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S T U D I E S
A M E R I C A N
TOWARDS A
UNIFIED ITALY
I T A L I A N
salvatore dimaria
I T A L I A N
Italian and Italian American Studies
Series Editor
Stanislao G. Pugliese
Hofstra University
Hempstead, NY, USA
This series brings the latest scholarship in Italian and Italian American
history, literature, cinema, and cultural studies to a large audience of
specialists, general readers, and students. Featuring works on modern Italy
(Renaissance to the present) and Italian American culture and society by
established scholars as well as new voices, it has been a longstanding force
in shaping the evolving fields of Italian and Italian American Studies by
re-emphasizing their connection to one another.
Towards a Unified
Italy
Historical, Cultural, and Literary Perspectives
on the Southern Question
Salvatore DiMaria
University of Tennessee
Knoxville, TN, USA
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer International
Publishing AG part of Springer Nature.
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
Preface
This book is not entirely about the history of Italy. It is about the histori-
cal, cultural, and literary context that for over a century has informed and
inflamed the debate on the Question of the South or Questione del
Mezzogiorno. For over a century, the issue has pitted Northerners against
Southerners or, disparagingly, polentoni against terroni. The book begins
by discussing the 1860s annexation of the South by the North, dwells on
the major socio-economic issues that through the years have polarized the
country, and concludes with the auspicious outlook that the gap between
the two sides is beginning to close. In sum, the country is about to achieve
its much-coveted goal of uniting the Italians or, as it has been famously
stated, “making the Italians.” The analysis draws mainly on historical
events, on their fictional representation both in cinema and literature, and
on past and current newspaper reports. The reader will not fail to notice
that, though I grew up in Sicily and am still a Sicilian to the core, I have
done my best to maintain an open mind and follow the facts to whatever
conclusion they lead. I was just over 18 when I went with my entire family
to the United States in the early 1960s. The reader should also know that
I have dedicated most of my professional career to the literature of the
Italian Renaissance and that modern Italy is a fairly new field of study for
me. I was drawn to the controversy on the Question of the South only a
few years ago and by chance. As a diehard Sicilian, I could not resist the
invitation to participate in an international conference on the Questione
based on the recent and very popular book Terroni (2010) by the
Southern journalist Pino Aprile. The book stirred old memories, taking
me back to the days of my youth when the Communist party led peasant
v
vi PREFACE
Francesco II, the deposed Bourbon king of the Southern Kingdom of the
Two Sicilies. They also denounced the new kingdom’s onerous fiscal
policies and its general neglect toward the newly conquered territory. In a
few words, they blamed the North for having conquered the South, taken
its riches, and abandoned it to a future of misery and backwardness.
As my interest in the debate grew, I found myself delving into the issue,
looking for evidence that would support claims often undocumented or
lacking credible sources. I soon became convinced that Southern activists
were reacting to the racist diatribes of the North with equally baseless
arguments or, at least, claims that were either unsubstantiated or easily
disputed. For instance, they insisted that the South had been a prosperous
kingdom under the Bourbon kings, when, in fact, it was one of the poorest
in Western Europe. They argued that under the Bourbons, public schools
allowed everyone to learn the art of reading and writing, giving even the
children of the peasantry the opportunity to have a career in public
administration or in the army. This assertion falls flat when one considers
that in 1861 only 0.86% of Southern children were enrolled in elementary
school, a proportion lower than that of every other region in the country.
By another measure, four years after the unification, 835 of 1000 male and
938 of 1000 female Southerners were illiterate. Some contended that the
brigands were heroes and patriots who defended the fatherland against the
“invading” Northern troops. In reality, most of the brigands were murders
and cutthroats. According to accounts that some brigands recall in their
autobiographies, they were the terror of the countryside. They survived in
the hills by ransacking villages and killing inhabitants who refused to hand
over money and/or jewelry. One of them wrote that he and his brigands
were feared as the scourge of God, or flagelli di Dio. Southern sympathizers
have also alleged that Garibaldi, the renowned “hero of the two worlds,”
was not a hero, but a war criminal. This charge betrays a labored attempt
to re-write history from a biased perspective, for Garibaldi was indeed a
true hero. His myth as the champion of the oppressed continues to live on
not only in Italy, but also in many parts of the Western world.
