I would have bet ten to one that it wouldn’t have come off but it did. Gianna’s mother is little, feisty, very alert and absolutely vicious in intent towards Gianna who does everything to make it worse. How Mrs Guzzeloni could be more than 68 or 70 I don’t know, but the fact remains that she is 84. With all Gianna’s problems of the death certificate and her mother, by last night she was so sullen and surly that she put us through a dinner I would not like to relive. Mother saying that the atmosphere would seem more like a funeral than a wedding: Gianna answering that it wouldn’t be if she (Mother) hadn’t come. Jim out of his mind trying to keep some more or less straight pattern going, I was trying to avoid the fights between Gianna and Jim and Nina kept mother occupied with the most incredible line of chatter and gayness which finally dwindled off into opera librettos and Italian songs to mother’s enchantment. When we finally got home I was furious at Gianna for never once considering Jim, she was just busy with herself and to hell with how he felt. Jim didn’t know quite what was going on, but he told me this morning that he told her at 1.30 (two hours after we came in) that the whole thing was off unless she wanted to stop being God and the only human alive and from there things picked up a bit. By this morning Gianna accepted that her mother would be here today, would leave tomorrow and that after all she was not the most important problem anyway......then we went to the City Hall and got it done.......I still agree with Mrs G that the atmosphere was more of a funeral than a wedding. Bruna Sevini, who was the interpreter, is still shaking her head......As you can tell a discouraging affair all the way round and I’m afraid one with little hope of success.
After such an unfortunate beginning Ann may be forgiven for her pessimistic forecast but she was wrong. Gianna’s marriage to Jim was to last for another 25 years.
The following day Gianna, Jim, Bruna and Ann went swimming. Writing about it to her parents Ann could not resist quoting Bruna: This morning we got them married; now we’re supplying them with their honeymoon.
Back in Ortona Gianna gave a party for Jim and invited Ann. There was gossip that Jim’s arrival had forced Ann to resign and Gianna felt that Ann’s presence would scotch any rumours. Ann found that the party a bit strange especially as Jim had still not learned Italian and Gianna had to translate everything for him. She claimed that Margherita and Giovanna, Gianna’s assistants, had complained to her that Gianna spends all her time translating conversations for him so they can’t discuss their problems with her. Writing to her parents she described Jim as looking like one of those underfed, greenish Christs that were painted in the 1700s and was amused that Pasquale called him ‘Christo Morto’, the nearest he could get to ‘Mr Mourton’ (29/7). Ann’s air of superiority and use of wounding sarcasm is particularly noticeable at this time.
It was Jim’s responsibility during the first part of the year to organise the summer work camps. Three Abruzzo villages were selected and about 40 English boys arrived in August. This time I was sent to Civitaluparella where Ida was the camp cook and Giovanna Dall’Asta was the supervisor. We decorated the old nursery building which appears in the 1960 film ‘Above the Sangro’ and the more artistic among us painted children’s cartoon frescoes on the walls. Jim was in overall control although Gianna accompanied him on his visits of inspection. Sorino, dressed in khaki fatigues, was usually the driver and, if they arrived just before lunch, extra supplies of wine had to be ordered from the wine shop on the main square and a late return for the afternoon shift usually followed. As far as we were concerned, the newly married Mourtons seemed very happy. When they visited Rome at the end of the month Ann wrote that Jim looked well and sunburned..... having something of his own to run and do, he seems more effective.
On October 9th a landslide into the lake behind the Longarone dam caused a flood which killed 1450 people in the Piave Valley. The SCF provided aid and Jim and Gianna went straight to the scene and organised a centre for identifying the bodies. Ann described it as horrible and heartbreaking work. They stayed for 3 weeks and Ann entertained them for drinks when they passed through Rome on their way back to Ortona at the beginning of November.
Ann and Gianna’s lives had now diverged to the extent that Ann’s letters to her parents contain very little news of Gianna, Jim or the SCF work. Ann continued working on the book and enjoying her busy social life with Nina. They remained in the Via Quattro Fontane apartment and occasionally saw their next door neighbours when they visited Rome.
I returned to Italy the following summer thanks to an unexpected £25 win on the Premium Bonds. I met Gianna and Jim in Ortona and travelled with them to Rome where I stayed in their apartment. We had dinner on the terrace but I have no recollection of meeting an American woman from the next door apartment. I left them to explore Italy and hitch hiked to Florence, Milan, Turin and Venice before linking up with fellow students on the beach at Viareggio where I ran out of money and had to make a dash for home.
In 1968 the Save the Children Fund closed down its permanent office in Italy. Gianna had been the Fund’s representative for 21 years and her life’s work had ended. She was not yet 50. Fortunately she had a pension and she and Jim left Ortona and went to live permanently in Rome at the apartment in Via Quattro Fontane. The following year Ann published her book about Tricarico. It was called ‘Torregreca’.
The book was well received and critics remarked on its lack of sentimentality in its portrayal of Italian peasant life. It contains a mixture of diary material about the author’s experiences living in a small town in Lucania, and personal stories told to the author by a local doctor, Luca Montefalcone, and a peasant woman, Chichella Fascide. The Chichella sequences are probably the most powerful in the book and these are based on transcripts of the tapes Ann made with Armento in 1963.
