Isabel Fonseca

Like is such a frivolous word for a history of the dispossessed. It was well written, and heart rending and fascinating. It made me ashamed. I did not like it, but I'm glad I read it.

Between 1991 and 1995, Isabel Fonseca visited East Central Europe many times and lived among families in the various gypsy communities of Romania, Albania, Poland, Bulgaria and neighboring countries. Fonseca is an anthropologist so she had a professional interest in exploring more deeply the history, customs and culture, the present conditions, and the future prospects of this group of people who are perhaps the least understood in the world today. Employing the usual rigorous methods of show more research during the process, however, does not reduce her subjects to mere objects of scholarship and observation, as her experience transforms her into a witness and a voice. She records stories, plenty of them, of various gypsy - or Roma- groups across these countries, seeking families and individuals who were willing to talk with her, to afford her a glimpse of their daily lives. She meets the poet, the politician, the academic, the self-proclaimed King, the child prostitute, among others and through vivid portrayals of these individuals we understand a little more about the immense challenges the gyspies face in every conceivable aspect of modern life.

The general outlines of the story of the Romas is well-known. Since their exodus from India 10 centuries ago, they have had a long and bitter history of persecution: enslaved by the nobility of medieval Romania, massacred by the Nazis, forcibly assimilated by the communist regimes, evicted by Eastern Europe nationalist mobs, and recently, increasingly rejected by Western European countries as well. It is striking to realise that the last four stages all occurred within the last century. It is not an exaggeration to say that the gypsies have remained the scapegoat that they've always been, it seemed, in history. The only difference between them and others who also stood as scapegoats, is that their story is untold because they are invisible (e.g. except as being objects of the Nazi experiments, their experience during the Holocaust is undocumented).

The gypsies evoke a strange mix of feelings and attitudes in general -- they are at once fabled, feared, romanticised, reviled and spurned. Shamefully for humankind, despite the so-called human progress claimed to have been achieved, being the Other remains a stigma. It does not help that the Romas are fiercely independent, highly traditionalistic, tightly-knit, prefering their nomadic way of life and keeping to ancient customs, stubbornly refusing to be straightjacketed by any modern system. Fonseca doesn't skirt around the uncomfortable issues, she mentions the conceptions and the prejudices that the non-gypsy has about the gypsies and clarifies with her experience but does not judge. She confirms, for example, that gypsies lie. They lie a lot -- not to each other, but to the gadje (non-gypsy), but this is not, for them, something of malice --- it is a telling of a story with embellishments, of crafting a story that the listener wants to hear, of inventing a story because he/she does NOT want the gadje to know as to know is tantamount to exposing their (the gypsies') true self. It is a means of defense, the survival of the group. Contrary to common perception of gypsies being free spirits and with no sense of order or moral compunction, their daily life is in fact strictly governed by a set of age-old customs and taboos that reinforce as well their highly developed community spirit: the gypsies live for the group, individuality is not recognized.

Fonseca paints the gypsies' rich life of traditions, family values, community well-being amidst wretched poverty, squalid conditions, and most worrying of all, the increasing hate crimes being committed against them in various parts of Europe. She mentions appalling events in Central and Eastern Europe, reminiscent of the medieval ages, shocking to the extreme such as burning people, razing villages. Western Europe, on the other hand, is driving back the many Romas who have crossed to their frontiers with the expansion of the EU zone -- but to drive back where, as nobody wants them.

There are some encouraging signs though and Fonseca concludes her fascinating account with mention of the extraordinary efforts being done by a small group of Roma intellectuals who fought for international recognition of the Romas, and whose movement continues to keep the awareness of the Romas, their gaping needs and means to address them, within the sights of EU policymakers specially in the context of the immigration issue.

Enlightening in many respects, this is also a narrative of a skilled story-teller. Highly recommended. show less

Vaclav Havel correctly says that how his country (and our world of communities) deal with people like the Rom was a litmus test for democracy. As so-called democracies take the place of tyrannical regimes ancient hatreds and jealousies erupt: how can they be managed? Fonescu's beautiful book takes an even handed look at the problem without trying to romanticize the Rom and without pulling punches. The violence in Europe, but especially in Romania has so little purchase in the popular mind, show more racism finds ways to justify itself even among people who consider themselves non-racist. show less

Ask yourself honestly: What do you know about gypsies? In my case, the answer was “Not a whole lot, really”. In a time when many parts of eastern Europe are adapting racist laws against this people, when actual pogroms and lynching are happening continuously without the perpetrators getting punished for it, it seemed high time to read this book, collecting dust on my shelf for over ten years now.

Fonseca, an American jewess, lived with gypsies in various countries for four years while show more writing this book, and it gives good basic insight to a culture and a people who remain kind of hidden in our midst. The gypsies have no promised land, no myths of a glorious past. They are unique as a people in that their nation is not a place (or even the dream of a place), but formed around moving, travelling on the fringes – even now when the vast majority are resident. Most gypsies live in poverty and oppression, but they are also fiercely resisting assimilation, having strict rules for how to interact with gadjo – non Gypsies.

I knew about the prejudice, hate and fear towards gypsies (indeed, I’ve often noted how even liberal and conscious people around me have occasionally made remarks about gypsies that they would never ever direct at jews or arabs or gay or any other minority), but a lot of what this book describes was still news to me. I was shocked to read about how the hundreds of thousands of gypsies killed in the Holocaust were disregarded for a long time. Only 1982 was the systematic killing of gypsies recognized as genocide, and they weren’t represented in the US Holocaust Memorial Council until 1986!

At the same time, it was difficult to read that some of the most common prejudices against gypsises – that they are stealing, and heaping junk around their homes – do have some truth to them. Both are part of traditional gypsy strategies to keep a distance towards gadjo.

Fonseca’s account is very personal and subjective, which is both good and bad. There are many memorable and moving characters here, among the many families she meets. But sometimes Fonseca’s view becomes slightly exotic and down the nose in a way that makes me wish for a more distant approach. Still, this is a book that makes me feel a little wiser. show less