I concluded that such a biased revision of the past not only tended to
inflame an already heated debate, but also risked constructing a narrative
of the Southern identity based on facts as questionable as the ones some
Southerners wanted to discredit. The Southern cause would be better
served, I came to believe, if the South undertook an honest evaluation of
its past, acknowledged its problems, and accepted responsibility for the
many obstacles that hindered its development. Only then would it be able
viii PREFACE
to fashion a fresh and realistic image of itself, one that would counter the
denigrating version that the North has been narrating for more than a
century. Only then could the debate be elevated to a productive dialogue
that would ultimately lead to a better understanding of the issue and
inherently bring the two sides to speak as a united people of one Italy. I
therefore decided to join the debate with an article on the identity crisis of
the South, “La Questione del Mezzogiorno e la crisi identitaria del Sud,”
which was published in Italica in 2014 and later pirated by a Southern
weblog. The intent was to bring a fresh and unbiased perspective to the
discussion and, at the same time, stir it toward a more rational and
worthwhile course. In keeping with this belief, I continued with my
research, and two years later, I wrote “In difesa di Garibaldi,” which was
published in MLN and, like the other, pirated and posted on the Internet.
As I came across other contentious issues informing the debate, I decided
to write a book on the subject. Friends and colleagues both in Italy and in
the United States suggested that I write it for a readership not as partisan
as the Italian one. They convincingly argued that there are millions of
Italo-Americans eager to read about their ancestors’ past in the context of
the emigrants’ first experiences and the socio-economic reasons that led
them to emigrate in the first place and, equally important, why they chose
to go to America. Accordingly, I expanded and translated in English the
above-mentioned articles and turned them into book chapters. The first
article became the blueprint for the entire project and constitutes the
introduction to the book.
Relying on archival data, reliable scholarly research, and newspaper
reports, I focused on the much-disputed causes and conditions that gave
rise to troublesome cultural situations such as illiteracy, mass emigration,
and organized crime. I also drew from the various ways in which poets and
novelists, dramatists and filmmakers chose to put a human face on some
aspects of these events by representing them in the fictional world of their
works. The research led me to the conclusion that Garibaldi was a great
hero, that the South continued to be embarrassingly illiterate under the
new regime, and that the mafia evolved and prospered from the collusion
between the State and the criminal element. I also found that mass emigra-
tion was brought about not so much by the new kingdom’s fiscal policies
and neglect as much as by outside forces beyond State control. The
Americas attracted millions of laborers. Countries such as Brazil, Argentina,
and the United States had a great need of laborers to help in the ongoing
expansion of their industries and in settling the vast, undeveloped areas of
PREFACE
ix
there were not sufficient resources to deal with the many problems that
usually overwhelm a fledgling country. Having emerged from the costly
Crimean War (1853–56), the armed conflict for the annexation of the
South (1860–61), and three wars of independence (1848–66), young
Italy was too financially strapped to invest in the South in a meaningful
way. But the lack-of-funds rationale is more of a pretext than a justification.
The actual reason for the neglectful attitude toward the South was rooted
in the social bias and political expediency that forestalled public instruction
and the transportation infrastructure, the very essentials for economic
growth. For instance, the State’s decision to fund secondary education
and practically ignore elementary instruction was politically motivated. In
essence, the policy was meant to prepare a new generation of leaders
mostly from the privileged classes. Government leaders were careful not to
bolster mass education for fear of alienating the local galantuomini, their
reliable constituents. From national public officials down to local
authorities, they were all averse to popular instruction on the grounds that
it could disseminate revolutionary ideas among the masses. Sadly, this
political caution led the State to forsake its obligation to care for the
people it had annexed, leaving them in the same wretched conditions in
which it had found them.
Facts and figures notwithstanding, neither the North nor the South has
appeared willing to accept its share of responsibility for the events that
fueled the socio-economic disparity between their respective region. This
reluctance has seriously hindered the country’s efforts to achieve the uni-
fication it has been pursuing since 1860. At that time, a Northern diplo-
mat reminded the new nation’s king, Victor Emmanuel, that having made
Italy, “now we must make the Italians.” The reminder underscored the
fact that the Italians, tough now politically united, were still divided by
culture, regional loyalties, and language barriers. But while the rancorous
debate remains stuck in the past with its worn-out recriminations,
significant events are bringing this much-coveted and elusive goal within
reach. Illiteracy in the South has practically disappeared as improved
transportation infrastructure allows for easy travel for pleasure or business,
and industry, especially agriculture and tourism, keeps on growing at a
healthy pace. Not least, most Italians now speak a common language,
forsaking the local dialects of their grandparents. Moreover, outside forces,
such as immigration, digital technology, the European Union, and global
commercial realities are driving a cultural and economic transformation
that is obliterating past differences. Notably, it is rendering the conten-
PREFACE
xi
tious debate virtually irrelevant. Today’s Italy is poised to bridge the cen-
tury-old divide between North and South and finally “make” the Italians.