The book is written in the first person and the unnamed writer is identified as an American female who has had previous experience working in the villages of Southern Italy. It is set in a town called Torregreca and the narrative follows more or less exactly the events described in Ann’s letters when she lived in Tricarico. As well as changing the name of the town, the names of all the real life characters are changed: for example, Signora Armento becomes Chichella Fascide and Rocco Mazzarone becomes Luca Montefalcone. However, all other aspects of their histories and personalities remain the same and the real life models for the fictional characters would have been instantly recognisable to anybody who knew Tricarico. The book also contains photographs of the town and, as Gianna Dall’Asta remarked in a letter to KW, they immediately identify Torregreca as Tricarico. As early as July 24th 1963 Ann wrote: if it is ever published in Italy I must change the names, not because of her (Armento) but because of the story of the father and to protect her children, but it is obvious even today that she failed in her desire to preserve the anonymity of the town and its people.
Gianna was angry and upset when she read it.
In May Miss C. Winifred Harley, a member of the SCF council, wrote a personal letter to Ann congratulating her on the book. Mrs Harley was a frequent visitor to Southern Italy and had been present at the opening of the Tricarico nursery. She describes the book as an enjoyable and illuminating study but goes on: As it was Gianna and the SCF which gave you the opportunity of getting to these places and who introduced you to Tricarico, I think it would have been courteous to have acknowledged her help in one sentence at the beginning! Gianna and her husband are very hurt that you seem to have ignored her help altogether and made out that you alone created the nursery and the work there. I think this is a pity as it would not have in any way diminished your own contribution to the town and your valuable picture of the people and the life.
Neither Gianna nor the Fund is identified by name in the book. The writer works for ‘a private British charitable agency’and the representative of this organisation is described simply as ‘a young Englishwoman’. The reader is led to believe that the writer’s presence in Torregreca was almost entirely her own idea but Ann’s letters show that Gianna had been developing the nursery project in Tricarico for several years and it was through Gianna’s efforts that Ann was invited to go there, open the nursery and help with housing allocation.
Ann received Miss Harley’s letter on May 13th and immediately replied, writing on Via Quattro Fontane headed notepaper. She quite rightly reminds Mrs Harley that the book is not primarily about the nursery or the SCF work, but about Tricarico, Lucania and the southern Italian situation. She goes on to claim that Gianna did not want to be involved in the book in any way. She felt that she and the work might be compromised if there were any mention of the agency. There is no evidence to confirm this but it would correspond with Gianna’s known feelings about writing about ‘The Work’. If the letter had ended there it would be a reasonable rebuttal of Miss Harley’s criticism but Ann goes on to suggest that she was solely responsible for the work in Tricarico: I spent the first months in Tricarico, and they were the difficult ones, without Gianna’s help and almost without seeing her at all. Her visits thereafter were sporadic. Ann’s 1959 letters show that this was simply not true, Gianna made frequent visits to Tricarico and, in August 1959, even spent a nine day vacation in the town with Ann. Copies of the letter to Miss Harley were sent to Sir Colin Thornley, the Director General of the SCF; Caroline Hobhouse, her agent; and a third copy was sent to ‘Mrs James Mourton’. It is not clear whether the latter was posted or hand delivered to the next door apartment in Via Quattro Fontane. Unfortunately there is no record in the Vassar archive of any covering note sent to Gianna, nor of Gianna’s reaction.
However the archive contains a copy of the covering note sent to her agent:
The “ Gianna” referred to in the enclosed correspondence is Giovanna Thompson Morton (sic), the representative of the British Save the Children Fund in Italy, and old friend (?), present neighbour and hypocrite. Miss Harley was at one time head of the Fund’s nurseries committee which sent Gianna off into the blue 20 years ago without funds, transportation or even a clear idea of what she was supposed to do. Miss Harley has apparently heard Gianna on the subject of the book; she should hear Gianna on the subject of Miss C. Winifred Harley. Anyway, it’s one of those lady-like tempests that I could not resist having a swat at.
Whether it was a lady-like tempest or a storm in a teacup, the post publication squabble does not alter the originality or the strength of the writing in ‘Torregreca’. Forty years later the inaccuracies in the narrative seem of little consequence and Ann would not be the first autobiographer to exaggerate her own contribution. The episode even has potentially comic dimensions: did Ann tip toe across a darkened landing to slip her correspondence with Miss Harley under Gianna’s door? Did they inadvertently meet in the cramped old elevator or when putting rubbish out for collection and studiously ignore each other?
But the literary blurring of the distinction between fact and fiction needs to be handled with great responsibility. Both Gianna and Ann were successful social workers because they gained the trust of the people of the Southern mountain villages. That trust was betrayed in ‘Torregreca’ and Gianna had every right to be angry. In 2010, Giovanna Dall’Asta wrote: Gianna told me the book had wounded somebody – someone who did not deserve it. This could be any number of people in a complex list of dramatis personae. When she was tape recording Armento’s story Ann thought her to be very intelligent and aware of what she was doing although, at that time, perhaps even Ann did not appreciate how easy it would be to identify Tricarico and its people in the published book. Mazzarone might also have had reasons to believe that there had been a breach of trust, to say nothing of ‘Sister Clemente’ with her lesbian crush.
