Introduction
Ermanno Detti
This issue of The Lion and the Unicorn includes a number of studies of children's literature in Italy that provide an initial definition and general panorama of the current situation of this literature and its development during the past two centuries. To begin a brief, succinct account, I trace the development of humorous literature from the nineteenth century to the present, with an emphasis on those writers who can still teach or tell us something. Maria Luisa Salvadori offers a study on the writings of Gianni Rodari (1920-1980) and his followers, enabling us to understand the range of effectiveness and the dynamic forces in Rodari's work. Lella Gandini, whose expertise derives as much from her experience as a writer as it does from her scholarly work, reflects on the nursery rhyme. Finally, Carla Poesio introduces some contemporary author-illustrators who have transcended national borders and have brought or are bringing a completely new art to the whole world—that of the poetry of images. Poesio's essay is a particularly interesting study because it examines works that go against the grain. In an epoch of technological development, the image might be expected to acquire ever more warmth and lyricism, whereas, in fact, we are too often unfortunately witnessing the triumph of bad taste. The picture books analyzed in Poesio's essay are a happy exception to this trend.
Reading the various studies, the reader will quickly notice that most of the writers treated—and they are the most significant ones in Italian history—have made extensive use of the nursery rhyme, either gathering together well-known favorites or making up new ones. This emphasis is justifiable: there are few writers for children in Italy who have not drawn on this expressive form. The reasons are many, but the most significant is surely that, in Italy, the nursery rhyme has had great significance. It is already present in the spontaneous games of children; it is learned by the child before school age and remembered for life. Since it is so prevalent in popular culture, it is known even by the illiterate or semiliterate to the [End Page 143] point that, like the lullaby, it has always been an instrument of communication between adults and children. Through publication in school textbooks, the nursery rhyme has been used to teach children how to read and write. And, finally, in books for children, it invariably finds approval among younger readers. No surprise, then, that the authors of children's literature should have made such heavy use of the nursery rhyme, and it is no surprise that they continue to do so.
It is precisely by using the nursery rhyme that a notable level of expressiveness has been reached. This use may be due to the fact that the rhythm helps communication with the child, or because the nursery rhyme implicitly contains certain characteristics that make it easier to understand. In general it tells a "lighter" sort of story, manages to be ironic and transgressive, and remains entertaining. With the nursery rhyme, Italian writers have been able to articulate themselves in congenial territory that has its roots in the finest popular traditions, and this grounding guarantees its success.
Even the best artists, when they illustrate a work, follow a kind of musical scheme that endows their images with a rhythmic beat that begins in a muted manner and then suddenly explodes. I believe that this is typical of their best work, a style that is certainly not natural but stems from the Italian cultural tradition. One need only think of Emanuele Luzzati and of his "impoverished art" which suddenly rolls forth in an avalanche of gilded hues, or of the illustrations of Roberto Innocenti, in which the point of view is constantly shifted so that we are shown many different takes on reality (as though we think we're seeing a movie and hearing its soundtrack). One need only recall Sergio Tofano and many others like him, who have invented a specific strip that lacks dialogue balloons but has sequences that follow the rhythm of the nursery rhyme.
Threads in the Tapestry of Italian Children's Literature
Naturally, the reader of this issue will not find a discussion of all the rich and different Italian works for children, since this is impossible to present. For this reason a general overview is useful since it can compensate in some manner for what is missing and at the same time define certain aspects of Italian children's literature. Let us say at the outset that children's literature in Italy displays one peculiarity—practically speaking, the modern literary genres do not exist. Indeed, there are very few writers who have produced detective and mystery stories, science fiction, horror stories, and so forth. [End Page 144]
Today's writers—the most important of them, such as Roberto Piumini and Bianca Pitzorno, known prizewinners in Italy and abroad, whose works have been translated into many languages, or younger writers such as Stefano Bordiglioni—work within the realm of the short story, the fairy tale, or the nursery rhyme. In short, they follow the traditional models. In those rare cases in which they dare to experiment with more modern literary genres, Italian writers have managed to produce only mediocre works, and even when this has not been the case, they have not been taken into consideration by the critics. This has happened already with the great adventure writer Emilio Salgari (1862-1919), the most important Italian writer of modern genre fiction. For example, he wrote a few westerns, and although he produced some eighty novels and about one hundred fifty stories that succeeded in attracting many young readers, he has been ignored for a long time and often scorned by critics. Only in recent years has he been reconsidered and his work—now somewhat dated, objectively speaking—been reevaluated.
