Customer Reviews

A Goomba's Guide to Life

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1 star:		(1)

 

 

I'm a literary snob, and when I saw this book on the bookstore counter, I cringed. Schirripa is a terrific actor on The Sopranos, but I immediately figured this was another attempt by a level B celeb to make some extra cash with garbage masquerading as a book. But I opened it and started reading in the check out line and started laughing so hard and loud other customers started rubbernecking. The kind of laughs that bring tears to your eyes and pain to your stomach. This guy is truly funny, and all of his humor is based on truth. The book is also written with tremendous warmth, and could be subtitled "Pasta Fazool for the Goomba Soul." It's actually inspiring. And--how's this for a plus--it contains some fantastic and easy recipes. I feel like I got more than my money's worth from this book--laughs, inspiration, and some great Italian meals.

One of the best friends I ever had was a guy from "the neighborhood" (actually Long Island) who was so obviously Italian-American (and a fair slice Colombian too, if the truth be telt) that he seemed to be a parody of his own lifestyle.

Little did I know, he wasn't a self-parody...he was simply A WORLD-CLASS GOOMBA.

I had grown up understanding this to be an insult...and under some circumstances, it is...but the truth is that those guys who live The Good Life as gangsters on TV and the movies aren't just the embodiment of some preppy screenwriter's fantasy; they are in fact living arguably the best possible life there is.

This book tells you, in some ways more certain than others, just how to live that same life, even if you've no more any Italian blood within your veins than Elvis Presley (solidly honorary Goomba status) or Genghis Khan.

It's a fascinating introduction to anyone who's ever been captivated by the lifestyle portrayed onscreen by uber-actors Robert DeNiro, Al Pacino, Paul Sorvino, and yes, James Gandolphini and the cast of "The Sopranos", yet was understandably hesitant about embracing the lifestyle most often showcased in their most widely-regarded films or TV shows.

In other words, you don't have to be a gangster to be a big shot. You DO have to THINK you're a big shot whether or not you actually ARE before anyone else inside the know will believe that you are or not.

My father once told me that ever since the Jazz Age, young black males have been the one group that most young white males most sought to emulate. I don't dispute that, but reading this book should certainly give most impressionable young men cause to pause; the Goomba understands life in a fashion that most anyone else will never completely grasp without serious intervention.

Ladies and gentlemen of all ethnicities, I offer "A Goomba's Guide To Life" as the best non-Biblical way to find your way through existance since the Von Hoffman Brothers' "Big Damn Book of Sheer Manliness". You never quite understand completely if the intentions are pure or parodoxic, but they are regardless entertaining; sterotypes are not embraced, but they are certainly not cast aside without all due reverance. A great read, makes me wish even more that I was from "the neighborhood".

This is a very funny book. It accurately portrays what it's like being an Italian guy from New York. And let me tell you from experience, it's exactly as fun & funny as Schirripa describes. Another good book about an Italian guy from New York is "No One's Even Bleeding". (Also highly recommended.)

absolutely loved the book. funny, true, and an excellent celebration of the italian culture in many ways. the book could use a section depicting the characteristics and rituals of goombas from across the country (e.g. Buffalo). otherwise, the book is an exciting tale of being italian. The book also could be classified as a simple self-help book because Steve is right on about good goomba's: we treat people right, we love our family first and foremost, and we have a positive attitude. By the way my son is anthony, my daughter is gabriella, my dad was anthony and my mom was marie. mom just paased away and for her eulogy i ended it with Jerry Vale's "More". This goomba also knows what he's talking about. all the best to my fella goombas!

...
Americans and Italians both tend to be pretty provincial people. It stands to reason, I guess, that Italian-Americans would display a degree of provincialism raised an order of magnitude. Or more. This notwithstanding, anyone reading Schirripa's view of the "goomba" culture should be warned that it's *so* damned narrow and simplistic as to blow even its entertainment value.

Like Schirripa, I'm a late-middle-aged third generation Italian-American. Like him, too, I'm of mixed blood. He's half-Italian, half-Jewish. I'm Sicilian on the paternal side, and my mother's family is an only-in-America derivation from Naples and Abruzzo. The difference seems to lie in the fact that while he's a native of New York City and thus tuned to the peculiar insanity of that malignant metropolis, my family got off the boat and headed for the farm country of South Jersey.