That Gianna felt personally wounded by the publication of the book is easy to understand. Apart from the issues of trust, it demonstrated how far Ann had eclipsed Gianna and marks the lowest point in their relationship. Coming less than a year after the SCF had closed its operation in Italy it must have made a depressing read. Their friendship had once been very close and over the years they developed an understanding and acceptance of each other’s weaknesses and fears. They had so much in common: they were both strong, intelligent women who learned much from each other and, as in any relationship, sometimes took advantage of each other, and both were ‘running away’, Gianna from the suffocating relationship with her mother, and Ann from the guilt of her disastrous marriages.
Gianna’s life had been marked by the death of two men, her father and Ernest. Her father’s death resulted in her being trapped with her mother in a suburban house in Lincoln from which she was desperate to escape and determined never to return. Ernest’s death had left her with a legacy of ideals and responsibilities that were hard to live up to although she remained ‘married’ to Ortona, Abruzzo and the people of the mountain villages. It would have been impossible for her to have left ‘The Work’ in 1958: the extent to which it had a hold over her is illustrated in the cartoon she made for Ann in 1957.
Research still needs to be done into their relationship over the next 16 years but they remained living in adjoining apartments until Ann moved to Cortona in Tuscany after which they had little or no contact. Ann became the successful author of four more books about Italy. It is not known what happened to Nina. Gianna and Jim remained married. Jim got a job with the British Council, the cultural department of the British Foreign Office, which was conveniently based at the Embassy just across the road, and Gianna did occasional work translating film scripts for dubbing. Even though she was no longer on the staff of the SCF, she still represented the organisation whenever required. Lilian Guzzeloni died in Lincoln in 1975 at the age of 96.
In the early 1980s parts of the Palazzo Drago were renovated and Gianna and Jim moved from the top floor apartment to another apartment two floors below. However, their address remained 21A Via Quattro Fontane and it was to there that, out of the blue, Ann wrote on the 23rd April 1985.
Dear Gianna,
The other day Bruna (Sevini, who had been present at the wedding) told me that a mutual friend of yours and hers had said that you had been ill. Now that I’ve written that down it sounds highly confused and circumstantial, but i hope it is not true, or if true, that you’re much better. You’ve always had such glorious health (and determination to ignore it if it failed you) that it’s hard to imagine you as anything but healthy. The impression is partly association, of course – your mother’s constitution having been one of those forces of nature that never seemed quite real.
For a number of years Bruna has come up to Cortona with me each time I come back from the States to cushion the shock of the horrors that inevitably await me. A week ago it was burst pipes and bills, bills, bills. Years ago, when I redid the house, I was lucky in one of the workmen, a peasant who lived nearby. He and his wife have taken care of me and the house ever since, bless them so it was not a matter of cascades of water. The plumber and muratore had put me all back together. Now all I need is the courage to face the painter. I may not have enough this year. All I long to do right now is have a peaceful summer. The ladst two have not been spectacular for that.
In July ’83 my father had a heart attack and that took me back for three months. Then came July ’84 and my mother broke her hip, so off I went again and am only now returning. (The last few years I’ve spent most of the winter with them. You know that old argument about only children and parents and duty and conscience etc. ) What we’re running at the moment is a private nursing home: three nurses, three maids in staggered shifts and a dutiful daughter to fill in whenever one of the cogs in the system decides to take a day, a week, a month off. We’ve hit a sort of plateau – for the moment – and I thought I’d escape for a while. The prospects, however, are not great: he’s 87, she’s 85. What puzzles me is that she was always ‘frail’. Like your mother. And tenacious, it turns out. My father has changed very little. Now that I think about it, she probably hasn’t either.
In the spare moments I have been trying to write about the Abruzzo, something that thirty years ago I hoped you would do. You could do it so much better than I. If and when I ever get it in shape to show anyone, would you read it? Corrections and objections invited. At this point I have honestly no idea when – as you can tell from the above paragraph. Sometime, eventually.......
In the meantime, I do hope you’re better.
My best to you and Jim.
Gianna replied on the 21st May.
My dear Ann,
Your letter of April 23 gave me great pleasure and I was happy to get all your latest news. Rome is really a small village when you think that news of ‘my illness’ reached you in Cortona.
‘My illness’ I suppose should be got out of the way first. It is the strangest thing – started with difficulty in swallowing, even a glass of water, and other unpleasant side effects but no pain at all at any time. Very good for the figure but not for anything else. Being unable to eat brought me down to about 40 kg which was pleasant but, alas, did not last too long! The secret was in being unable to eat anything except semolina and fruit.
Finally I went to a series of otorinolaringoiatri (what a lovely name) who all said that there was absolutely nothing wrong with my throat.
Through friends I was then put in touch with a team of young doctors at the Policlinico Gemelli who through simple medical treatment got me practically back to normal in no time. The treatment consisted, and consists, of a daily dose of one of the new wonder drugs. Apparently all my problems were due a glandular dysfunction which affected the blood. ( No it is not AYDS!) Now, part of the treatment consists of regular blood tests, every two months and the results show a gradual return to normality. There is only one snag which is a nuisance. Both the drugs which I have to take alternately seem to have a secondary effect on the eyes, nothing wrong with vision as such, but it affects the balance and the middle vision. If I keep my head still I can read, type, watch TV with no problem at all. He doctors say that it will ‘go off’ and I have gone through extensive eye tests that show that there is nothing wrong with the eyes themselves.
