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I Met Lucky People: The Story of the Romani Gypsies by Yaron Matras (Allen Lane, £20)
For bien pensant Brits, the correct term for gypsies is Roma. Or Travellers, if you must. Well, according to this engaging account of them, the correct term is actually Romani (which for some of us is just Latin for Romans) and individuals are called Roms. Did you know that? No, me neither.
Yaron Matras is a professor of linguistics at Manchester University and an authority on gypsies, professionally as a linguist, and as a friend of many gypsies and an advocate of their rights. I Met Lucky People (the words are taken from the gypsy anthem) isn’t anthropology so much as a sympathetic account by a knowledgeable friend.
It’s not easy to pin gypsies down in any sense, except in terms of their common language. They span most of the countries of Europe, with a particular historic concentration in south-eastern and eastern Europe. They came originally from India, via Turkey and the Byzantine empire, which they reached by the 11th century. There, because of their exotic character and unknown origin, they were described as Egyptians. Which is where we get our name of gypsy. Actually, that was how one cheerful gypsy woman described herself to me in Kosovo in 1999.
As I say, Prof Matras is a linguist. His description of gypsy language is fascinating; his account of their origins and history sometimes less sure. For instance, he makes quite clear that gypsies are not the same as Travellers but he doesn’t really nail the curious political correctness that invariably lumps them together. For anyone Irish, Travellers mean quite a distinct group, formerly known as tinkers, who have in terms of language and appearance next to nothing in common with gypsies except mobile habits and a strong sense of community. In discussing the Indian origins of the group, the professor hardly mentions the obvious, dark skin. And in describing what he calls the Vlax Roms, he doesn’t make clear whether he’s conflating them with the Vlachs, a Balkan people who are in terms of language and looks very different.
But he does know gypsy life, and he’s a mine of riveting information about customs and attitudes. The most obvious aspect of gypsy identity is its communal character. The extended family trumps the individual, and the family in turn is part of a clan or kinship unit, though most Roms lack names for these things. So the nuclear family and the individual are always in the context of the group, which gives them solidarity, identity and economic support. Children are the responsibility of the community and share in all aspects of life. Given all this, forcing gypsies to live in isolated settled units is wilfully destructive of the most important thing about them.
But there’s so much that’s fascinatingly different about gypsies — not least their strict rules about cleanliness based on the strict demarcation of the upper and lower (or shameful) parts of the body and the obligation to wash food separately from anything connected with the lower body.
There’s the sexual modesty which prohibits the discussion of sexual matters in mixed company, which contrasts with the usual perception of gypsy sensuality. There are the fine legends about gypsy origins: one has it that compassionate gypsies stole the nails from Christ’s cross, after which they had licence to steal from everyone else.
Then there’s their common history of discrimination and persecution — the near 100,000 killed under the Nazis must be put in the context of displacement, hostile legislation and forced sterilisation for much of the 20th century. God, we’ve been horrible to gypsies. But at least in Professor Matras they have a compassionate and knowledgeable champion.
Go to standard.co.uk/booksdirect to buy this book for £16, or phone 0843 060 0029, free UK p&p
