Frans Sammut’s missing works

During this year’s National Book Fair, my late father Frans Sammut was commemorated along with other authors who recently passed away.

The organisers should be thanked for acknowledging these exponents of Maltese culture, and for giving Maltese readers the opportunity to learn about literature that deals directly with our daily concerns.

Needless to say, all good literature has universal value irrespective of its land of origin. Nonetheless, real catharsis comes only from an understanding of the local situation which only good, local literature can give.

The write-up prepared by the fair organisers mentioned my father’s best known works, and others which are less known. It rightly highlighted Il-Gaġġa, Samuraj and Il-Ħolma Maltija, and his monographs of a historical nature.

But the organisers forgot to mention three works which were dear to my father, and which should not be overlooked, even though they are his most recent.

I am referring to his translation of Vassalli’s collection of Maltese proverbs, his commentary on The Da Vinci Code and his rendition of Caxaru’s Cantilena into modern Maltese.

The first work, Għajdun il-Għaqal, Kliem il-Għerf u Qwiel Malti, is an ingenious translation of Vassalli’s 1828 Motti, Aforismi e Proverbii Maltesi, in which the great scholar not only explained the meaning of these proverbs but also gave their history.

My father was particularly proud of this publication, which he saw as the natural companion to Vassalli’s Lexicon. The modern reader finds Vassalli’s collection useful because it opens a window on proverbs which are no longer used while explaining others which are still in current use.

Many were surprised, according to the fair’s organisers, that my father also wrote about San Ġorġ Preca. But they forgot to mention that many were equally surprised that he wrote against the thesis presented in The Da Vinci Code.

This bilingual monograph is noteworthy for many reasons, but primarily because it is my father’s only work in English and showcases his deep understanding of Christian theology.

Somebody writing in another newspaper opined that this monograph is “of world standard”.

At the end of his life, my father was most enthusiastic about the third work: his own rendition of Caxaru’s Cantilena into modern Maltese, which has been hailed as “revolutionary”.

I recently showed it to a world-renowned Arabist who told me it is the finest rendition he has read so far. This rendition formed part of the research my father was conducting for his latest novel, which was to be about the Abate Vella, the protagonist of Leonard Sciascia’s The Council of Egypt. My father’s untimely death prevented him from proceeding beyond the incipit.

So while thanks are due to the book fair’s organisers, they should also be reminded that they would have been fair with bibliophiles and other readers had they added these three important pieces of information.

Next year’s fair will probably see two other books by Frans Sammut, in Italian, which might be published in Sicily in the coming months. Incidentally, my father would have celebrated his 66th birthday yesterday had he still been alive.