A NOTE FROM THE TRANSLATOR

BY THE TIME she wrote Her Side of the Story (Dalla parte di lei), Alba de Céspedes was already an extremely successful writer, but she struggled with the ambitious novel she originally hoped to call Confessione di una donna, or Confessions of a Woman. She wanted to astonish the critics with her style—though not at the cost of diluting her message. For, as Melania Mazzucco points out in her introduction to the Italian edition, de Céspedes intended to act as the defender of women. Like Flaubert, she could say proudly of her protagonist: Alessandra, sono io, I am Alessandra.

The first Italian edition was published in August 1949. Later, finding the novel “too rich” and considering the American public “very simple,” de Céspedes rigorously edited the Italian text for the English-language translation by Frances Frenaye. There were then further cuts (by de Céspedes herself and several editors at different imprints) before the book finally appeared in 1952, in shortened form, under the title The Best of Husbands. In Italy, the original version was only superseded in 1994, when Mondadori published an edition that reflected the first edit De Cespedes had undertaken. It is that version, shorter than the original Italian edition, but much longer than Frenaye’s English translation, that is translated here for the first time.

The novel opens around 1939, although perhaps because very few dates appear, and because it is such an intensely personal narrative, it can be difficult to correlate the plot with historical events. In June 1940, under the fascist dictator Benito Mussolini, Italy joined the Second World War as one of the Axis powers allied with Germany. The war dominates the second half of the novel, and although Mussolini is never mentioned by name, the “arrogant voice” that is frequently heard on the radio is his.

During the first three years of the war, Italy was fighting alongside Germany and pursuing its own imperialistic ambitions in the Mediterranean and Africa. Following the Allied invasion of Sicily in July 1943, Rome came under attack, and the novel’s heroine and narrator, Alessandra, witnesses the aftermath of the Allied bombardment of July 19 that left horse carcasses littering the pavements of Rome’s San Lorenzo neighborhood. A few days later, Mussolini was arrested by order of King Victor Emmanuel III. Alessandra recalls, “Even though I was pleased not to be afraid anymore, I burst into tears, humiliated to think that the arrogant voice had truly been the voice of my time and my era.”

But the war was not over. In September 1943, Italy signed an Armistice with the Allies, and Germany occupied most of the north and center of the country. Italy then declared war on Germany, initiating what was in effect a civil war within Italy itself, much of it conducted by partisans against the German occupiers. Rome was finally liberated by American forces in June of 1944, and in April of 1945 Mussolini was killed by partisans. Italy’s long-awaited freedom was achieved, but the country had now fallen within the American sphere of influence, something to which de Céspedes, with her Cuban ancestry, reacted with anger and regret. Speaking of Italy’s new relationship with the United States, she protested, “I can’t … understand how a nation could reduce itself to being a branch of a supermarket.”

A FEW NOTES on terminology. Early in the novel, Lydia and the Captain meet in a latteria and later Tullio waits in a latteria for Alessandra and Tomaso. A latteria was a small neighborhood shop selling milk and other dairy products, and it also offered coffee and light meals. Although there is no direct equivalent, the nearest term in English would be a milk bar.

The word babbo is an alternative to papà, the latter essentially French in origin and much used in the north. Historically, the upper classes preferred to use papà while the rest of the population—particularly in Tuscany—preferred babbo. Both words are now widely used by children, with babbo being marginally more popular in the south.

As an Anglo-American, Hervey would more typically have spelled his name with an “a,” as Harvey. Hervey is actually the phonetic representation of the Italian pronunciation of Harvey, and for this edition the author’s original spelling has been preserved.

—Jill Foulston

London, March 2023