Allure and ambivalence of Sicily in “The call of the blood” by Robert Smythe Hichens

A special mention goes to Winckelmann, a German archaeologist and art historian who never visited Sicily but directed a host of scholars toward the appreciation of Greek and Roman traces in southern Italy. It is perhaps Winckelmann who brought about an epochal shift in German culture, presenting Greek art as having exemplary and normative value, yet simultaneously as an unrepeatable moment in human history, foreshadowing a romantic conception of history that acknowledges the unique value of all epochs.

Throughout the 19^th century and at the dawn of the 20^th century, the combination of a rich history, impressive landscapes, and a diverse culture attracted many visitors from Northern Europe, who often expressed wonder and interest in their descriptions of the island.

The late Romanticism context that we are mentioning advances ideological themes which, as we know, have matured within Romantic poetics. These themes have been the subject of numerous historical-literary studies, evoking the Romantic ideology of the distant, the exotic, the popular, the primitive, classical antiquity, and the cult of the authentic. Subsequently, intellectuals such as William von Gloeden and Robert Smythe Hichens will encapsulate all these elements in their works set in Sicily, evoking archaic Greece, Norman and Frederickian medieval periods, folklore, and Orientalism.

Many Northern Europeans were fascinated by Sicily’s millennia-long history, a crossroads of civilizations that had seen Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, Arabs, Normans, and Spaniards pass through. This multicultural and intercultural mix was reflected in the monuments, architecture, and local traditions. Intellectuals and travelers frequently highlighted the beauty of the Greek temples in Agrigento, the Byzantine mosaics of Monreale and Palermo, and the Arab influences in the architectural structures.

Moreover, Sicily offered a variety of natural landscapes, from rugged coasts and golden beaches to inland hills covered with citrus groves and vineyards, up to the imposing Mount Etna. Northern European travelers were struck by the intensity of the colors and the contrasts between the different areas of the island. They often described Sicily as a place of extraordinary natural beauty, contrasting with the more temperate and less dramatic landscapes of their home countries.

Northern European observers also noted the profound social and economic disparities present on the island. Sicily was characterized by a predominantly agricultural economy, with large estates controlled by a few landowners and a mass of peasants living in extreme poverty (Goethe, 1816)[2]. Travelers frequently commented on the harsh living conditions in rural areas and the lack of modern infrastructure, comparing these situations with the economic and technological progress of their own countries (J.W. Goethe, 1816; H. Swinburne, 1790; E. Lear, 1852; S. Butler, 1888) [3].

In summary, at the beginning of the 20^th century, Sicily represented to Northern Europeans a land of contrasts and extraordinary beauty, where rich cultural and historical heritage blended with a varied and fascinating natural landscape. The island’s social and economic conditions offered points of reflection and comparison, making Sicily a place of great interest for Northern European travelers, intellectuals, and artists. The novel we will discuss in this paper is set within this context, attempting to substantiate this perspective—that of the great attraction but also the suspicion demonstrated by European culture towards Sicily.

The Call of the Blood is an English novel from 1905 set in Sicily, offering a captivating portrait of the island, oscillating between attraction on one hand and repulsion on the other from the Northern European perspective towards a culture perceived as backward and a people considered savage. Sicily, with its vestiges of Western Greece and breathtaking landscapes, serves as an exotic and mysterious backdrop, fascinating yet simultaneously arousing suspicion among the English protagonists of our novel. This dual sentiment is strongly influenced by the colonialist and orientalist theories prevalent at the time, which depicted Mediterranean peoples as exotic and primitive.

Orientalism, as theorized by Edward Said (Said E. W, 1978) [4], manifests in the descriptions of Sicily and its inhabitants, often represented through stereotypes that emphasize their difference from British standards. Sicilian culture is described as a world frozen in time, characterized by archaic practices and a worldview that appears at odds with Western progress and modernity. This approach not only fuels a sense of colonial superiority but also serves to justify the interest and intervention of the British in what they perceive as a land to be civilized.

At the same time, Sicily’s natural beauty and rich history offer an irresistible attraction for the novel’s characters, who find in this island a place of adventure and discovery, not only of the landscape but also of their psycho-social selves. The vestiges of the past and the picturesque landscape fuel a romantic and nostalgic vision, contrasted with the modern and industrial life of Great Britain.