I lead a very pure life, not through doctors’ orders but because my taste buds seem to have altered. Therefore, no tea or coffee, no beer or alcohol – just pure water and fruit juices – which makes for a clear skin and rosy cheeks. On the other hand, eating and sleeping well and not taking much exercise tend to make you rather plump and, for my tastes, am now two or three kgs too heavy.
Gianna continues with complaints about bureaucracy in the Italian Health system and difficulties with Jim’s pension arrangements. She goes on to describe the new apartment before returning to more personal matters:
I am sorry to hear about your parents; distance causes a number of extra problems on top of the ever-present guilt feeling which is the burden of only children, as I know only too well. In the last few weeks of my mother’s life I practically commuted between here and Lincoln but I cannot cease to be grateful for the excellent care my mother received. She died surrounded by at least 30 library books brought into the hospital by the volunteer group – she was studying the Inca civilisation at the time of her death. I am quite convinced that her last few years were as peaceful and as serene as could be expected.
When next you write to your parents please send them my warmest greetings, I always remember their kindness with affection and gratitude.
Your plan to write a book on your early days in the Abruzzi leaves me with mixed feelings as you can imagine. A lot of people are pressurising me to write that book but I am reluctant to embark on this without a great deal of research and further in depth studies. I still do not understand so many aspects of the people’s character in the South and their reactions – even today when there is a tendency towards levelling, thanks perhaps to television and further education.
I will certainly be happy to read your draft when you feel that you have reached a suitable point.
On a funnier note – Sorino is now the Ortona President of the Associazione Nazionale Marinai d’Italia (you may remember that he was enrolled in the Italian Navy during the war and that his service lasted three or four days before the Armistice!)........he seems to be busy and happy and should be in receipt of an adequate pension.
By the way, speaking of old times, any news of Nina? Is she permanently in the States? What is she doing?
Jim joins me in sending our good wishes and thank you again for your newsy letter – sorry for the delay in replying.
There is no salutation – just a signature – Gianna.
Gianna died the following year.
In 1990 Ann published ‘Where It All Began’. It is the nearest thing to a biography of Gianna’s early life that we have. The book includes some of the material written in 1958 in which Ann described her impressions when Gianna first took her to the Abruzzo. The writing in these early sequences is harsh and uncompromising but the effect is softened by her description of Gianna and the relationship which developed between two lonely young women. Over the nine years they lived and worked together Ann got to know Gianna’s strengths, weaknesses, frailties and fears. If in ‘Torregreca’ she chose not to acknowledge the contribution of her friend and mentor, in ‘Where It All Began’ she wrote about Gianna with admiration and affection, and preserved the memory of a woman who cast a spell and ‘convinced those who heard her that they were in a saintly presence.’
Ann died in Rome, Georgia, USA in 2003.
Click here to go to Acknowledgements
During the holiday Ann decided that she must terminate her contract with Gianna and the SCF although this time there was no question of returning to live in the USA. Being away from Italy probably gave her some perspective and she was able to discuss the matter with her parents who, if they couldn’t have their daughter at home, would prefer that she was living an agreeable life in Rome rather than suffering the privations of life in a southern Italian town. Back in Italy, Nina certainly knew of this decision and was busy lining up some money making opportunities.
During her time in America Ann began to firm up her ideas for the book she intended writing. This was eventually published in 1969 as ‘Torregreca’ and was to have an important impact on her relationship with Gianna. She would not return to the material she began in 1958 which was about Abruzzo - this time she would write about life in Tricarico and an important part would be the life story of a Lucanian peasant. Ann hoped to persuade Signora Armento to talk about her life and experiences and record the results on a tape recorder. She discussed this with her father who advised her to consult a lawyer when she got back to Rome: not only did she need to ensure that her terms of employment with the SCF did not prevent her from publishing her experiences but she should get Armento to sign a disclaimer to avoid copyright problems when the book was published.
Ann arrived back in Italy on about 20th January. It was not until a week later that she told Gianna of her decision to quit. She had dinner with Gianna and Jim in Rome and announced that she would like to leave by the first April. In a letter to her parents of 29th January she records that Gianna replied “Oh really, don’t you want to keep on even with Tricarico.......well, we’ll talk about it some time.” According to Ann, Gianna then changed the subject and it was never referred to again for the rest of the evening.
Ann’s account remains uncorroborated but it suggests another example of Gianna’s insensitivity. Alternatively Gianna might simply have misread the situation believing that this was just another resignation threat like all the others that had preceded it and that it would blow over in time. Ann, however, felt insulted and thought Gianna graceless. She returned home that night to find Nina and Renee, a friend, who, after being told the story replied: “Oh Ann, don’t bother to be upset, they’re both frightfully undistinguished people”. Ann wrote to her parents that she was amused by this reaction (29/1)
During the previous two years a class divide had developed between Gianna and Ann. Living in Rome Ann had begun to move in a different social circle from that which Gianna knew. Gianna’s connections in the city largely comprised people associated with ‘The Work’: ambassadors, politicians and administrators. Ann’s set was younger, more glamorous and frequently associated with the arts. With her Chicago social connections she also became part of a wealthy expatriate group. By contrast, Gianna seemed dowdy and provincial. Also, she had brought an uninvited stranger into their midst, Jim. Many of Ann’s friends were female and they followed Ann’s lead in regarding him as dull and uninteresting. By the middle of February Gianna and Jim were actively being shunned by Ann’s acquaintances in Rome: excuses were made for refusing their dinner invitations and social events were deliberately organised for times when they would not be in Rome. (16/2) and (22/2). Ann was not only complicit but active in this social ostracising of her friend, keeping her new Roman friends informed of Gianna’s movements.
