As I receive reader feedback, I am hearing that book clubs are reading My Cousin the Saint. That’s wonderful! To help with the discussion that is the heart and soul of every book club (until it veers off into good friends catching up with each other’s lives!), here is a set of questions to consider:

1.      How would you describe southern Italy at the turn of the 20^th century? How did Catanoso’s description of the land, the long history and the people surprise you? What role did those conditions play in the “great wave” of Italian immigration to America between 1880 and 1920?

2.      The central characters in Part I are cousins Gaetano Catanoso, the eventual saint, and Carmelo Catanoso, the author’s grandfather. How does the tenor of the times influence both men as they pursue their own profound, interior callings?

3.      My Cousin the Saint is divided into three parts – Faith, Family and Miracles. Each part begins with a short miracle story. How do those miracle stories set the tone for the chapters to follow in each part?

4.      Why does the Catholic Church, which has been doing so for 2,000 years, name saints? What is your reaction to the intricate, complex nature of this process?

5.      Pope John Paul II is still criticized by some for naming so many saints. This point is addressed in the book. Do you believe the criticism is fair?

6.      If you learned you had a saint in the family, someone whom the Vatican declares has actual miraculous powers, what would you pray for?

7.      Did reading this book temper your views on the Catholic Church or Catholicism?

8.      A central theme of Part I is America as a land of opportunity, and of biases and prejudices against recent immigrants. How does this story illuminate the current controversy over legal and illegal immigration?

9.      Catanoso, a lapsed Catholic, returns to church following the canonization of his relative and eventually comes to see that being lapsed, skeptical and doubtful is far more common in the church than he imagined. How does this story prompt you to reflect on your own faith or lack thereof?

10.  Catanoso goes off in search and faith and finds his family – scores of them in another country, most of whom don’t even speak English. It was almost as if they had been expecting him for 100 years. How much do you know about your own family history? If you connected with long-lost relatives in another place or country, what would expectations be? Is this something you would like to do?

Enjoy the discussion!

The Italian Tribune, published in Montclair, N.J., and which bills itself as “the premier Italian American weekly since 1931, reviews “My Cousin the Saint” in the Sept. 4 issue, page 25. The review is not online, but here’s an excerpt:

“Justin Catanoso’s remarkable journey comes to light for all in “My Cousin the Saint.” It chronicles a search in family history that is literally amazing, unique and undeniably interesting. Catanoso calls his book “A Search for Faithy, Family, and Miracles,” and it can safely be said that all three elements were found during his journey and chronicled elegantly in his book.”

Once again, October will be declared National Italian American Heritage Month. No sense in waiting until the last minute to plan your celebrations! Details here.

With the possible exception of St. Francis of Assisi, Padre Pio likely ranks as Italy’s most popular saint. He’s surely popular in America, too, as this blog post details. He’s even popular in Reggio Calabria, home of my cousin the saint, Padre Gaetano Catanoso.

There is a lot of lure and legend and mysticism connected with this southern Italian priest (1887-1968), who famously bore the stigmata much of his adult life. Some of his powers, quite frankly, are beyond belief. The Vatican was highly skeptical of him in the 1920s, when his fame first rose (as I discuss in my book). But Pope John Paul II believed in Pio intrinsically, and revered him in life and death.

According to a web site about him: “As Padre Pio’s fame grew, his ministry began to take the center-stage at the friary. Many pilgrims flocked to see him [including Padre Gaetano in 1922, as I write in my book] and he spent around nineteen hours each day saying Mass, hearing confessions and corresponding, often sleeping not even two hours per day. His fame had the negative side effect that accusations against him made their way to the Holy Office in Rome (since 1983, known as the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith, causing many restrictions to be placed on him. His accusers included high-ranking archbishops, bishops, theologians and physicians.”

On this day two summers ago, I met my great Aunt Maria Portzia Catanoso, in a manner of speaking. She was my grandfather’s sister, the only member of his family to not emigrate to the United States in the early 1900s. She stayed behind in the village where she and her two brothers were born, Chorio. That remote mountain village is also the birthplace of their cousin, Gaetano Catanoso, who became a saint.

On June 18, 2006, I traveled up to the cemetery on a hot day with my cousin Daniela and my friend and translator Germaine. Daniela was leaving flowers on the above-ground grave of her mother, Pina, who had died the previous fall. I was stunned by what I saw. Catanosos on nearly every row of place, dating back years and years. Presumably all relatives in some form or fashion, but lives lost to me forever because of immigration divide. So much unknown history. My heart ached for this knowledge.

This cemetery, high on a hill in the Aspromonte, surrounded by fig trees and olive groves, is a fascinating and peaceful place. Land is too scarce and the soil too rocky to bury anyone. Instead, the departed are stacked in these vaults. I knew my great Aunt Maria was there somewhere, and I wandered the rows until at last I found her. I was years late, of course. She’s been gone for 50 years. But my Uncle Tony, in one of my favorite stories in my book, found his Aunt Maria in Chorio during World War II. It took remarkable luck to find her and meet her. But he doesn’t look at it that way. He calls it a miracle. The first miracle of a future saint.

“Did you know Italian Americans are not mentioned in the history books? That’s right; the history books used in California schools from the kindergarten through the University level do not mention us,” an Italian-American blogger notes. “Not even a footnote.” A solution has been proposed in the California legislature.

Frank Stasio, host of The State of Things (WUNC, 91.5 FM), is not only a second-generation Italian-American, he is also a diligently recovering Catholic. No wonder we had so much fun talking today on the program. A sound file of our interview is online.