What turning point makes you decide to risk your life to bring about change?
Emma Mendes was a girl from an upper-class Venetian family; she led a comfortable life. She was the eldest daughter of one of the few professional couples in 1930s Venice and planned to become a lawyer like her mother. Then, in 1938, Fascist Italy passed racial laws discriminating against Jews, and her world changed dramatically. Her family's immediate reaction was to adjust and do whatever they could to keep as much of their lifestyle as possible. Emma's future prospects significantly changed. She could not continue her education, so she was apprenticed to a dressmaker.
In September 1943, Nazi Germany included Italian Jews in the Final Solution; the family must leave Venice to survive. Emma and her mother decide to join the Resistance. Their ability to keep calm and stay in control sees them through many tense moments. Emma unexpectedly meets a young Jewish man who will become her husband. When the Allied army reaches the Veneto region, the Mendes family returns to Venice, starts rebuilding their lives, and finds out who did not make it.
What turning point makes you decide to risk your life to bring about change?
Emma Mendes was a girl from an upper-class Venetian family; she led a comfortable life. She was the eldest daughter of one of the few professional couples in 1930s Venice and planned to become a lawyer like her mother. Then, in 1938, Fascist Italy passed racial laws discriminating against Jews, and her world changed dramatically. Her family's immediate reaction was to adjust and do whatever they could to keep as much of their lifestyle as possible. Emma's future prospects significantly changed. She could not continue her education, so she was apprenticed to a dressmaker.
In September 1943, Nazi Germany included Italian Jews in the Final Solution; the family must leave Venice to survive. Emma and her mother decide to join the Resistance. Their ability to keep calm and stay in control sees them through many tense moments. Emma unexpectedly meets a young Jewish man who will become her husband. When the Allied army reaches the Veneto region, the Mendes family returns to Venice, starts rebuilding their lives, and finds out who did not make it.
Introduction
Venice February 2014
Emma Mendes Sonnino’s four grandchildren were in Venice at the same time, she loved it and thought it was the best part of turning 90. It was not the exact date of her birthday; she had decided that her granddaughters should not miss school. School was too precious for her; at 90, she could still get emotional about being forced to leave her school by Mussolini’s racial laws 76 years earlier when she was 14. She decided to celebrate her birthday when school in the United Kingdom had half-term holidays.
Emma could make her presence felt by just being in the room, and she was never loud or flamboyant. Somebody who could show her approval – or disapproval – with a look but whose smile could light up the night and make you feel loved and supported; she was a woman of substance, not a woman of noise. Many people had helped organise a celebratory weekend with forty guests, but nobody made a big fuss about it. They knew it was not her style.
That Thursday afternoon, Emma was enjoying being in the same room as her four grandchildren; they were all doing their own thing. Roy, her eldest grandson and his partner were working, Jonathan, 25, was reading, and Yael and Lisa were looking at old travel magazines.
Her son walked into the room with the mail. He gave the letters to his mother, thinking they were just birthday cards from her many cousins scattered around the world. Her youngest grandchild, Lisa, looked at the letter Emma had opened and put it on the coffee table next to the armchair where she was sitting.
“Grandma, why are you invited to a ceremony for the seventieth anniversary of the liberation of Rome?”
Emma picked up the letter again, read it, and then turned to her granddaughter.
“Well, they say here that they want to celebrate the Italian Jews who fought in the resistance and are still alive.”
Roy, her eldest grandson, lifted his head from his laptop.
“Am I the only one who knows you were in the resistance? I can’t believe you never told them.”
Emma smiled; she gestured for her grandchildren to come closer and sit near her. Roy, his partner, and Jonathan sat on the floor, Yael and Lisa in the other two armchairs.
“I was not the only one in my family. It all started when my mother, your great-grandmother, found out she was pregnant with your aunt Mila eight years after the birth of her fifth child….”
Chapter 1
Venice September 1942
It was love at first sight when Gabriele and Rachele met one Friday night in 1920. Twenty-one years of marriage and five children later, they could still feel better just being next to each other. Walking together around Venice improved their mood; they could face everything together. The war, racial laws, the need to re-invent themselves professionally when they lost their jobs because they were Jewish, and being concerned about their children's future had not changed how they related to each other.
They had been walking in total silence for the past twenty minutes. Silence between them was never uncomfortable; they were trying to absorb what they had heard half an hour earlier. It was not early menopause; Rachele was expecting their sixth child. They had arranged to see their closest non-Jewish friends, Paolo and Sofia Mondani, for pre-dinner drinks. It was a mild September late afternoon, and the oppressive heat and humidity of the summer were long forgotten. When they reached the Rialto fish market, Rachele stopped, turned to her husband, and broke the silence.
“A child at our age with everything that is going on, what do you think?”