On the 29th January, a few days after they had dined together, Ann wrote a formal letter of resignation. It was addressed to Gianna in Ortona and included a request that arrangements could be made about the photographs Ann had taken so that she might be able to use them in anything she might publish. Gianna did not reply for almost 2 months.
Superficially relations between them remained cordial if distant but in March Ann decided not to accept Gianna's offer of continuing overseeing Tricarico. She wanted a clean break. Severance terms were agreed as per Ann’s proposals: so at least I’ve got to her conscience on that one. It makes things easier as I had every intention of being unpleasant about it.
On April 1st (it was surely a coincidence that this was April Fools’ Day) Gianna replied to Ann’s resignation letter from 2 months earlier. It was agreed that Ann could use her photographs as long as they did not identify any specific SCF projects unless authorised by the Fund. This coldly formal letter was written on official SCF Ortona notepaper with a temporary rubber stamp of the Rome office at 21/A, Via Quattro Fontane. It is bizarrely addressed to Ann at the same address. The two top floor apartments shared the same postal address and only the recipient’s name identified the particular apartment
There was no leaving party or celebration although Gianna gave Ann a plant and a very expensive Oxford Italian-English dictionary as a leaving present. By the 8th Ann was free of SCF commitments and began work on the new book, translating the tapes of Armento she had already started recording and organising material from her diary.
Gianna and Jim were now working together although further research needs to be done about his terms of employment, if any. The Fund was still based in Ortona from where they would travel, as Gianna had done for the previous 15 years. Every few weeks they would need to be in Rome and would stay at Via Quattro Fontane but there was little communication with Ann in the adjoining apartment.
Their wedding was now scheduled for July 9th and at the end June Gianna’s mother arrived in Rome. Perhaps Lillian went travelling but Ann did not see her even though she would have been living in the flat next door. Neither did she see Gianna although she learned in a telephone call that there were complications about Ernest’s death certificate. The Italian authorities won’t accept anything less than a notaried statement of Ernest’s death. Gianna and Jim were furious and threatened to cancel the wedding. However, the necessary papers were eventually obtained and the wedding took place two days late on the 11th July.
It is worth giving Ann’s report in full.
Gianna and Jim were married today at 11.30 in the City Hall by a very dignified judge wearing the tricolor sash of authority. Last night I would have bet ten to one that it wouldn’t have come off but it did. Gianna’s mother is little, feisty, very alert and absolutely vicious in intent towards Gianna who does everything to make it worse. How Mrs Guzzeloni could be more than 68 or 70 I don’t know, but the fact remains that she is 84. With all Gianna’s problems of the death certificate and her mother, by last night she was so sullen and surly that she put us through a dinner I would not like to relive. Mother saying that the atmosphere would seem more like a funeral than a wedding: Gianna answering that it wouldn’t be if she (Mother) hadn’t come. Jim out of his mind trying to keep some more or less straight pattern going, I was trying to avoid the fights between Gianna and Jim and Nina kept mother occupied with the most incredible line of chatter and gayness which finally dwindled off into opera librettos and Italian songs to mother’s enchantment. When we finally got home I was furious at Gianna for never once considering Jim, she was just busy with herself and to hell with how he felt. Jim didn’t know quite what was going on, but he told me this morning that he told her at 1.30 (two hours after we came in) that the whole thing was off unless she wanted to stop being God and the only human alive and from there things picked up a bit. By this morning Gianna accepted that her mother would be here today, would leave tomorrow and that after all she was not the most important problem anyway......then we went to the City Hall and got it done.......I still agree with Mrs G that the atmosphere was more of a funeral than a wedding. Bruna Sevini, who was the interpreter, is still shaking her head......As you can tell a discouraging affair all the way round and I’m afraid one with little hope of success.
After such an unfortunate beginning Ann may be forgiven for her pessimistic forecast but she was wrong. Gianna’s marriage to Jim was to last for another 25 years.
The following day Gianna, Jim, Bruna and Ann went swimming. Writing about it to her parents Ann could not resist quoting Bruna: This morning we got them married; now we’re supplying them with their honeymoon.
Back in Ortona Gianna gave a party for Jim and invited Ann. There was gossip that Jim’s arrival had forced Ann to resign and Gianna felt that Ann’s presence would scotch any rumours. Ann found that the party a bit strange especially as Jim had still not learned Italian and Gianna had to translate everything for him. She claimed that Margherita and Giovanna, Gianna’s assistants, had complained to her that Gianna spends all her time translating conversations for him so they can’t discuss their problems with her. Writing to her parents she described Jim as looking like one of those underfed, greenish Christs that were painted in the 1700s and was amused that Pasquale called him ‘Christo Morto’, the nearest he could get to ‘Mr Mourton’ (29/7). Ann’s air of superiority and use of wounding sarcasm is particularly noticeable at this time.
