The Price My Rise And Fall As Natalia Pdf
McLennan, purportedly the highest paid Manhattan call girl of her time, has an interesting story no doubt: topping out at $2,000 an hour, she made headlines in 2005 when she landed on the cover of New York magazine. In this memoir, however, the 28-year-old Montreal resident is unfortunately reticent regarding the emotional and psychological details of her sex- and drug-fueled former life. Drawn by fast money and drugs, would-be actress McLennan hooked up with Jason Itzler, owner of the New York Confidential escort service and self-proclaimed 'King of All Pimps.' ' She writes with detachment and nonchalance about both the idea and the experience of selling her body for cash (she brought along an imprint machine for clients who preferred to pay by credit card), keeping any part of the business from becoming very interesting.
Published in part to capitalize on McLennan's associations with Ashley Dupre, the escort whose liaisons with former New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer led to his resignation, this memoir adds little insight.
In this summer of our discontent, I’ve been rereading “,”the autobiographical novel by the Italian writer Natalia Ginzburg, whichwas recently reissued by The New York Review of Books, in a new,attentive translation by Jenny McPhee. The book, first published inItaly, in 1963, comes at its subject, which is life itself and what itasks of us, obliquely. In the author’s preface, Ginzburg states, “Theplaces, people and events in this book are real. I haven’t invented athing, and each time I found myself slipping into my long-held habits asa novelist and made something up, I was quickly compelled to destroy theinvention.” In an interview, in 1990, Ginzburg recalled, “Autobiographycrept up on me like a wolf.”At the center of “Family Lexicon” is the author’s father, the scientistGiuseppe Levi, by turn endearing and intolerant, who thinks that all of hischildren are jackasses. Every summer, he herds them on mountain hikeswearing hobnailed boots, which the author’s mother, Lidia, who deteststhese excursions, calls “the devil’s idea of fun for his children.” (Oneis reminded of Virginia Woolf’s portrait of her father, Leslie Stephen,another intermittently enraged mountaineer.) Ginzburg labels her parentsas “old-style Socialists,” to whom the rise of Fascism in Italy was ananathema.
When her father bangs his glass on the dinner table, Ginzburgwrites, “We didn’t know if he was angry at Mussolini, or at Alberto, whohadn’t yet returned home. Delinquent!’ he said, as Natalina camein with the soup.” Her mother has a lighter nature, and likes to singsthe songs that she made up in boarding school: “I’m Don Carlos de Tadrid/ And I’m a student from Madrid!” She plays solitaire; if the cards comeout, someone will buy her “a nice cottage.” “Nitwitterie!” herfather says. The book is littered with the confetti of family life.
An uncleis called “The Lunatic,” because he is a psychiatrist; Albertoconstantly drubs his mother for two lire. When a sulky teen-aged Nataliacomes into the room, her mother says, “Here comes Hurricane Maria!” Inthe book’s preface, Ginzburg explains, “These phrases are our Latin, thedictionary of our past, they’re like Egyptian or Assyro-Babylonianhieroglyphics. Whenever one of us says ‘Most eminent Signor Lipmann’.
We immediately hear my father’s impatient voice ringing in in ourears: ‘Enough of that story! I’ve heard it far too many times already.’”The American writer Grace Paley, whose work resembles Ginzburg’s(Eugenio Montale wrote, about “Family Lexicon,” that Ginzburg has anallegiance to “the continuous base of gossip,” which Paley shares),often told her students that every story was really two stories: the oneon the surface, and the one running underneath. The climax was when thetwo stories collided. For Ginzburg, the second story underscoring thefirst is the dark coruscation of history: the role her family played inthe anti-Fascist movement in Italy, and the fate of those closest tothem during the German occupation. It is perhaps best to say straightoff that the book is a masterpiece. By the time Ginzburg wrote “FamilyLexicon,” she had written six terse, exceptionally lucid novels whosesubject was often how carelessness can sunder ties of affection. “,”a that range from a portrait of her friend, thepoet Cesare Pavese, to a sendup of food in London (Ginzburg can be very,very funny), reads as if it were written by a steady hand holding adiamond to glass.
She had also translated Proust into Italian. Her playsincluded “I Married You for the Fun of It,” written for the Italianactress Adriana Asti, and “The Advertisement,” which opened in London, atthe Old Vic, in 1968, with Joan Plowright in the leading role. In“Silence,” the poet Marianne Moore, no stranger to emotionalastringency, wrote, “The deepest feeling always shows itself. / not insilence, but restraint.” The lines might be an entry into Ginzburg’swork, in which banter, slammed doors, and imprecations—the periodictable of family life—are preserved and rendered with detached, vigilantprecision.Ginzburg was born in Palermo in 1916, the fifth and youngest child ofGiuseppe Levi, an Italian Jew, from Trieste, and Lidia Tanzi, aCatholic, from Florence. When she was a small child, the family moved toTurin, when her father, who specialized in the ganglia of the nervoussystem, took up a post at the University of Turin. (Three of Levi’slaboratory assistants would go on to win Nobel Prizes in medicine andphysiology.) The family apartment was a meeting place for Italian poets,painters, intellectuals, and industrialists. Like many youngestchildren, Natalia found it hard to get a word in edgewise; later, shecredited her clear, economical prose style to this noisy obstacle.