The author of our novel, Robert Smythe Hichens, was a British writer active between the 19^th and 20^th centuries, known for his prolific and varied works. Born in 1864 and died in 1950, Hichens was active in a literary period characterized by the vibrant cultural scene in London and intellectual circles that included figures like Oscar Wilde. He became famous for his ability to write in various genres, ranging from fiction to poetry, theater, and journalism (R. S. Hichens, 1947) [5].

His notoriety, however, was often overshadowed by his complex and troubled personality. One of the most intriguing aspects of his life concerns the hypotheses about his sexual orientation. Many contemporary critics and literary historians have explored Hichens’ possible homosexual inclinations, hypotheses based partly on his association with circles like that of Oscar Wilde, of whom he was reportedly also an accuser in the trial that took place in Great Britain, as well as his own enigmatic personality and the intense relationships he had with other men (N. Freeman, 2019)[6].

The circles frequented by Hichens were known for being meeting places for intellectuals, artists, and figures of London society during the Victorian and Edwardian eras, often reflecting a more open mentality compared to the rigid social conventions of the time, attracting people with unconventional interests and perspectives.

Additionally, Hichens visited and chose Taormina as his residence for several years, a destination loved by European and American intellectuals, fascinated by the classical beauty of the ruins of Western Greece and the erotic suggestions inspired by Mediterranean, Middle Eastern, and Arab influences.

A restless spirit, Hichens mingled with both the circle of resident foreigners and the local population, towards whom he harbored a keen curiosity. He was a keen observer of Sicilian traditions and customs, particularly those of shepherds, peasants, and fishermen, similar to the German baron von Gloeden, who had been living in Taormina for several decades and who photographed these people, while Hichens portrayed them in his writings with originality and insight.

His novel The Call of the Blood is a story that mixes elements of passion, mystery, spontaneity, fidelity, violence, and jealousy set in an exotic and symbol-laden landscape. It recounts the vicissitudes of two English spouses, Maurice and Hermione, who arrive in Taormina (disguised in the novel under the name Marechiaro), in Sicily, a place that, as we have already seen, evokes a sense of classical antiquity and mystery. The village, with its rocky landscape and sea view, serves as an ideal backdrop to explore the characters’ internal conflicts, particularly those of Maurice, a young Englishman with Sicilian origins (from his grandmother) and a dangerous attraction identified in the call of the blood towards culturally Oriental emotions and sentiments, perceived by the foreign gaze as “Sicilian”.

Gaspare and Lucrezia are the two local servants of the English couple in Taormina who play a significant role in the story. Gaspare, in particular, develops a deep bond with Maurice, encapsulating the complexity of his feelings and desires. Their relationship becomes symbolic of the protagonist’s connection to the local culture and the influence of the environment on Maurice’s psyche. We can see this from their first encounter during the tarantella. This traditional southern Italian dance, with which the English couple is welcomed upon their arrival at the villa, appears in the novel as an expression of passion and liberation. The music and rhythm of the tarantella serve not only to create a vivid atmosphere but also to underscore Maurice’s internal conflicts:

«He [Maurice] was watching Gaspare, fascinated, completely under the spell of the dance. The blood was beginning to boil in his veins, warm blood of the south that he had never before felt in his body. Artois had spoken to Hermione of “the call of the blood”. Maurice began to hear it now, to long to obey it. Gaspare clapped his hands alternately in front of him and behind him, leaping from side to side, with a step in which one foot crossed over the other, and holding his body slightly curved inward. And all the time he kept his eyes on Delarey, and the wily, merry invitation grew stronger in them. “Venga!” he whispered, always dancing. “Venga, signorino, venga – venga!. He spun round, clapped his hands furiously, snapped his fingers, and jumped back. Then he held out his hands to Delarey, with a gay authority that was irresistible. “Venga, venga, signorino! Venga, venga!”».

«All the blood in Delarey responded, chasing away something – was it a shyness, a self-consciousness of love – that till now had held him back from the gratification of his desire? He sprang up and he danced the tarantella, danced it almost as if he had danced it all his life, with a natural grace, a frolicsome abandon that no pure-blooded Englishman could ever achieve, danced it as perhaps once the Sicilian grandmother had danced it under the shadow of Etna. Whatever Gaspare did he imitated, with a swiftness and a certainty that were amazing, and Gaspare, intoxicated by having such a pupil, outdid himself in countless changing activities. It was like a game and like a duel, for Gaspare presently began almost to fight for his supremacy as he watched Delarey’s starling aptitude in the tarantella, which till this moment, he had considered the possession of those born in Sicily and of Sicilian blood».