If some Italians do not share this optimistic outlook, it is because they are
too immersed in their daily realities to see that the country is shedding
some of its most undesirable cultural traits. Looking in from the outside,
one can see that the country is slowly moving, as one united people,
toward establishing itself as a modern society and as an economic power
ready to compete in world markets.
I am aware that my conclusion may not please everyone, especially
those who continue to rehash old arguments and stir partisan tendencies.
But I am optimistic that many readers will welcome my fact-based approach
to the cultural, economic, historical, and political circumstances that
caused the country to split apart. They will also appreciate the reasoned
argument that internal reforms and global pressures are driving Italy
toward the real unification of its peoples and, in the process, making it a
stronger economic power. Colleagues and friends who have followed the
laborious progress of this manuscript have encouraged me to bring it to a
conclusion. In their view, the argument needed to be made and readers,
especially those still free of partisan influence, must be given the opportu-
nity to read a documented and balanced perspective of the issues that have
torn the country’s cultural fiber. With this audience in mind, I have tried
to make the text reader friendly by keeping foreign-language quotations to
a minimum. In most instances, I paraphrase the source and cite it in the
notes. When necessary, I report the entire quotation in the notes. Unless
otherwise indicated, all translations into English are my own.
I must acknowledge here that I owe so much to those who in one way
or another helped me in bringing this project to its conclusion. Although
they are too many to mention by name, I would be amiss if I did not
express my most sincere gratitude to my dearest friends and colleagues
Rocco Mario Morano and Christopher Craig. They gave so much of their
time and sound advice that I do not believe I would have been able to
complete the work without their generous support. Chris Craig in
particular never held back his critique of my style and arguments, nor did
he ever tire of reading each chapter over and over, helping to clean up
mistakes and make the book presentable. Of course, if he deserves the
credit for all the advice and guidance, I must take the blame for all the
mistakes and missteps that the reader will inevitably find in the book.
xiii
xiv Contents
5 Emigration 111
Background 112
The Southern Economy Before the Unification 114
Impact of Liberist Policies 118
Economic Setbacks 121
Time to Emigrate 123
Emigration Engenders Emigration 128
Works Cited 229
Index 249
List of Figures
Fig. 2.1 Giuseppe Garibaldi. Source: Lebrecht Music and Arts Photo
Library/Alamy Stock Photo 30
Fig. 3.1 Salvatore Giuliano. Source: INTERFOTO/Alamy Stock Photo 63
Fig. 3.2 The brigand chief Luigi Alonzi, alias Chiavone. Source: Paul
Fearn/Alamy Stock Photo 66
Fig. 3.3 Carmine Crocco. Source: Realy Easy Star/Alamy Stock Photo 75
Fig. 4.1 Carusi in the sulfur mines. Courtesy of Marcello Frangiamone 92
Fig. 5.1 Steamship. Source: Paul Fearn/Alamy Stock Photo 126
Fig. 5.2 Railroad advertisement. Courtesy of the Kansas State Historical
Society129
Fig. 5.3 A farm out west. Courtesy of the Kansas State Historical
Society130
xv
CHAPTER 1
instances, stoked animosity. This book, based on careful research into the
central elements of Italian culture and history that are deployed by both
sides in the debate, strives to show a more realistic and comprehensive
picture of the roles that both North and South played in creating modern
Italy. In doing so, it takes issue with those who persist in seeing Italy as a
divided society mired hopelessly in crime and corruption and offers,
instead, a cautiously optimistic view of a country that is poised to shed its
negative reputation, overcome its divisive past, and finally “make the
Italians.”
