(CNN) — Theresa Maggio first visited Sicily in 1973, when she was 20. She had grown up in New Jersey, and as the granddaughter of Sicilian immigrants, she wanted to see the region from which her family came.
(CNN) — Theresa Maggio first visited Sicily in 1973, when she was 20. She had grown up in New Jersey, and as the granddaughter of Sicilian immigrants, she wanted to see the region from which her family came.
Maggio was immediately entranced with the mountainous island off the southern point of Italy.
"I talked to a Sicilian woman who loves Sicily," says Maggio, "and she said, 'It's like the sickness of Africa. You always have to go back. It gets in your blood.'"
Maggio has been returning ever since. During one visit in 1986, an Italian fisherman took her to the Sicilian island Favignana, and introduced her to la mattanza — "the slaughter."
An ancient practice
The spring ritual dates back to ancient times: Fisherman trap giant bluefin tuna swimming through the Straits of Gibraltar to spawn in the Mediterranean. Then, in the span of one hectic, bloody free-for-all, they lift the thrashing tuna to the surface and kill them with sharpened spears.
Maggio was hooked.
"It's fascinating," she says. "You can never learn it all. There's so many parts to the mattanza — there's the mechanical parts, putting together the net; the ritual part, which fascinated me; the beauty of the island; the openness of the people.
"If you hang out in the piazza there, you get invited to parties, dances. Plus, I love Sicily. It was like translating a culture, and I knew no one had written (a book) about this in English."
So Maggio, a freelance journalist whose work has appeared in publications like The New York Times, decided to give it a try.
The result is the aptly titled "Mattanza: Love and Death in the Sea of Sicily" from Perseus Publishing, now on bookshelves. Part memoir, part history lesson, the book recounts Maggio's visits to Favignana for the fishing spectacle. She takes us from the Phoenician beginnings of the ritual to the current state of mattanza affairs.
And she also documents her personal experiences with the people of Sicily, how they ready for the event, and how the event shapes their lives.
Maggio, 47, says she has always been a storyteller. But this book is the first for the Columbia University School of Journalism graduate. For years she dangled it in front of publishing houses, but no one bit.
"It's such an esoteric topic," she says. "It was such a hard sell. What do you say? 'This is a book about killing bluefin?' They'd say, 'We're not interested.'"
A little sex, a little violence
Eventually, Perseus editor Amanda Cook found a draft of it buried in a box at the publishing company, "tucked it under her arm and ran with it," says Maggio.
Cook also had Maggio put it through some rewrites. For instance, Maggio added more flavor to the work by revealing what she calls a "seduction scene" involving her and a fisherman named Clemente.
"The original draft had originally ended with our conversation at table," admits Maggio. "Amanda said, 'Is that all that happened?' She said, 'Try (to reveal more). It was very embarrassing. But I did it.
"They also wanted more violence, so in the end they wanted more sex and violence," laughs Maggio.
But mostly, the book is a snapshot of Sicily, its people, and a timeworn tradition that still thrives in a new age.
"(The mattanza) will fold when there aren't enough fish to make a profit," says Maggio. "When will that happen? Who knows?"
