La Bella 'Mbriana

The story

In Naples there is an hour of the day when time seems to stand still.

It comes after lunch, when the sun is high, the streets empty and the shutters are half closed. The Neapolitans call it the controra. It is too hot to go out, and too quiet to sleep. Inside the houses the air is still, the noises from the street arrive muffled, and in the kitchen a clock ticks as if it were the only one awake.

It is at that hour, they say, that she shows herself.

You do not really see her. If you are at home, perhaps sitting in the living room with a glass of water, it may happen that a curtain moves. There is no wind. The windows are closed. And yet the cloth sways gently, as if brushed by a hand. And for a moment you think you have seen a shadow, in a corner, the outline of a woman.

Then nothing more.

If you turn too quickly, if you look at her too insistently, she hides. They say she turns into a gecko, a small grey lizard that runs along the wall and vanishes behind a picture. That is why, in Naples, when there is a gecko in the house, nobody chases it away. It is said to bring good luck.

She is called the Bella 'Mbriana.

The name, according to scholars, comes from "meridiana", the noon line, the brightest hour. Or perhaps from "umbra", shadow. Either way, it is a shadow that arrives with the high sun.

There is more than one story about her origin. The loveliest, and the saddest, is this.

They say that long ago, in a city that must have been Naples, there lived a very beautiful princess. One day she fell in love with someone, and that someone left her, or was taken away, or died: everyone tells it in their own way. The princess, who was young and did not know sorrow, went mad with it.

She began to wander through the city like a shadow. From street to street, from alley to alley, not knowing where to go. She was cold even in summer. And nobody knew how to help her.

The king, her father, was in despair. He could not order anyone to take in his daughter: you cannot command kindness. So he did something wiser. He sent word, in secret, that whoever opened the door of their house to the princess, and gave her a place to rest, would be rewarded.

People opened their doors. One family, then another, then a hundred. And the princess went from house to house, sat down for a moment, stayed an hour. Whoever sheltered her never knew when she would return. But since she had passed by, in that house there was more peace, more light, as if something warm had stopped there.

So, they say, the habit was born of considering the Bella 'Mbriana the protector of houses. When the princess was no more, her memory remained: a gentle shadow, that comes by to keep you company.

And how should you behave with such a guest?

With respect. And the first rule is simple: greet her. When you come into the house, especially at sunset, you say under your breath: "Good evening, Bella 'Mbriana." In the past everyone said it, even the most hurried. It costs nothing. And they say the greeting is the best way to keep her in a good mood.

The second rule is to keep the house tidy. The Bella 'Mbriana loves cleanliness. If she finds dust everywhere, dirty plates, unmade beds, she takes offence. And an offended Bella 'Mbriana is not something to wish on anyone: she brings bad luck, and in the oldest tales, even bereavement.

In some houses people do even more. They leave a chair free, or lay an extra place at table, in the more devout families. It is not to be strange. It is a way of saying: here there is room for you too.

Another rule, more curious, concerns moving house and building work. They say she must not be frightened. For this reason, when people have to change house or redo the rooms, the more careful Neapolitans speak of it cautiously, outside the walls, and without complaining about what is there. Because a house that hears itself criticised may be hurt.

According to some, as early as the seventeenth century Giambattista Basile, who collected the Neapolitan fairy tales, described her as a good fairy, a sort of female Munaciello. The Munaciello is the mischievous little monk. He plays tricks, she brings peace. Two spirits for every house: one to keep you awake, the other to let you sleep soundly.

So, next time you are in Naples, on an afternoon in the height of summer, and you see a curtain move without any wind, do not be afraid. Smile. And say it softly, as you would to an old friend:

"Good evening, Bella 'Mbriana."