Arguments fueling the present debate often rest on preconceived per-
spectives of the historical events that led to the annexation and to the rise
of the parties’ vexed relationship. The facts, data, and scholarship driving
my analysis help to zoom in on the actual causes that created and contin-
ued to stoke the controversy. Accordingly, I begin by placing the parties’
respective arguments in their rightful cultural and historical context, thus
stripping them of bias and assigning blame where it lies. I find that the
fault lies in part with the failure of the North (the Kingdom of Italy) to
fulfill its moral obligation to reconstruct the region it had destabilized by
forcefully annexing it, and in part with the Southern elite’s aversion to
changes that might have placed the South on a path of socio-economic
development. The discussion leads to the cautiously optimistic conclusion
that the debate is losing momentum as the country is becoming ever more
homogeneous. In fact, it is beginning to address in earnest some of the
issues that fostered the old animosity, most notably infrastructure and
organized crime. This development is largely the result of the great pres-
sure arising from the confluence of internal and external forces.
Immigration, globalization, and digital technology are forcing cultural
changes and legislative reforms that in the past the establishment lacked
the political courage to support. Bureaucratic and social reforms are begin-
ning to show their positive impact on the country’s socio-economic spec-
trum. These developments support the notion that Italy is becoming a
truly unified nation, a goal that has eluded the country’s leaders since
1860.
The book begins with a discussion of dubious claims about events that
led to the 1860 annexation, progresses to an overview of major cultural
and economic issues, and ends with an analysis of present-day Italy. It does
not dwell on detailed accounts of incidents and personages already
extensively treated by a vast scholarship both in Italian and in various other
languages. Instead, it focuses on the causes and effects of phenomena with
INTRODUCTION: THE SOUTHERN QUESTION 3
The Debate
The debate has its roots in the 1860s unification of Italy with its capital in
Turin under King Victor Emmanuel II of the House of Savoy, previously
King of Sardinia and Piedmont. The first hints of the controversy appeared
in the negative impressions that Northern officials had of the Southerners
at the time of the annexation. General Enrico Cialdini, one of the com-
manders of the Northern forces in the South, thought that the Bedouins
of Africa were “milk and honey” compared with the Southern “boors.” As
far as the Garibaldian general Nino Bixio was concerned, the Southerners
should all be sent to Africa to be civilized. The unification also unsettled
Massimo D’Azeglio, who feared that merging with the Neapolitans was
like sleeping with lepers.2 Others described the region as “a sort of Affrica
[with two f’s] populated by uncivilized tribes that had no honor and no
ideals” (Del Boca, 98). The issue took on a scientific veneer at the end of
the nineteenth century when positivist anthropologists bolstered these
negative views with their findings and theories. Anthropologists led by the
Veronese Cesare Lombroso found “unmistakable” evidence that the
Southerners were of an inferior race. They argued that the cranial mea-
surements taken from some Southern outlaws revealed that Southerners in
4 S. DIMARIA
emigrants with contempt, called them boors, or terun (dialect for ter-
roni), and in many instances refused them lodging or employment. But
it was in the 1990s, with the birth of the new political party Northern
League, or Lega Nord, that the controversy flared up with unprece-
dented virulence. In need of a political identity, the League’s ideologues
chose to define their party by recalling their region’s glorious past. The
word Lega is, in fact, an obvious evocation of the celebrated Lega di
Legnano, the historical coalition of the Lombard communes that
defeated the Emperor Barbarossa in the twelfth century. But for the pro-
moters of the movement, the memory of the heroic past was not enough.