So let's correct just a few of the many ghodawful misapprehensions you'll get from reading this scoop of frothy pasta-pot overboil masquerading as a book.

(1) Most Italian-American men and women of our generation - and our parents' - are far more American than Italian. My father and several of my uncles spent World War II blowing holes in the Greater East Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere, and only my mother's brother, Vito (who went throughout his life under the nickname "Pete"), spent any time in Italy. His opinion of the folks we left behind barely bordered on the printable, and there's been nothing much to change that overall impression in my family. We're some of the most aggressively *AMERICAN* people on the planet.

(2) Contrary to the image presented by Schirripa, the majority of Italian-Americans tend strongly to seek steady employment. We don't wear sweat suits all damn day long, we're not particularly inclined to sport gold chains and pinkie rings, and we don't hang out with mob thugs. Don't mistake Las Vegas and New York City for the real world, or confuse Brooklyn (much less the Bensonhurst section of Brooklyn) with the honest-to-ghod America where most of us live and work and bring up our kids.

(3) A lot of the "Goomba" language Schirripa spouts about is simply creolized elements of the dialects - principally Sicilian - of the impoverished southern Italian provinces ("il Mezzogiorno") from which most of our ancestors emigrated. When an Italian-American drops the final "o" from "prosciutto," for example, it's because that's a fairly common pronunciation characteristic among Sicilians. Think of it as the Italian equivalent of a Texas drawl. My mom - whose milk-tongue Italian was thoroughly Abruzzesi - used to tease my dad about his "baby talk" Sicilian dialect. Schirripa and his ghostwriter miss this - and a helluva lot else besides.

(4) Not all Italian-Americans pledge allegiance to Frank Sinatra. He had a fine set of pipes, and did good work when he was jerked up short by smart producers, but his self-indulgent "Coo-Coo-Baby" crap gives anybody with any musical sense - regardless of ethnicity - a flaming case of the red ass.

I could go on, but why bother? I don't mind that Schirripa's trying to peddle a stereotype, but the reader should know before he goes into this pile of crud that it's not even a decently developed stereotype - nowhere near as funny as it could be, nowhere near as good a depiction of the intrinsic silliness of the Italian-American culture as you ought to be reading.

As for Mr. Schirripa himself.... Well, he's invited to come down and visit the Carranza Memorial any time he likes.
...

I started out a little skeptical, thinking this was just another product tied to the Sopranos name, hoping to snag the fans for their hard earned money. I was wrong! This book is has something for everyone; humor(yea, it's the guy kind, but I have to believe that guys are the target audience), Steve's history, life in the Italian-American neighborhood, an inside look at the Sopranos and recipes(simple, yet very good). What more could you ask for? Now I can't wait for his second book, "The Goomba's Book of Love"!

I took this book with me on a weekend trip and finished it on the plane on the way home. It's a quick read but very entertaining and I was chuckling all weekend. I even quoted parts of it to all my Italian friends when I got back to work on Monday! Whether you're Italian or not, anyone can relate and it's a fun look at life as a Goomba.

A Brief "Goomba 101..."

What are goomba Italian-Americans?
The terms goomba (also can be seen spelled goombah or goumbah) and guido are both synonymous terms used to describe a certain very ethnic Italian-American which usually resides in small New Jersey and New York neighborhoods known as "GuidoLands." When you take all of the children and grandchildren of Italian immigrants from all the different regions and throw them together, you have your Little Italy neighborhoods in America, and the goomba subculture emerges. Things get translated and changed and past onto the next generation, but the Italian root is still there. The GuidoLand residents are special types of Italian-Americans who usually fit a lot of the Hollywood stereotypes, because they are pretty entertaining characters. Goombas do things to the extreme when it comes to showing off the love for this particular East Coast subculture. Goombas have certain speech patterns, ways of dress, attitudes and ideas, but they truly love family and things that derive from Italy. Goombas don't wanna walk on the moon, they wanna walk to the corner Italian deli. Goombas don't try to discover a cure for Cancer, they'd rather go to the local Church and pray for it. Goombas like food, family, music, movies, sports, and just hanging out. They may not have the best jobs or homes but they still have that "numero uno" attitude. The goomba originated anywhere from thirty to forty to fifty years ago and will be around forever. The stereotypes may alter a little and new guido-isms may be created, but the goomba attitude-which is the main thing-will never die. If you haven't realized it by now, not all Italians are goombas. It's a special distinction made to certain guys who like Italian things over meddigan (white bread WASP) things.