It was Jim’s responsibility during the first part of the year to organise the summer work camps. Three Abruzzo villages were selected and about 40 English boys arrived in August. This time I was sent to Civitaluparella where Ida was the camp cook and Giovanna Dall’Asta was the supervisor. We decorated the old nursery building which appears in the 1960 film ‘Above the Sangro’ and the more artistic among us painted children’s cartoon frescoes on the walls. Jim was in overall control although Gianna accompanied him on his visits of inspection. Sorino, dressed in khaki fatigues, was usually the driver and, if they arrived just before lunch, extra supplies of wine had to be ordered from the wine shop on the main square and a late return for the afternoon shift usually followed. As far as we were concerned, the newly married Mourtons seemed very happy. When they visited Rome at the end of the month Ann wrote that Jim looked well and sunburned..... having something of his own to run and do, he seems more effective.
On October 9th a landslide into the lake behind the Longarone dam caused a flood which killed 1450 people in the Piave Valley. The SCF provided aid and Jim and Gianna went straight to the scene and organised a centre for identifying the bodies. Ann described it as horrible and heartbreaking work. They stayed for 3 weeks and Ann entertained them for drinks when they passed through Rome on their way back to Ortona at the beginning of November.
Ann and Gianna’s lives had now diverged to the extent that Ann’s letters to her parents contain very little news of Gianna, Jim or the SCF work. Ann continued working on the book and enjoying her busy social life with Nina. They remained in the Via Quattro Fontane apartment and occasionally saw their next door neighbours when they visited Rome.
I returned to Italy the following summer thanks to an unexpected £25 win on the Premium Bonds. I met Gianna and Jim in Ortona and travelled with them to Rome where I stayed in their apartment. We had dinner on the terrace but I have no recollection of meeting an American woman from the next door apartment. I left them to explore Italy and hitch hiked to Florence, Milan, Turin and Venice before linking up with fellow students on the beach at Viareggio where I ran out of money and had to make a dash for home.
In 1968 the Save the Children Fund closed down its permanent office in Italy. Gianna had been the Fund’s representative for 21 years and her life’s work had ended. She was not yet 50. Fortunately she had a pension and she and Jim left Ortona and went to live permanently in Rome at the apartment in Via Quattro Fontane. The following year Ann published her book about Tricarico. It was called ‘Torregreca’.
The book was well received and critics remarked on its lack of sentimentality in its portrayal of Italian peasant life. It contains a mixture of diary material about the author’s experiences living in a small town in Lucania, and personal stories told to the author by a local doctor, Luca Montefalcone, and a peasant woman, Chichella Fascide. The Chichella sequences are probably the most powerful in the book and these are based on transcripts of the tapes Ann made with Armento in 1963.
The book is written in the first person and the unnamed writer is identified as an American female who has had previous experience working in the villages of Southern Italy. It is set in a town called Torregreca and the narrative follows more or less exactly the events described in Ann’s letters when she lived in Tricarico. As well as changing the name of the town, the names of all the real life characters are changed: for example, Signora Armento becomes Chichella Fascide and Rocco Mazzarone becomes Luca Montefalcone. However, all other aspects of their histories and personalities remain the same and the real life models for the fictional characters would have been instantly recognisable to anybody who knew Tricarico. The book also contains photographs of the town and, as Gianna Dall’Asta remarked in a letter to KW, they immediately identify Torregreca as Tricarico. As early as July 24th 1963 Ann wrote: if it is ever published in Italy I must change the names, not because of her (Armento) but because of the story of the father and to protect her children, but it is obvious even today that she failed in her desire to preserve the anonymity of the town and its people.
Gianna was angry and upset when she read it.
In May Miss C. Winifred Harley, a member of the SCF council, wrote a personal letter to Ann congratulating her on the book. Mrs Harley was a frequent visitor to Southern Italy and had been present at the opening of the Tricarico nursery. She describes the book as an enjoyable and illuminating study but goes on: As it was Gianna and the SCF which gave you the opportunity of getting to these places and who introduced you to Tricarico, I think it would have been courteous to have acknowledged her help in one sentence at the beginning! Gianna and her husband are very hurt that you seem to have ignored her help altogether and made out that you alone created the nursery and the work there. I think this is a pity as it would not have in any way diminished your own contribution to the town and your valuable picture of the people and the life.
Neither Gianna nor the Fund is identified by name in the book. The writer works for ‘a private British charitable agency’and the representative of this organisation is described simply as ‘a young Englishwoman’. The reader is led to believe that the writer’s presence in Torregreca was almost entirely her own idea but Ann’s letters show that Gianna had been developing the nursery project in Tricarico for several years and it was through Gianna’s efforts that Ann was invited to go there, open the nursery and help with housing allocation.
Ann received Miss Harley’s letter on May 13th and immediately replied, writing on Via Quattro Fontane headed notepaper. She quite rightly reminds Mrs Harley that the book is not primarily about the nursery or the SCF work, but about Tricarico, Lucania and the southern Italian situation. She goes on to claim that Gianna did not want to be involved in the book in any way. She felt that she and the work might be compromised if there were any mention of the agency. There is no evidence to confirm this but it would correspond with Gianna’s known feelings about writing about ‘The Work’. If the letter had ended there it would be a reasonable rebuttal of Miss Harley’s criticism but Ann goes on to suggest that she was solely responsible for the work in Tricarico: I spent the first months in Tricarico, and they were the difficult ones, without Gianna’s help and almost without seeing her at all. Her visits thereafter were sporadic. Ann’s 1959 letters show that this was simply not true, Gianna made frequent visits to Tricarico and, in August 1959, even spent a nine day vacation in the town with Ann. Copies of the letter to Miss Harley were sent to Sir Colin Thornley, the Director General of the SCF; Caroline Hobhouse, her agent; and a third copy was sent to ‘Mrs James Mourton’. It is not clear whether the latter was posted or hand delivered to the next door apartment in Via Quattro Fontane. Unfortunately there is no record in the Vassar archive of any covering note sent to Gianna, nor of Gianna’s reaction.
