Punctuality is only relatively important in Italy and the time is often treated as approximate. Being late for appointments is tolerated rather than welcomed – a quarter of an hour is acceptable, but half an hour is not. So university professors can turn up for their lectures up to a quarter of an hour after the scheduled start, but if they pass that deadline they might find the lecture theatre empty.
Italians could never be considered good at queuing: in fact the idea of standing in line tends to make them laugh. The scrummage that occurs while waiting to go on the chairlift at ski resorts, or to buy tickets for a football match or a concert, occasionally creates real problems. The introduction of number dispensers in some of the places where the worst fights used to break out, such a public office or a fish counter, is to some extent solving the problem. People enjoy collecting the tickets and like the implied ‘fair play’. What could be fairer than arriving early at the office, getting a ticket, going out to do some shopping or to have a cappuccino and then returning to the office just in time for their number to be called.
Family Matters
The family is far and away the most important social, economic, organisational and political unit in Italy.
“The family is far and away the most important social, economic, organisational and political unit in Italy.”
The nuclear family is divided into: the father, the head of the family, who thinks he does all the work and decision-making; the mother, who in actual fact does all the hard work and takes all the important decisions; the sons, who are always spoilt and never really learn how to compete efficiently; and the daughters, who are never spoilt and as a result are far more capable than their brothers with whom they have to compete at a disadvantage from a very early age.
The extended family is a very large-scale social unit, including all possible relatives. It is seen at christenings, weddings, and funerals, and generally involves large numbers of people.
Family functions are occasions of enormous ostentation and generosity, where the pecking order of power and wealth in the family is carefully evaluated. An Italian will even go as far as to pretend to be seriously ill in order not to go to a second cousin’s wedding where he fears he might cut a brutta figura if he hasn’t enough money for an expensive present and a new suit.
“Family functions are occasions where the pecking order of power and wealth in the family is carefully evaluated.”
The Italian family is a highly sophisticated network of patronage and power held together by a complex system of exchanging presents and performing favours. Going against the wishes of the family is hard and in reality so difficult for most Italians that few are inclined to try.
Italian women are brilliant actresses. Although they are completely emancipated and behave exactly as they want, when and where they want, they go through life pretending that they are quiet and subservient and that Italian men rule the roost.
“Their men-folk have been so mollycoddled as children that they are able to do very little for themselves.”
It is really only an act, for Italian women rule the family. Italian girlfriends and wives know that image is important to their men, so they let them think they are big, macho, decision-makers. However, they also know that their men-folk have been so mollycoddled as children that they are able to do very little for themselves apart from looking good, drinking coffee, fathering children, and then playing with the children’s toys. Italian women know all this because they have always taken great care to pamper their male children, thereby rendering them almost completely dependent. The secret of power is handed on by one generation of Italian women to the next: faking subservience is a small price to pay for power in the family.
Italian males rarely leave the nest and, even when they do, these mammoni (Mummy’s boys) usually only move into the house across the road, or the flat next door. Statistics show that nearly 40% of Italians in their early thirties still live at home with their parents.
Behind every great Italian man there is a great Italian woman, sometimes his wife or his mistress, but usually his mother. The Italian male grows up thinking his mother is the Virgin Mary, and so naturally he thinks he is Jesus, or God’s gift to the world anyway, or to its womenfolk at least.
It is not surprising that Italian males find it very difficult to leave home. Their mothers make it hard for them to do so by making sure that their sons are so cosseted that they have no real wish to leave. Even when they are married, they continue to behave as if they aren’t, taking their clothes home at least once a week for their mother to wash and iron.
“The Italian male grows up thinking his mother is the Virgin Mary, and so naturally he thinks he is Jesus, or God’s gift to the world anyway.”
They end up treating home as a hotel, just like teenagers in northern European countries. Why give up a life of luxury and financial security with a woman who treats you as the Son of God for an uncertain future with a woman who might ask you do things around the house that you have never learnt to do, like making your bed or drying the dishes?
In fact young Italian males have no choice. Not only is there little tradition of living away from home during their student years, but it is unusual to find decent jobs until they are in their thirties. Furthermore, the absence of suitably priced accommodation makes it practically impossible for them to afford to move out. They find themselves caught in a trap; wanting to live on their own, but unable to leave the nest and under fire for not doing so. And the catch might not end there: these days a third of all Italian marriages end in divorce, in many cases because the wives feel unable to compete with the mothers of their mammoni.
“Italian children are allowed to be both seen and heard; in fact, they must be both seen and heard.”
Italian children are allowed to be both seen and heard; in fact, they must be both seen and heard, and be on show all the time, except, of course, between 2 and 5 p.m., when they should be having their afternoon nap. All Italian children take a siesta, which means they are not too tired to take part in the passeggiata, when all over Italy people begin moving into the empty streets, to see and be seen, after the sun has begun to lose its heat. Many Italians never lose the habit of taking an afternoon nap, which might explain why they and their children still seem to have boundless energy at midnight.
There is just one problem though: the number of bambini is on the decline. One explanation is the cost: designer baby clothes and foods can be a heavy burden on the family budget; another is that spending time with their children might cramp their parents’ social style. So children are dressed as miniature adults and exposed to most aspects of adult life. They are welcomed at restaurants and expected to be present at all family activities and functions. They grow up much faster than their northern European peers and at an early age develop the key skills necessary for ‘getting by’ and for performing on the great stage of life.
“Italian children at an early age develop the key skills necessary for ‘getting by’.”
Italians are on the whole wonderful with children, even with obstreperous and ugly ones. As the old Neapolitan saying runs, ‘Ogni scarafone è bello a mamma soja’ – ‘Every beetle is beautiful to its mother’.