The friendship between Gaspare and Maurice is a crucial element of the novel, as Gaspare is not merely a servant but also becomes a confidant and a figure who intuitively understands the protagonist. Their relationship demonstrates a form of mutual understanding and support, despite differences in social and cultural positions.

However, this idyllic aesthetic, this attraction of the protagonist to the allure of wildness and the primordial call he perceives in Sicilian culture, contrasts with the inner turmoil that adds depth to the narrative. It highlights the complexities generated by feelings of attraction and exhilaration on one hand, and repulsion on the other. The theme of the “call of the blood” in the novel is not limited to mere physical attraction (a sentiment Maurice harbors towards the fisherman’s daughter, Maddalena, unbeknownst to his wife Hermione, who is traveling to Africa). It extends to a deeper desire to explore and understand his own identity through his origins, which, as previously mentioned, we discover to be Sicilian through a conversation between Hermione and her friend and confidant Artois:

«Maurice’s mother is very handsome, not at all intellectual, but fascinating. The Southern blood comes from her side.
Oh – how?
Her mother was a Sicilian.
Of the aristocracy, or of the people?
She was a lovely Contadina […]»

Maurice is continuously drawn to the idea of the freedom that he can only find by embracing his wilder, more animalistic side, surrendering to betrayal despite the constraints imposed by social and moral conventions. This conflict between desire and moral responsibility is the novel’s beating heart, offering a reflection on the eternal struggle between the inner self and external expectations. The call and attraction of his inner nature, which Maurice cannot help but constantly feel, seem to lead him toward situations and choices that he cannot ignore, which will ultimately prove dangerous (as his affair with the fisherman’s daughter will cost him his life at the hands of the latter).

This primordial and uncontrollable force, symbolized by the title, guides the characters’ actions, emerging repeatedly throughout the narrative. Indeed, “The Call of the Blood” refers to the novel’s central theme: the profound and irresistible influence of blood and origins that permeates the characters’ actions, interpersonal relationships, and inner conflicts.

This almost “animalistic”, uncontrollable, and irresistible attraction is accompanied by the repulsion that the English protagonists in the novel, embodying the Northern European perspective, feel towards the landscapes, characters, lifestyles, but also the economic conditions, work activities, and relationship with money. For example, Maddalena, the peasant girl whom Maurice falls for, is at times described as an animal—both naïve and cunning, to be hunted like a wild and available prey. Maurice uses every means to achieve his goal, such as bribing the father with money, deceiving the girl with flattery, and enlisting Gaspare’s complicity to avoid any trouble.

It is true that Maurice is strongly attracted to “Sicilianity”, justified by the device of his grandmother’s blood and the tarantella (“The tarantella – that was the dance of the soil here, the dance of the blood”). However, it is also true that he has a poor opinion of Maddalena’s father, Salvatore. The latter pretends not to understand that Maurice is courting his daughter, precisely to maintain a false friendship with him in order to gain the money and gifts that Maurice regularly offers to keep him at bay.

«He [Salvatore] talked to Maurice with a loud familiarity, kept laying his hand on Maurice’s arm as they walked, and even called him, with a half-jocose intonation, “compare”. Maurice sickened at his impertinence, but was obliged to endure it with patience, and this act of patience brought to the birth within him a sudden, fierce longing for revenge, a longing to pay Salvatore out for his grossness, his greed, his sly and leering affectation of playing the slave when he was really indicating to his compatriots that he considered himself the master. Again Maurice heard the call of the Sicilian blood within him, but this time it did not call him to the tarantella or to love. It called him to strike a blow».

Similarly, Maurice does not fully appreciate his friend and companion Gaspare, despite feeling a certain fondness for him. He considers him backward, a savage.

Hermione, on her part, views Sicilian women as submissive, objects for men, taking for granted cultural characteristics that were very clear to the English reader. Lucrezia, taken as the stereotype of the female figure in the Sicilian world, speaks about the self-perception of women and their attitude towards men:

«“Men are not like us”, she added. “They tell us whatever they please, and do always whatever they like. We must sit in the doorway and keep our back to the street for fear a man should smile at us, and they can stay out all night, and come back in the morning, and say they’ve been fishing at Isola Bella, or sleeping out to guard the vines, and we’ve got to say, “Si, Salvatore!” or “Si, Guido!” when we know very well».

These recurring themes fit perfectly within an orientalist framework, where places and characters are embedded in a complex mosaic of human passions, local traditions, and mythical allure.