This situation has, of course, had various consequences. On the one hand, Italian writers have not measured themselves against a literature much appreciated by youngsters, enabling American and British modern fiction (mysteries, science fiction, horror stories, adventure novels) to benefit from abundant translation into Italian. On the other hand, traditional Italian literature has resisted fragmentation and not split off into modern genres. Instead, our children's literature has known how to renew itself from within a highly appreciated tradition throughout the world, creating masterpieces sufficient to resist the test of time. In this manner, a phenomenon has manifested itself that concerns not all but many Italian writers: despite the rapid change in tastes and tendencies, numerous Italian writers have retained enduring popularity. This is the case not only with masterpieces such as Carlo Collodi's Pinocchio (1883) or Edmondo De Amicis's Cuore ("Heart") (1886), but also with the works of other authors who are periodically rediscovered. Some of their characters have even been transferred to the screen, as in the case of the pirate Sandokan in Le tigri di Mompracem ("The Tigers of Mompracem") (1883) by Emilio Salgari (1862-1911) or in the Piccolo Alpino by Salvador Gotta (1887-1980).
However, although Italian authors do not write detective fiction, horror stories, fantasy tales, or romantic fiction, we can detect upon close examination that certain general literary tendencies have been consolidating themselves in Italy that begin to resemble modern literary genres. Let me give a few examples. There is the fairy-tale tradition that gave birth to Carlo Collodi's Pinocchio; there is the trend of sentimentalism [End Page 145] that was best articulated by De Amicis' Cuore; there is the adventure genre, whose progenitor is certainly Emilio Salgari; there is the humorous strain, now certainly the most important because of the influence of Gianni Rodari; it has signalled a genuine "turning point" with its tendency toward transgression of boundaries. Consequently, it has enabled children's literature to emerge from the obsessive protectiveness of official pedagogy and provide for greater freshness and a new lyricism.
The Fairy Tale
The fairy-tale tradition constitutes a literary richness of unquestionable value. For instance, a work like Pinocchio, written more than a hundred years ago, is still read and translated throughout the world, and its reputation does not seem to be on the decline. I have said that Pinocchio is a work that belongs to the lineage of the fairy tale, and in effect Collodi's story is a fairy tale. But it is a fairy tale that contains in itself all the elements of the other tendencies: it is rich in elements of the adventure story; it is full of sentimentality and passion; it is rich in irony and wise sayings reflective of a deep sense of humor and wit. It is important to note at the outset that the comic aspect of Pinocchio, like that of other humorous works, is not based on gags or coarse expressions. Collodi was Tuscan, and as is often the case with Tuscan writing, laughter derives from audacious language, from a potent use of dialogue in which sharp witticisms and idioms alternate, from a language that is rhythmic, and even on occasion from sarcasm and from the bitterness of the clear awareness of a reality from which it is impossible to escape.
Thus Collodi's work belongs to the comic, humorous tendency not only because of the terrible and often erratic monkey business of the wooden puppet, but also because of the prompt and often caustic wisecracks, the mordant and irreverent "Tuscanizing" language, and the grotesque situations (think of the nose that grows and shrinks). We can take as an example the beginning of the novel, when Geppetto goes to Master Antonio to ask him for a piece of wood with which to shape Pinocchio, and he finds him on the ground, half unconscious.
"Good day, Master Antonio," said Geppetto; "what are you doing on the floor?"
"I'm teaching the alphabet to the ants."
"Much good may that do you."
"What has brought you to me, neighbor Geppetto?"
"My legs. But to say the truth, Master Antonio, I am come to ask a favor of you." [End Page 146]
"Here I am, ready to serve you," replied the carpenter, rising on his knees.
"This morning an idea came into my head." (5,6)
The already grotesque situation of Master Antonio on the ground is made even more bizarre by his wisecracks, like that paradoxical remark about "teaching the alphabet to the ants." But even the figurative language instills hilarity in the reader. For instance, Geppetto has an idea that comes into his head by chance just that very morning. There is also a more general comic effect that springs from the condition of the two carpenters, who live in the most abject misery, but who also—and this is the paradox of paradoxes—live happily without thinking about it. Clearly the two woodworkers have no anxiety about planning for the future, but only a heedless and congenial desire to live for the moment. Ironically, woes descend on Geppetto precisely when he decides to plan for the future, or, rather, when he decides to build himself a puppet in order to wander about the world and earn some income.
The literary fairy tale has developed from Collodi's day until the present, so much so that it continues to constitute a privileged thread of invention for Italian authors. Fairies, magicians (who are sometimes called alchemists in a more contemporary idiom) ghosts, enchanted castles, speaking animals, etc. are conspicuously present in the new narrative, and the children appear to appreciate them.
