Why are you wearing a pepper?
One of the reasons for this blog is to dispel many of the Italian and Italian-American myths. It is troubling to me, therefore, when I fulfill some of the more common or even more crass stereotypes. Yes, I talk with my hands, and I have been known to greet someone with a “Hey, how ya’ doin,” although not as suggestively as Joey Tribbiani. What can I say? Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Another stereotype is the harry chested, Italian-American male walking around with his shirt open to display a profusion of gold chains with charms. I try to avoid being this character. When I am in public, I try to make sure that my shirt is appropriately buttoned. However, I wear a cornicello, which is silver, not gold. So, does that count? I am not sure.
On more than one occasion, a medagon has asked me why I am wearing a pepper. Sometimes, to avoid a lengthy explanation, I will simply say I like spicy food. The truth is that the cornicello is a bull’s horn, not a pepper, whose use began as far back as the Neolithic period, roughly 3500 B.C.E. A clear phallic symbol, it is primarily a representation of male virility. Frequently, you will see a cornicello made of oxblood coral associated with Venus, the Goddess of Love. A silver cornicello is associated with the moon since silver is sacred to Luna, the Goddess of the moon. Being born in July, some would consider me a moonchild, so a sliver charm seems the more appropriate of the two.
You will also see them hanging from the rearview mirrors of cars; this grew out of the custom of protecting horses with the cornicello. I used to have one hanging in my car, right next to a cross. (What was that I was saying about being a stereotype?) Unfortunately, an accident totaled the car. I guess the cornicello was defective.
Despite the charm being primarily masculine, you will also see it worn by nursing mothers, babies, fruit trees, and milk animals since it protects against the molocchio, evil eye. The molocchio can be traced back to the 6th century Greeks. Initially, the molocchio was a curse cast by a malevolent glare that brings about such misfortunes as impotence, the withering of fruit trees, or the drying up of a nursing mother’s milk. Today, those who still have faith in the power of the evil eye believe that the person who casts the curse need not be physically present. Part of the motivation behind the secretiveness of Italian families is a concern the envy of others will lead them to cast the Molocchio.
Before you laugh at Italians and Italian-Americans for believing in such superstitions, remember we are a very Roman Catholic culture. This culture includes the wearing of scapulars. Originally the scapular was a monastic rode, made of two pieces of cloth joined at the shoulders hanging down to the feet. It was meant to remind the wearer of the yoke of Christ. Eventually, this robe evolved into two small patches of wool with a prayer or image of a saint embroidered on them, and they were worn as a neckless directly on the skin.
A popular scapular is the Brown Scapular. In 1251, Our Lady of Mount Carmel appeared to Saint Simon, minister general of the Carmelite order, during the 13th century. She gave him the Brown Scapular promising anyone who died wearing it would not suffer the fires of hell. So, the next time you head out to Vegas for the weekend, make sure you wear your Brown Scapular until you can make it back to confession. (Don’t do that. I am only joking. I don’t want to go to hell because someone tried this.) If a bit of cloth can save you from the fires of hell, is it that much more of a stretch to think that a gold charm will protect you from a neighbor’s curse?
Yes, I wear a cornicello. Mainly I wear it as a daily reminder of my Italian-American heritage. So, the next time you see someone wearing what appears to be a pepper from his neck, ask him; hey, how ya doin.
For more on Italian and Italian-American culture, read my book Italianità, The Essence of Being Italian.