Gabriele took some time to organise his thoughts. He had not yet come to terms with the need to use different names for the hospital appointment. The racial laws prevented Rachele from seeing a non-Jewish doctor; it was not an emergency. The appointment was made under Sofia Taiman Mondani instead of Rachele Modiano Mendes. At that moment, he was just enjoying being next to his wife. The only thing on his mind was that twenty- two years earlier, he got lost in the green of her eyes, and he could still get lost in the green of her eyes.
“I am excited and angry at the same time; excited because of the new life we have created, angry because we had to see a friend of Paolo’s at the hospital who knew very well who we were but kept calling us Paolo and Sofia. However, when I stop thinking of those things, I am excited and worried about you.”
At that moment, Rachele was more worried over the lingering smell of fish that was playing dirty tricks on her stomach. She put her arm around Gabriele’s and pulled him towards their friends’ home.
***
They had waited until after dinner to tell the rest of the family, and the general excitement had delayed everybody’s bedtime. Rachele could not sleep. She did not want to wake up her husband. She quietly got up and walked to the kitchen, making as little noise as possible, hoping a hot drink would help her fall asleep. They kept mint on the kitchen windowsill; mint tea was infinitely better than any coffee or tea surrogate they had tried in the past. Somehow she was not surprised when Anita joined her. Anita was their live-in housekeeper and her most loyal friend and confidante. The third most important adult in their household, the woman their children loved and called ‘aunt.’ They had shared a hot drink in the kitchen and their concerns several times in the middle of the night. Anita asked Rachele why she could not sleep. Usually, Rachele was not very talkative, but that night was different.
“I am fed up. Today was the final straw. I had to pretend I was Sofia. The doctor knew I was not, but he also had to pretend. I want to use this time to think about what I can do to change things, whatever contribution I can make to end this mess, so I can start when the baby is eight months.”
Anita had not heard such fighting talk before; she did not know what to say. Rachele continued
“I have had enough. We have been trying to adjust for four years. First, our children could not go to school with non-Jewish children, then we lost our jobs and had to invent another way of making a living, then we had to protect our home. By the way, I am eternally grateful for your help. I won’t do anything now, but I will take this time to figure out what I can do.”
Anita nodded. They both drank their mint tea, sighed, and spent some time in silence, then Rachele stood up.
“Good night Anita; thank you for listening. You and Gabriele are my rocks. I think I’ll try to catch some sleep now.”
Venice November 1942
Alvise Cantoni and Gabriele Mendes had been friends for a long time. When Alvise met Rachele, one of the few women to practice law in the Kingdom of Italy, they bonded immediately over their shared professional interests. They began working together when they lost their jobs due to racial laws. Rachele’s law firm had found a way to make use of them. They were preparing cases and checking legal documents. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Alvise and Rachele could still earn money; the law firm used two experienced lawyers as glorified legal secretaries. They were getting their experience at a considerably lower cost. When war broke out, their workload increased. With most young men in the armed forces, Alvise and Rachele did all the work except discussing cases in court or publicly meeting clients. They were working independently but occasionally met to discuss cases. That morning Alvise noticed that Rachele was very annoyed.
“When I was expecting Davide, this was the time I stopped accepting new cases. I did not want to leave anything unresolved before I had the baby. Now there is nothing to leave unresolved. We are doing the boring part of our job. I miss dealing with clients; I miss being in court. I am fed up. Once this baby is eight months old, I need to start doing something to change all this.”
“Well, talk to me when you are ready. I might know somebody who is in a position to help.”
Rachele smiled at Alvise’s caution.
“Great, because at the moment, I even miss being mistaken for my secretary.”
Venice, February 1943
Venice Jewish schools did not go any further than middle school, and Emma and Anna did not want to stay with their uncle in Milan or their mother’s cousin in Geneva to continue their education. They had taken a few days off work to help sort out the nursery. Emma worked for one of her father’s clients, Mrs Toffolo; she had just been promoted from apprentice to junior seamstress. Anna was learning to be a master baker. They had been cleaning the small room next to their parents’ bedroom for a while when Anita appeared with mint tea and some biscuits made by Rachele the previous day. She was all dressed up; the two young women started teasing their honorary aunt. They noticed Anita’s face and stopped. Anna was the first to ask what was wrong. Anita did not usually share “grown-up problems” with the children, but Emma and Anna were nineteen and seventeen, old enough to understand.
“Usually, I try to forget the war, those stupid laws, and everything else and just think of what needs to be done on the day. Today what I have to do reminds me of what I usually try very hard to forget.”
Emma stopped emptying a chest of drawers, turned back, took one of the small plates from the tray, and started putting biscuits on it.
“Where are you going?”
“ I meet the court officer who has to agree to my guardianship of the unborn baby, who will be delivered by a woman that does not wish to be named but whose identity is guaranteed by Giorgio Falier. To maintain client confidentiality, he will be at the hospital during birth to confirm that the baby in question is the one for whom I have guardianship.”