The Heart and Sentimentality
The second important current in Italy has been the sentimental, which stems from the novel Cuore by Edmondo De Amicis. This work has been translated throughout the world and is based on strong sentiments. De Amicis attempted to create a new, laicized and philanthropic morality, suited to the enlightened bourgeoisie of Italy at the end of the nineteenth century, under the reign of King Umberto I. The novel, purportedly the diary of a child in the third grade, recounts episodes of positive heroism, boldness, sacrifice, and commitment performed by certain children. At the same time, it also represents negative instances of slothfulness and of the search for easy and dishonest gain. Some episodes are particularly touching, due to the suffering undergone by the protagonists or because of the supreme sacrifice to which they devote themselves with convinced heroism.
The work of De Amicis has been subject, after its initial success, to re-examination that has not spared it severe criticisms. It has been especially accused of excessive rhetoric and a facile ideological celebration [End Page 147] of social and patriotic values. In effect, the characters in Cuore succeed in driving their readers to tears and seducing and involving them by making the most profound feelings resonate. Precisely because of their extraordinary propensity for sacrifice and commitment, however, the characters' actions and behavior appear to us today as quite dated. Nevertheless, it should be said that, beyond the details, the great merit of De Amicis has been to understand that children should have great and strong feelings as the basis of their behavior. There is nothing worse than the contrived joyous tale, the game that is merely rational and cold, or a plot that resolves itself in a kind of elaborate practical joke deprived of all ideals. All this De Amicis knew perfectly well and revealed it to children of his time and their successors.
Unfortunately, the intentions of De Amicis have not been well understood, and many writers have imitated him with cloying stories steeped in false sentiment. Thus it is that, drawing inspiration from De Amicis, much of Italian children's literature of the early twentieth century, even up to the 1960s, created little heroes who went off to die alongside soldiers to safeguard the Fatherland, or who helped their parents until their dying day, struggling against destitution and hunger. The result was a cloying literature, which only made children cry during a time of life when it is far preferable to laugh, play, and dream. In addition, this literature proposed values that in some way came into conflict with new ideas that were making headway in the world, that is, those of progress, science, and peace.
On the other hand, since World War II there has been a literature that has opposed itself to De Amicis's sentimentality and defined itself as avant garde. This literature has sometimes appeared interesting, but also more artificial than unconventional. In practice, because of their fear of falling into sentimentalism, some writers have stripped their stories of all feeling. This has happened not only in Italy, but in other countries as well.
The Adventure Story
Finally, a few words about the literary current of the adventure, effectively created in Italy by Emilio Salgari, who had been inspired by foreign writers such as Jules Verne, Alexandre Dumas, and Eugène Sue. Salgari was viewed suspiciously by the official pedagogical establishment, which had been rather attentive to a literature that proposed values like those of De Amicis and his followers. And the criticism of pedagogues is not without its consequences. Children's literature is today [End Page 148] still studied in Italy in the education departments of universities. Unfortunately, these institutions do not pay sufficient attention to the esthetic merits of a work (the wealth of its fantasy, for example), but concentrate on its pedagogical elements alone.
All this has been a grave obstacle to the development of a literature of fantasy. Pedagogical criticism did not understand, for example, that Salgari is one of the few Italian writers who has known how to embrace literature beyond national borders and to create both characters of inspiring heroism and tales rich in action and suspense. With his extraordinary imagination, Salgari carried his young readers to exotic and extraordinary places under foreign skies It was the triumph of a truly vital imagination that, precisely because of its vividness, did not answer to the educational canons of the period and therefore frightened the pedagogical establishment. To be sure, Salgari has had many imitators. Certainly the best known is Luigi Motta (1881-1955), who, inspired by his master, wrote more than a hundred adventure novels.
The Turning Point
Children's literature in Italy finds itself today at a turning point. After the postwar renewal, in which Rodari played a major role, new writers have appeared in numbers to carry forward the work of Rodari or to re-attach themselves to traditional forms. Some, more recently, have attempted paths that might carry them to less restricted contexts, that is, to the international context. And it is to these new writers that readers are now looking with interest.
In the pages that follow, the high points of children's literature in
Italy will be brought into relief above all from the point of view of
their historical development. There has been, however, no attempt or
desire to conceal the shadows, which, when they are recognized, no longer
frighten us and are left behind with the simple recollection that they
are there and do no harm. In fact it is in remembering the darker areas
that the best work comes about.
Works Cited
Collodi, Carlo. Pinocchio, the Tale of a Puppet. Trans. M. A. Murray. Rev. G. Tassinari. New York: Signet, 1996.