Orientalism in the novel manifests through the depiction of Sicily as a place of exotic charm and mystery, where cultural and historical elements intertwine in a complex web of suggestions, and where the external beauty blends with the inner turmoil of its characters, creating a work that reflects the contradictions and dilemmas of humanity within a specific historical and cultural context.

For instance, the priest’s house, where the two protagonists and their two servants lodge, represents a place of contrasts and secrets, with interiors characterized by antique furniture and a terrace overlooking the breathtaking views of the Mediterranean, much like the winding path that leads to the house, typical of Mediterranean lands. The cottage (so called, betraying the nature of Sicilian rural lodgings) is an idyllic refuge but also a place laden with intrigues and passions. Here, thoughts of betrayal and deception develop, while sincere friendships contrast with the reticent modesty of the characters, highlighting the complex interpersonal dynamics.

The Island of the Sirens also embodies a mythological and fairy-tale atmosphere. Its name evokes suggestions of allure and dangers. Inhabited by the fisherman Salvatore and his daughter Maddalena, the girl for whom Maurice will betray his wife Hermione, it is an isolated place that represents an antithesis to the earthly world, as well as the backdrop for human conflicts and typically Sicilian representations. The first time Maurice encounters Maddalena, she is depicted in the form of a siren, whose appearance is an evident sign of destiny for the young Englishman, as well as the mythological dimension in which he begins to live a new adventure.

«That cry of a woman from the mystery of the rocks had startled, had fascinated his ears. Suddenly he remembered that he must be near to that Casa delle Sirene, whose little light he had seen from the terrace of the priest’s house on his first evening in Sicily. He longed to hear that woman’s voice again. For a moment he thought of it as the voice of a siren, of one of those beings of enchantment who lure men on to their destruction, and he listened eagerly, almost passionately, while the ruffled water eddied softly about his breast».

At the same time, Taormina is depicted as a picturesque city, with its dominant sanctuary and religious festivals that add a touch of tradition and spirituality to the narrative context. Detailed descriptions capture the essence of city life and its inhabitants, showing a combination of devotion and superstition, such as in the passages describing Salvatore’s bedroom surrounded by images of saints and devotional lamps. Similarly, there are scenes set along the path leading to the sanctuary of the Madonna della Rocca and inside the sanctuary itself, where Hermione, a Protestant, finds herself praying on her knees like Lucrezia, a Catholic.

The episode of the Fiera di San Felice serves as a melting pot of Sicilian behaviors and customs, holding great importance in the novel because all the main characters are excited to attend, particularly Gaspare, Maurice, and Maddalena. The fair features parades of Sicilian carts, folk music, games, and stalls, from which Maurice buys gifts for Maddalena.

«San Felice is a large village in the plain at the foot of Etna. It lies near the sea between Catania and Messina, but beyond the black and forbidding lava land. Its patron saint, Protettore di San Felice, is Sant’Onofrio, and this was his festival. In the large, old church in the square, which was the centre of the life of the fiera [...]»

At the fair, the writer references two streets in the town, Via del Polifemo and Via Bocca di Leone. Both are fictional, but the reference to classical Greece is one of many in the novel, and Via Bocca di Leone is a street in central Rome that Hichens surely knew. Additionally, the mayor of San Felice is Torloni, another fictional name likely derived from the mayor of Rome (1887), Duke Leopoldo Torlonia, whom Hichens had met through Tina Whitaker (R. Trevelyan, 2003)[7] .

While these descriptions captivate the Northern European taste, there is an implicit intention in the novel to assert British supremacy. In all likelihood, Hichens studied social evolutionists and positivism, believing that late 19^th and early 20^th century British civilization was the pinnacle of humanity, with Sicilians seen as a step behind and needing to be emancipated, much like colonial peoples.

The other English character in the novel, Hermione, exemplifies the colonial British attitude of helping the “savages” become civilized on two occasions. At the sanctuary of the Madonna della Rocca, she brings her maid Lucrezia. Hermione herself is surprised to be drawn into this mysticism of the Madonna who protects those who have gone to war, far away and disadvantaged. In her cultural horizon, she would never have asked the Madonna for a favor, yet she does so because she fears her husband might have suffered an accident, as he hasn’t returned home. Similarly, the maid prays for her fiancé who left to work in another city. Hermione doesn’t truly believe in the miracle, but she accompanies Lucrezia on a primitive yet hoped-to-be effective expiatory journey.