However the archive contains a copy of the covering note sent to her agent:
The “ Gianna” referred to in the enclosed correspondence is Giovanna Thompson Morton (sic), the representative of the British Save the Children Fund in Italy, and old friend (?), present neighbour and hypocrite. Miss Harley was at one time head of the Fund’s nurseries committee which sent Gianna off into the blue 20 years ago without funds, transportation or even a clear idea of what she was supposed to do. Miss Harley has apparently heard Gianna on the subject of the book; she should hear Gianna on the subject of Miss C. Winifred Harley. Anyway, it’s one of those lady-like tempests that I could not resist having a swat at.
Whether it was a lady-like tempest or a storm in a teacup, the post publication squabble does not alter the originality or the strength of the writing in ‘Torregreca’. Forty years later the inaccuracies in the narrative seem of little consequence and Ann would not be the first autobiographer to exaggerate her own contribution. The episode even has potentially comic dimensions: did Ann tip toe across a darkened landing to slip her correspondence with Miss Harley under Gianna’s door? Did they inadvertently meet in the cramped old elevator or when putting rubbish out for collection and studiously ignore each other?
But the literary blurring of the distinction between fact and fiction needs to be handled with great responsibility. Both Gianna and Ann were successful social workers because they gained the trust of the people of the Southern mountain villages. That trust was betrayed in ‘Torregreca’ and Gianna had every right to be angry. In 2010, Giovanna Dall’Asta wrote: Gianna told me the book had wounded somebody – someone who did not deserve it. This could be any number of people in a complex list of dramatis personae. When she was tape recording Armento’s story Ann thought her to be very intelligent and aware of what she was doing although, at that time, perhaps even Ann did not appreciate how easy it would be to identify Tricarico and its people in the published book. Mazzarone might also have had reasons to believe that there had been a breach of trust, to say nothing of ‘Sister Clemente’ with her lesbian crush.
That Gianna felt personally wounded by the publication of the book is easy to understand. Apart from the issues of trust, it demonstrated how far Ann had eclipsed Gianna and marks the lowest point in their relationship. Coming less than a year after the SCF had closed its operation in Italy it must have made a depressing read. Their friendship had once been very close and over the years they developed an understanding and acceptance of each other’s weaknesses and fears. They had so much in common: they were both strong, intelligent women who learned much from each other and, as in any relationship, sometimes took advantage of each other, and both were ‘running away’, Gianna from the suffocating relationship with her mother, and Ann from the guilt of her disastrous marriages.
Gianna’s life had been marked by the death of two men, her father and Ernest. Her father’s death resulted in her being trapped with her mother in a suburban house in Lincoln from which she was desperate to escape and determined never to return. Ernest’s death had left her with a legacy of ideals and responsibilities that were hard to live up to although she remained ‘married’ to Ortona, Abruzzo and the people of the mountain villages. It would have been impossible for her to have left ‘The Work’ in 1958: the extent to which it had a hold over her is illustrated in the cartoon she made for Ann in 1957.
Research still needs to be done into their relationship over the next 16 years but they remained living in adjoining apartments until Ann moved to Cortona in Tuscany after which they had little or no contact. Ann became the successful author of four more books about Italy. It is not known what happened to Nina. Gianna and Jim remained married. Jim got a job with the British Council, the cultural department of the British Foreign Office, which was conveniently based at the Embassy just across the road, and Gianna did occasional work translating film scripts for dubbing. Even though she was no longer on the staff of the SCF, she still represented the organisation whenever required. Lilian Guzzeloni died in Lincoln in 1975 at the age of 96.
In the early 1980s parts of the Palazzo Drago were renovated and Gianna and Jim moved from the top floor apartment to another apartment two floors below. However, their address remained 21A Via Quattro Fontane and it was to there that, out of the blue, Ann wrote on the 23rd April 1985.
Dear Gianna,
The other day Bruna (Sevini, who had been present at the wedding) told me that a mutual friend of yours and hers had said that you had been ill. Now that I’ve written that down it sounds highly confused and circumstantial, but i hope it is not true, or if true, that you’re much better. You’ve always had such glorious health (and determination to ignore it if it failed you) that it’s hard to imagine you as anything but healthy. The impression is partly association, of course – your mother’s constitution having been one of those forces of nature that never seemed quite real.
For a number of years Bruna has come up to Cortona with me each time I come back from the States to cushion the shock of the horrors that inevitably await me. A week ago it was burst pipes and bills, bills, bills. Years ago, when I redid the house, I was lucky in one of the workmen, a peasant who lived nearby. He and his wife have taken care of me and the house ever since, bless them so it was not a matter of cascades of water. The plumber and muratore had put me all back together. Now all I need is the courage to face the painter. I may not have enough this year. All I long to do right now is have a peaceful summer. The ladst two have not been spectacular for that.