Anintroverted child, she read widely, picking long novels off the shelves,and often inventing and inserting a character like herself into thenarrative: a Maisie who recorded the foibles of the adults around her.Her childhood was full of comings and goings. As she writes, her brothers Gino,Alberto, and Mario leave home; her father can’t stand it when theymarry. (When her elder sister, Paola, marries Adriano Olivetti, herfather flies into a rage because he is too rich.) “New star rising,” herfather says, when his children mention a new friend. Her elder brothersreturn and whisper among themselves. One morning, at breakfast, she isintroduced to a Signor Paolo Ferrari, who looks exactly like theanti-Fascist Filippo Turati, who had visited. “Don’t ever tell anyoneI was here,” he whispers.
In an incident that became known as the PonteTresa affair, in 1934, her brother Mario is apprehended bringinganti-Fascist literature into Italy; he escapes by jumping into the riverand swimming to safety in Switzerland. Her brother Gino and her fatherare also jailed. Ginzburg writes, “My mother was constantly wringing herhands and saying in a tone of combined happiness, pride, and terror, ‘Inthe water with his overcoat on!’ ”Natalia grows up and falls in love with a friend of her brotherAlberto’s, Leone Ginzburg. Born in Odessa in 1909, Ginzburg, who wasJewish, left Ukraine with his mother and sister as a child and grew upin Turin. In his twenties, Ginzburg taught Russian languages andliterature at the University of Turin and, with Giulio Einaudi, foundedthe publisher Einaudi Editions, in 1933.
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Around the time of the PonteTresa affair, when Mussolini demanded an oath of loyalty from thefaculty to the Fascist regime, Ginzburg refused and lost his position.Natalia and Leone were married in 1938, the year Italy’s racial lawswere enacted; these rules limited Jewish publications, restricted freedom oftravel, stripped assets owned by Italian Jews, and prohibited them fromholding positions of influence. In 1940, Leone was sent into internalexile, in the Abruzzi region. Natalia followed with their two smallchildren. While in exile, Leone continued, clandestinely, to work as aneditor at Einaudi and to edit a newspaper, L’Italia Libera, that wasthe organ of the secret democratic resistance party. In 1942, NataliaGinzburg’s first novel, “The Road to the City,” was published byEinaudi, under a pseudonym.After the fall of Mussolini, in 1943, Leone returned to Rome, andNatalia stayed in the Abruzzi. Shortly afterward, when the village wasinvaded by Germans, a neighbor said that Natalia was a cousin who hadlost her papers; she and the children got on a German truck that tookthem to Rome, where they hid themselves in the city. In November, 1943,Leone Ginzburg was arrested by the German police and interred in theRegina Coeli prison, on the Via della Lungara, in Trastevere, a shortwalk from the Ponte Sisto.
Three months later, he died as a result ofbeatings and torture, at the hands of the German police. According toprison documents, the cause of death was cardiac arrest and acutecholecystitis, a bacterial infection of the gallbladder, which is oftena result of extreme trauma and multiple bodily injuries.It is characteristic of Ginzburg’s prose, in both “Family Lexicon” andan earlier essay, “Winter in the Abruzzi,” that the descriptions of thisperiod and its immediate aftermath focus on everyday life. In theAbruzzi, the house is drafty, and the stove is hard to light. When shecooks the local mutton, it tastes terrible, but a local girl turns itinto delicious meatballs.
The villagers are incredulous when she takesthe children out for walks in cold weather. Her mornings are taken upwith fastening buttons and peeling oranges. For a few hours in theafternoon, someone else cares for the children, and she has a bit of timeto read and write. In “Family Lexicon,” there is only one directreference to Leone’s death; it is after the war, in the office ofEinaudi, in Rome: “On the wall in his office the publisher had hung aportrait of Leone: his hat slightly at an angle, his eyeglasses low onhis nose, his thick black hair, his deeply dimpled cheeks, his femininehands. Leone had died in prison, in the German section of the ReginaCoeli prison one icy February in Rome during the German occupation.”There is something of Beckett in Ginzburg’s prose; of Chekhov, whom shegreatly admired; and of Shakespeare’s late plays, in which tragedy mostoften occurs offstage. It is one of life’s mysteries that what makestragedy both bearable and unbearable is the same thing—that life goeson.
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After their father’s disappearance and death, the Ginzburg childrenwere hidden in the country with their grandmother, Lidia. Forprotection, they were given her last name. The historian Carlo Ginzburg,the eldest child, remembers the name “Carlo Tanzi” written on theflyleaf of a book he was reading, called “The Happiest Child in theWorld.” By the end of the war, Lidia’s gay face is etched in sorrow. Butshe puts out the cards for solitaire, sings her songs, and exclaims,when Natalia's daughter, Alessandra, a sulky teen-ager, objects to goingto school, “Here comes Hurricane Maria!” The other night, a friendreminded me of Brecht’s answer to the question of whether there will besinging in dark times: “Yes, there will also be singing. About the darktimes.”Throughout her career, Ginzburg was concerned with the fable of familylife. In her late, magisterial epistolary novel, “,”about the life of the nineteenth-century writer Alessandro Manzoni, wehear the family voice unspooling over the course of a century. As aneditor, she was particularly attentive to children in peril.