The best books on why your family left Southern Italy a century ago

This was the first book I read about Basilicata, and it is essential for anyone interested in Southern Italian roots. Written in staggeringly poetic language, it offers a sad but beautiful introduction to the culture and history of the region, which is hardly ever written about and barely even visited, even by Italians.

During WWII, Levi was sent as a prisoner to Basilicata as punishment, to work as a doctor among the peasants there. The book taught me about the feudal farm system still in place there well into the 20th century, about its inhospitable landscape, and its isolated, poverty-stricken population – my ancestors.

It set the bar high for me to write my own memoir and continues to inspire me. The title refers to the fact that the train line only went as far as Eboli – that Christianity and civilization stopped short of Basilicata.

This incredible book gave names and faces to the women of Southern Italy, who, until recently, were mostly ignored by writers—and, by extension, readers. It taught me about the intensely difficult life my own female ancestors endured and stories that did not travel with them to the United States for those who immigrated—stories that were left behind, and for good reason.

The book was written in the 1970s after Cornelisen worked in the South, helping to establish nursery schools there. But the story is not her own. The stories belong to the strong, overworked, oppressed, inspiring women of Basilicata.

I loved the generational sweep of this novel, its gorgeously written history of Calabria, and its character and relationship studies. Though it is fiction and borders on magical realism, Grames spent time in her ancestral village to give the setting and background a wonderful sense of authenticity.

I loved Stella, who overcame bad luck over the decades, and her intense relationship with her sister, Tina. As a woman who wondered about the back story of her own Italian grandmother and old aunts, I was captivated by the descriptions, the attention to language and detail, and this heartbreaking tale of crushing patriarchy.

When I first read Mark’s book, I was jealous of the access he had to his own Southern Italian family. Over the decades, his father had kept strong bonds with the relatives back in Calabria, and so Mark goes with him on a journey that uncovers family secrets and the history of the region.

His beautifully wrought prose brings the landscape, the food, and its people to vivid life. Though it’s labeled a travelogue, it’s much more: a deeply felt story of family and what binds us together.

This anthropological study of Basilicata explained the superstitions that my family carried over with them to New Jersey at the turn of the century. It helped me understand where many of their “backward” ideas came from.

Delving into the folklore, home cures, witchcraft, and rituals of the South, De Martino respects the culture and places it in the context of the harsh, feudal society many of our ancestors escaped. It’s been an academic classic in Italy since the 1950s but was only translated into English for the first time in 2015 by American anthropologist Dorothy Zinn.