In the sequel to The Call of the Blood, A Spirit in Prison, written a few years later, Hichens narrates that after Maurice’s violent death, Hermione takes Gaspare out of Sicily to “civilize” him. The colonial concept of England always portrayed a sense of superiority over people who had yet to travel another path to become as civilized as the British, thus justifying colonization to accelerate this process. Once the desired result was achieved, colonization was no longer necessary, or so it was claimed.

However, any domestication was not dissociated from exploration. During the Edwardian period, the Grand Tour was a cultural and social phenomenon through which many British and Northern European intellectuals explored Southern Europe and the Mediterranean seeking enriching and culturally uplifting experiences, hoping to rediscover the classical past of their youth studies. Sicily, with its rich history of Greek, Roman, Byzantine, and Arab influences, a site of colonization and contamination that made it a fascinating laboratory of linguistic, cultural, political, and religious exchanges, with its strategic position in the Mediterranean, was an ideal place to satisfy the Orientalist expectations of the Northern European imagination: an external gaze on a society considered “backward”, “wild”, and potentially “to be tamed”, alluring the foreigner with its exotic atmospheres.

In our case, Hichens, through his novel, captures these peculiarities in Taormina, immersing himself in local traditions and popular beliefs, while suggesting to the reader the presence of tensions between the Northern European external gaze and the Sicilian internal gaze, which on one hand wanted to adapt and please the former, while on the other hand wanted to assert its true perception.

A form of cultural disemia, as anthropologist Michael Herzfeld (M. Herzfeld, 2003) [8] would assert, signifies a formal tension between how a culture self-represents and how it is depicted externally—a perverse mechanism involving both the production and use of stereotypes by external observers of the group in question, as well as stereotypes self-produced by the group itself.

After all, the issue of defining local identities has been at the center of anthropological interest since the mid-19^th century and throughout the first half of the 20^th century. Indeed, the elaboration of the concept of culture by generations of anthropologists formed the basis of a substantialist conception of identities—ethnic, national, religious, linguistic—as they were perceived. This concept was later marked by a new perspective in the late 20^th and early 21^st centuries, viewing culture and cultural identity as a process rather than substance, as construction rather than a static and immutable entity (C. Geertz, 1973; J. Clifford, 1988) [9].

The conception that emerges in our novel, published in 1905, aligns with the early substantialist view of cultural identity, set within a framework shaped by literature, photography, and cinema, all contributing to the “construction” of an identity narrated through pre-established stereotypes.

Hichens’s novel not only vividly paints a portrait of Sicily but also its people, representing local beliefs, prejudices, and superstitions with a critical yet empathetic eye. Religious festivals, the dominant sanctuary of Taormina, and daily interactions among characters provide a glimpse into the social and cultural life of the time, underscoring the nuances of Sicilian society and the complexity of individual identities.

The Call of the Blood by Robert Smythe Hichens distinguishes itself by exploring not only the aesthetic and cultural wonders of Sicily but also the dark and tumultuous depths of the human psyche. Through an intricate narrative rich in symbolism, the novel offers profound insights into existential dilemmas and the conflict between personal desire and social responsibility, remaining a significant testament to late Victorian orientalism and romanticism.

«The sun had bred in him not merely a passion for complete personal liberty, but for something more, for lawlessness» (R. S. Hichens, 1906) [10].

Dialoghi Mediterranei, n. 69, Settembre 2024

[*] Abstract 

Agli inizi del Novecento, la Sicilia era una meta ambita per viaggiatori e intellettuali nordeuropei, attratti dalla sua ricca storia e paesaggi affascinanti. La tradizione del Grand Tour aveva già stabilito un profondo interesse europeo per l’Isola, alimentato da figure illustri come Goethe, Winckelmann e altri, che pur non avendola visitata, ne esaltarono il valore artistico e archeologico. Il romanzo The Call of the Blood di Robert Smythe Hichens del 1905 riflette il dualismo di attrazione e repulsione, presentando la Sicilia come un luogo esotico e primitivo secondo le teorie orientaliste del tempo. La narrazione esplora la tensione tra il fascino esercitato dalla cultura siciliana e le preoccupazioni morali e sociali dei protagonisti inglesi. La bellezza naturale e la storia dell’isola offrono un contesto irresistibile, mentre le disparità socio-economiche e culturali suscitano riflessioni critiche nei viaggiatori. Il romanzo incarna il conflitto tra il desiderio di avventura e la presunta superiorità coloniale, sottolineando l’impatto delle origini e del paesaggio siciliano sulla psiche e le azioni dei personaggi.

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