In July ’83 my father had a heart attack and that took me back for three months. Then came July ’84 and my mother broke her hip, so off I went again and am only now returning. (The last few years I’ve spent most of the winter with them. You know that old argument about only children and parents and duty and conscience etc. ) What we’re running at the moment is a private nursing home: three nurses, three maids in staggered shifts and a dutiful daughter to fill in whenever one of the cogs in the system decides to take a day, a week, a month off. We’ve hit a sort of plateau – for the moment – and I thought I’d escape for a while. The prospects, however, are not great: he’s 87, she’s 85. What puzzles me is that she was always ‘frail’. Like your mother. And tenacious, it turns out. My father has changed very little. Now that I think about it, she probably hasn’t either.
In the spare moments I have been trying to write about the Abruzzo, something that thirty years ago I hoped you would do. You could do it so much better than I. If and when I ever get it in shape to show anyone, would you read it? Corrections and objections invited. At this point I have honestly no idea when – as you can tell from the above paragraph. Sometime, eventually.......
In the meantime, I do hope you’re better.
My best to you and Jim.
Gianna replied on the 21st May.
My dear Ann,
Your letter of April 23 gave me great pleasure and I was happy to get all your latest news. Rome is really a small village when you think that news of ‘my illness’ reached you in Cortona.
‘My illness’ I suppose should be got out of the way first. It is the strangest thing – started with difficulty in swallowing, even a glass of water, and other unpleasant side effects but no pain at all at any time. Very good for the figure but not for anything else. Being unable to eat brought me down to about 40 kg which was pleasant but, alas, did not last too long! The secret was in being unable to eat anything except semolina and fruit.
Finally I went to a series of otorinolaringoiatri (what a lovely name) who all said that there was absolutely nothing wrong with my throat.
Through friends I was then put in touch with a team of young doctors at the Policlinico Gemelli who through simple medical treatment got me practically back to normal in no time. The treatment consisted, and consists, of a daily dose of one of the new wonder drugs. Apparently all my problems were due a glandular dysfunction which affected the blood. ( No it is not AYDS!) Now, part of the treatment consists of regular blood tests, every two months and the results show a gradual return to normality. There is only one snag which is a nuisance. Both the drugs which I have to take alternately seem to have a secondary effect on the eyes, nothing wrong with vision as such, but it affects the balance and the middle vision. If I keep my head still I can read, type, watch TV with no problem at all. He doctors say that it will ‘go off’ and I have gone through extensive eye tests that show that there is nothing wrong with the eyes themselves.
I lead a very pure life, not through doctors’ orders but because my taste buds seem to have altered. Therefore, no tea or coffee, no beer or alcohol – just pure water and fruit juices – which makes for a clear skin and rosy cheeks. On the other hand, eating and sleeping well and not taking much exercise tend to make you rather plump and, for my tastes, am now two or three kgs too heavy.
Gianna continues with complaints about bureaucracy in the Italian Health system and difficulties with Jim’s pension arrangements. She goes on to describe the new apartment before returning to more personal matters:
I am sorry to hear about your parents; distance causes a number of extra problems on top of the ever-present guilt feeling which is the burden of only children, as I know only too well. In the last few weeks of my mother’s life I practically commuted between here and Lincoln but I cannot cease to be grateful for the excellent care my mother received. She died surrounded by at least 30 library books brought into the hospital by the volunteer group – she was studying the Inca civilisation at the time of her death. I am quite convinced that her last few years were as peaceful and as serene as could be expected.
When next you write to your parents please send them my warmest greetings, I always remember their kindness with affection and gratitude.
Your plan to write a book on your early days in the Abruzzi leaves me with mixed feelings as you can imagine. A lot of people are pressurising me to write that book but I am reluctant to embark on this without a great deal of research and further in depth studies. I still do not understand so many aspects of the people’s character in the South and their reactions – even today when there is a tendency towards levelling, thanks perhaps to television and further education.
I will certainly be happy to read your draft when you feel that you have reached a suitable point.
On a funnier note – Sorino is now the Ortona President of the Associazione Nazionale Marinai d’Italia (you may remember that he was enrolled in the Italian Navy during the war and that his service lasted three or four days before the Armistice!)........he seems to be busy and happy and should be in receipt of an adequate pension.
By the way, speaking of old times, any news of Nina? Is she permanently in the States? What is she doing?
Jim joins me in sending our good wishes and thank you again for your newsy letter – sorry for the delay in replying.
There is no salutation – just a signature – Gianna.
Gianna died the following year.
In 1990 Ann published ‘Where It All Began’. It is the nearest thing to a biography of Gianna’s early life that we have. The book includes some of the material written in 1958 in which Ann described her impressions when Gianna first took her to the Abruzzo. The writing in these early sequences is harsh and uncompromising but the effect is softened by her description of Gianna and the relationship which developed between two lonely young women. Over the nine years they lived and worked together Ann got to know Gianna’s strengths, weaknesses, frailties and fears. If in ‘Torregreca’ she chose not to acknowledge the contribution of her friend and mentor, in ‘Where It All Began’ she wrote about Gianna with admiration and affection, and preserved the memory of a woman who cast a spell and ‘convinced those who heard her that they were in a saintly presence.’
Ann died in Rome, Georgia, USA in 2003.
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