Falling in Eden
By Giovanni Bonello
Published by Fondazzjoni Patrimonju Malti and Kite Group Ltd, 2024.
It has been 10 long years of expectant wait since the publication of the last volume of Giovanni Bonello’s Histories of Malta, not that we have been denied the results of his constant research and his witty, elegant, mischievous Midas pen thanks to his regular articles in this newspaper.
Falling in Eden is the first volume of a new series of stories; this time, however, the papers are presented linked by a theme and cannot be but sincerely welcomed. These papers have all been published previously but have now been revised and fully annotated.
And what a luscious volume it is. Beautifully designed and printed, it is a sheer pleasure to hold in one’s hands. It is a sure bestseller in the making and, if one were to go by what happened to the previous series, it will be a sought-after precious collectors’ item in a few years’ time.
However, I would like to remove a couple of pebbles from my sandals first. This is the first book I have experienced, and I have seen a few books, when the captions do not accompany the respective illustrations but are unhelpfully grouped at the end of the respective paper. Even here, increasing slightly the point size of the text of the endnotes or even just a bit more leading would make them more readable, especially for the older readers who must be the vast majority of those who will buy the book.
Moreover, the text is extremely cavalier with capitalisations, going against the trend in modern history writing. I could not fathom why, to point out one example, ‘Grand Master’ and ‘Inquisitor’ are invariably capitalised while the poor bishop is not. But then Gargallo was no angel, so perhaps he deserved all he got.
In 1588, the knight Andrea Ciambanio killed Cola Borg and was sentenced to five years’ imprisonment. There the story could have ended, had not a petition concerned with a murder investigation been fortuitously unearthed in the notarial archives, of all places. Armed with this new information, Bonello weaves up an entire narrative with full additional details.
One deeply researched contribution investigates lawyers and their profession before 1600. Bonello lists all those recorded men of laws, adding the few known details about them he has managed to glean.
Some distinguished themselves for their learning and competence; a few for their venality and pliability. One has even earned ever-lasting fame for being the first person recorded in Malta as eating a pizza way back in 1583; since he had chosen to eat it on a Saturday, he ended up reported to the Inquisition. One lawyer not only fathered the only Maltese to become a bishop during the Order’s time but also found time to keep three mistresses concurrently, two sisters and the daughter of one of them. Some were murdered while one was even accused of plotting to murder the grand master. This is an exceptional piece of research.
At a time when there was an incredible average of one case of homicide, attempted homicide, and grievous bodily harm a week, the murder of an oil merchant in his Vittoriosa home in 1636 might have been seen as just another inconsequential blip in the records. Yet it all ended in one of those almighty regular face-offs between the Order and the Church with the involvement of the Inquisition, with the parties arguing to preserve their respective jurisdiction.
The bloody murderer had sought sanctuary in a church from where he was enticed by the police to make his way out with the lure of an escape to his native Sicily. Outside the church he was duly nabbed… and all hell broke loose. The skein got further knotted with the inclusion of Palermo and Rome.
Another extensive contribution deals with mischievous books in the times of the Order. At a time when the ‘establishment’ took very seriously the protection of the general public from nefarious ideas, one exercised one’s personal beliefs at one’s peril. Books, those pernicious conveyors of orthodox ideas, were regularly burned and, as we all know, in the country where they burn books, they will eventually proceed to burn people. Owning books that purveyed heretical religious ideas, the concept that sex could be an enjoyable human activity, or even those that gave ‘wrong’ historical assessments could get one’s fingers burnt.
Seasoned thieves never let their religion come in their way even when stealing from churches. Even knights were not too preoccupied with their vow of poverty if some choice religious or ecclesiastical object took their fancy. Three particular such cases are treated.
It is a sure bestseller in the making and, if one were to go by what happened to the previous series, it will be a sought-after precious collectors’ item in a few years’ time
Another chilling contribution relates to slaves and their treatment. Slaves, being important economic assets, were generally well-treated but if they fell foul of the law, they could expect punishments as severe as any warped human mind could dream up. Reading about them is enough to send shivers down one’s spine.
A serendipitous discovery of a document has thrown early light on the presence in Malta of Caterina Scappi, the generous Sienese philanthropist but with a possible more than shady past. She appears as witness in a criminal court case in 1583-84, a full 13 years before the earliest mention hitherto known.
The other papers focus on similar activities under British rule.
While on his way to Britain, on June 27, 1868, the orphaned seven-year-old Prince Alamayou of Abyssinia was taken to the studio of Maltese pioneer photographer Leandro Preziosi for a photo shoot. The victim of yet another colonial war, the tragic prince died in his teens and, on the instructions of Queen Victoria, was buried in St George’s chapel in Windsor. Bonello tells the background story of how his father (a progenitor of Peter Ustinov) lost his kingdom, and his life, to the British army.
The oldest profession flourished liberally in Malta under the Knights and certainly grew more and became more organised under the British when the flesh of the huge number of single men passing through on naval and mercantile ships demanded its entertainment.
Two papers, formerly published as reviews of George Cini’s books on Strada Stretta in this very newspaper, deal with that particular legendary cosmos with its unique mix of characters that catered generously for all needs, wants, desires, requirements, and perversions. The British had perhaps wisely restricted the profession to a few easily controlled areas; today it has quietly stepped out of all bounds.
The British rule brought about many wide-ranging changes in local legal practice. One paper focuses on the changes of subsidiary legislation and its impact on the legal profession. Quite a number, inter alia, affected the new office of the crown attorney whose office consolidated a number of official posts.
Robert Langslow, the British national brought over to fill this office was no Moses. Langslow was regarded by contemporaries as “very eccentric”; A.V. Laferla declared that “a more improper person was never employed by any government”. Moved to Ceylon, Langslow did not change skin but rather honed his ability to upset the authorities.
Amnesties can be an excellent way to encourage whistleblowers to point out ringleaders. One paper discusses the use of amnesties by the British between 1817 and 1840, some of which were granted not for obvious reasons. In general, though, these offers rarely succeeded in drawing crafty mice out of their holes.
The last paper instances cases of homophobia in pre-1850 Malta. Male homosexuality was particularly frowned upon by state and Church. The records of the Order are quite well supplied with instances when its members were accused or found guilty of sodomy.
Indeed, the author notes that from the Order’s arrival on the island up to the end of the 16th century, “there is a veritable flood of persecutions against knights accused of homosexual practices”, with Italian knights being the most of the accused. The more fortunate ones were kicked out of the brotherhood; the less fortunate would be imprisoned; the unfortunate could be handed over to the state for appropriate punishment.
Even foreigners who came over to the island and locals were not exempt from the tendency. The ships of the Order were, as could be expected, a good breeding ground.
Transvestism was not an uncommon practice either. Even the parish priest of Siġġiewi ended up before the tribunal of the Inquisition for roaming the streets at night in female attire. The case of Dr James Barry, the principal medical officer of the British forces in Malta, was a particular cause célèbre.
And who would have thought of the condition of the Maltese historian Onorato Bres, teased out by Bonello’s eager inquisitive eyes.
Bonello’s book is a great read which leaves all its many readers asking for more, like Oliver Twist. It seems a second volume is not that far away.