Anita also told them that she was trying not to discuss it with their mother; she was sure Rachele knew all about it, but she was due two weeks later, and she needed to be as calm and relaxed as possible, given the circumstances.
Venice, March 1943
Rachele had already given birth to five children. She knew what to expect and was not keen to go to the hospital. However, this time, the doctor kept mentioning her age and possible complications for her and the baby. The Jewish midwife who saw her every week thought that the baby might be in an awkward position. She agreed with the doctor. In the end, Rachele was convinced, but the ruse they had to put in place for her to go to the hospital made her even more determined to be a proactive agent of change as soon as possible.
She hated the ‘confidential’ arrangement generally used by women who wanted to hide that they had a baby. In her case, hiding her identity was a way to protect her and the doctor. A non-Jewish doctor could not treat her, and her hospital admission was not due to an emergency. They were in clear breach of the racial laws. She hated that Gabriele could not visit her or be in the waiting room. Giorgio Falier was there to confirm that the baby born from Rachele was the one mentioned in Anita's guardianship papers; Anita was there as well.
In the end, everything went smoothly, and a baby girl was born. They called her Mila, and the court gave her a last name until somebody filed adoption papers. Gabriele had to stay away to keep up with the “mother who does not wish to be named” story. Officially, Anita had come to take the baby away; nobody pointed out that she had left the hospital with Rachele. Too many people were aware that she was a friend of Doctor Paolo Mondani.
***
Gabriele’s youngest brother, Roberto, was helping Emma make sure that the nursery was ready for the new baby; Emma was nineteen years older than her new sibling. She always considered Roberto as an older brother more than an uncle. In her eyes, he had always been considerably younger than the “other grown-ups.” She could not hide her frustration from him.
“I am fed up with adjusting; I am fed up with just surviving, hoping that the war will end and those stupid laws will not exist anymore. I wish I could do something; we should all be doing something.”
Roberto was smiling inwardly; he was not ready to tell his niece that he was indeed “doing something.”
Emma could not stop venting her frustration.
“I remember how different things were when Davide was born. The Modiano grandparents came from Trieste. They did not need permission from any authority; they just bought the ticket and came. It was not secretive at all. Now my youngest sister does not even have my last name. Also, I should be studying hard for my “esame di maturita’,, “[1] looking forward to studying law at the University and becoming a lawyer like my mother. Because of all those stupid laws, I must be grateful to work at Mrs Toffolo to make clothes for ladies who are not supposed to know I am Jewish. Uncle Roberto, I have really had enough.”
Emma’s uncle was surprised by her outburst. He lifted his head from the cot he was cleaning,
“I thought you liked working with materials; I remember fondly your spending hours in the family warehouse gently caressing those rolls of printed silk.”
Emma stopped putting the baby’s clothes away; she put down the tiny shirts she was holding, put her hands on her hips and assumed a very determined and confident pose.
“I love it, but I also love reading and studying. Mum loves baking, but she practices law; I thought I would practice law and work with materials as a hobby. I may not end up studying law, but I want to do something to change where the country is going. Will you help me?”
“Well, I know somebody who could help. Let’s leave it for a while; think about it for three months. If you still want to do something by the end of June, I’ll talk to my friends.”
“His friends” were none other than himself, Emma’s honorary uncle Paolo Mondani, his daughter-in-law Carolina Rinaldi Mondani, and Alvise Cantoni, her mother’s unofficial business partner and her father’s close friend. Roberto was just not prepared to share that with his niece yet.
[1] This is the name of the exam at the end of the Italian high school; a pass would allow the student to attend University. According to Mussolini’s racial laws, Jewish students could only finish high school in Milan or Rome and attend University abroad.
Cover: Pretty! I really like it.
The premise intrigued me from the get-go, and yes, the story itself is engaging. Reading about a family’s struggle to survive amid the chaos of a lost war, while the fascist regime crumbles under everyone’s eyes, feels like a punch in the gut. Just what I’d expect from a book featuring a Jewish family during WWII. The story itself is vivid, captivating, and with some poignant moments.
Rachele is the real main character here. Her intelligence and wits help her first with her job—she’s a lawyer—and then with the escape plan. I also appreciate the cast of characters that support her, as it's plain they’ve been crafted with care. Each of them is vibrant, even at the beginning of their arc. I am not going to add more about the plot :) I always avoid mentioning plot points in order to avoid accidental spoilers :)
The dual timeline is a well-established narrative device, and Stagni uses it to introduce the Mendes-Modiano nicely enough, while the point of view is third and omniscient. A risky choice, but it’s done in a smart way, paying attention to the rhythm of the story. Grammar and syntax appear to be technically sound, and the punctuation checks out.
The dialogues in The Dressmaker's Parcels are not my favorite aspect. They read too clunky, often bordering on monologues, and therefore they don’t sound so realistic; the author indicated it was a matter of style, though, so I'll just call it a personal preference.
4,5 stars on GR.