Why do some take offense to the word goomba?
Usually it's because they think you are characterizing them with being gangsters or low-class. The goomba is neither. Some "holier than thou" Italian-Americans think the whole goomba thing is a "bas-tardization" of the culture because of the use of slang terms as opposed to formal standard Italian or because they are content with their living conditions and lifestyle and aren't out protesting some cause. It's a sad fact for one Italian-American to look down on another, considering the goomba's love for all things Italian, past and present, is always extreme and evident. That's why the goomba wears the Fila suits, and wraps himself in the Italian flag. And that's why most goombas like shows like The Sopranos and movies like Goodfellas, because they can relate to the goomba image. It's not that the goomba is relating to the gangster part, which is the part that is doing the crimes. Italian-American mafia characters are usually portrayed as very ethnic and distinct about their wardrobe choices and meals and a lot of other things they do. And that's the cool part about them that the goomba gets a kick out of, the Italian love, it's not all about seeing them chopping off other people's heads. A goomba can call out a fellow goomba like a black guy can call a friend the "n" word. It's a term of affection, not like greaseball or guinea which usually are offensive.

What is the goomba dialect?
Come stai, molto benne, buon giorno, arrivederci. Every Italian from Italy knows these words and every Italian-American should. But what about the goomba speech pattern? Those words and phrases that are a little Italian, a little American and a little slang. The goomba says ciao when he arrives or leaves. He says Madonna Mia anytime emotion is needed in any given situation. Mannagge, meengya, oofah and of course, va fungool can also be used. Capeesh? He uses a mopeen to wipe his hands in the cucina, gets agita from the gravy and will shceeve meatballs unless they are homemade from the famiglia. Always foonah your bread in the pot of gravy or you will be a mottie or a goo-goots. Mezza-fanooks and mulignans are usually always mamalukes and the girl from the neighborhood with the reputation is a facia-bruta puttana or a schifosa hewa (who-re). If you are called cattivo, garbbadosht, sfatcheem, stupido, or strunz you are usually a pain in the you know what. A crazy diavlo can give you the maloikya (evil eye), but that red horn will protect you if you use it right. Always say per favore and grazie and prego. Piacere is always said if you meet someone you like. If you are feeling mooshadd or stunad or mezza-morta always head to Nonna's and she will fix you with a little homemade manicott,' gavadell' or calamod' or some ricott' cheesecake. Mangia on some zeppoles, canollis, torrone, struffoli, shfooyadell', pignoli cookies, or a little nutella on pannetone. Delizioso! I think I will fix myself a sengweech of gabagol' with some proshoot and mozzarell' or maybe just a hot slice a peetz. Pasta fazool, mussels ma-dinara, clams oregenata, eggplant parmigian' and calzones are more traditional comfort food. Chiaccherones talk too much and if you say perche I don't know why. Just tell them to stattazeet. So salud' if you have any Italian blood in you and if you understood anything I wrote here. If so, you are numero uno and the professore of the goombas. Aspett' a minuto I have another thing to say, domani is another day! If you don't get any of this then fa Napola with the whole thing and you are a disgraziato. Scuzi, me dispiachay, I didn't mean that. Just fugheddaboutit.

Being half Italian, this book made me BUST A GUT! A GREAT gift (and it has some half-way decent recipes in it too). I got it as a gift for my 100% Goomba dad who DOESN'T READ BOOKS and he's LOVING it! Read it from cover to cover!

This book had me laughing for many hours.The stories he tells are so typical for every Italian family. I guess the part that hit home was the section about the funeral. "Should we eat now or later"