It was also necessary to define the party in a context that would speak to
the present. In other words, they were in search of an identity that was
also current and relevant. Accordingly, they chose to focus on the con-
trast between South and North: the first, backward, lazy, terun, and
criminal or mafioso; the second, just the opposite: industrious, entrepre-
neurial, and civic-minded. And so they, the elected race of the civilized
and the industrious, distinguished themselves from the “cursed race” or
razza maledetta. Their diatribes against the South encouraged their fol-
lowers, known as leghisti, to indulge in abominable cheers such as “Go
earthquake!” or “Forza Terremoto!” while residents of L’Aquila, a city
in Abbruzzo, perished under the rubble of the 2009 devastating earth-
quake. Others, cheering “Go Etna! Go Vesuvius!” or “Forza Etna, Forza
Vesuvio!”, invoked the volcanic destruction of the entire South. At the
2015 conference on women in business that took place in Milan, appro-
priately called “From Puglia to Milan,” the delegation from Puglia was
“welcomed” by a big sign that read “TERUN.”5 Similarly, Northern
soccer fans often sang hateful songs against their Neapolitan rivals. In
one particular tune, they chanted that Neapolitans never wash and that
their stench is so bad that even the dogs run away.6
The South’s response to the League’s attacks came in an avalanche of
inflammatory media weblogs and a series of books and conferences. They
all condemned the racist North and commemorated the Kingdom of the
Two Sicilies, which the Bourbon dynasty had ruled for over a century
prior to the 1860 annexation. In his Terroni, Pino Aprile observed that
since 2001 there had been more than 700 conferences and a large number
of new weekly and monthly publications (290). In these forums, the
Northerners of today and the Piedmontese of the Risorgimento (roughly
the three decades following the unification) were attacked with the same
zeal that inspired leghista racism. Many attributed the South’s underdevel-
Another random document with
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repitió: “¿Estás contenta de que tu padre haya vuelto y de que ya no
se marche?”. La muchacha, que había mirado con suma atención a
los labios de su padre, tratando hasta de ver el interior de la boca,
respondió con soltura: “Sí, estoy contenta de que ha-yas vuel-to y de
que no te mar-ches ya nun-ca ja-más”. El padre la abrazó
impetuosamente, y luego, a toda prisa, le abrumó a preguntas.
“¿Cómo se llama tu madre?”. “Antonia”. “¿Cómo se llama tu
hermana pequeña?”. “A-de-laida”. “¿Cómo se llama este colegio?”.
“De sor-do-mudos”. “¿Cuántos son diez y diez?”. “Veinte”. De
pronto, y mientras que nosotros creíamos que iba a reír de placer,
se echó a llorar. ¡Pero también las lágrimas eran de alegría! “Ánimo
—le dijo la maestra—; tiene usted motivo para alegrarse, pero no
para llorar. Mire que hace usted llorar también a su hija. ¿Está
contento?”. El jardinero cogió fuertemente la mano de la maestra y
se la llenó de besos, diciendo: “Gracias, gracias, cien veces gracias,
mil veces gracias, querida señora maestra! Y perdóneme... que no
sepa decirle a usted otra cosa...”. “Pero no sólo habla—le dijo la
maestra—; su hija de usted sabe escribir. Sabe hacer cuentas.
Conoce los nombres de todos los objetos usuales. Sabe un poco de
Historia y algo de Geografía. Ahora está en la clase normal. Cuando
haya hecho los otros dos años, sabrá mucho, mucho más. Saldrá de
aquí en disposición de ejercer una profesión. Ya tenemos discípulos
que están colocados en las tiendas para servir a los parroquianos, y
cumplen en sus oficios como los demás”. El jardinero se quedó aún
más maravillado que antes. Parecía que de nuevo se le confundían
las ideas. Miró a su hija y comenzó a rascarse la frente. La
expresión de su semblante pedía claramente alguna mayor
explicación.
GARIBALDI
MAÑANA ES FIESTA NACIONAL
Junio 3
OY es día de luto nacional. “¡Ayer noche ha muerto
Garibaldi! ¿Sabes quién era? Es el que libertó a diez
millones de ciudadanos de la tiranía de los Borbones de
Italia. ¡Ha muerto a los sesenta y cinco años! Nació en
Niza, y era hijo de un capitán de barco. A los ocho años
libró la vida a una mujer; a los trece sacó a salvo una barca llena de
compañeros náufragos; a los veintisiete salvó de las aguas, en
Marsella, a un jovencito que se ahogaba; a los cuarenta y uno evitó
el incendio de un barco, en el océano. Combatió diez años en
América por la libertad de un pueblo extranjero; luchó en tres
guerras contra los austríacos por la libertad de la Lombardía y del
Trentino; defendió a Roma contra los franceses en 1849; libró a
Palermo y a Nápoles en 1860; volvió a combatir por Roma en 1867;
guerreó en 1870 contra los alemanes en defensa de Francia. Tenía
en su alma la llama del heroísmo y el genio de la guerra. Entró en
combate cuarenta veces, y salió victorioso treinta y siete. Cuando no
peleó, trabajó para vivir, encerrándose en una isla solitaria, a cultivar
la tierra. Fué maestro, marinero, trabajador, negociante, soldado,
general, dictador. Era grande, sencillo y bueno. Odiaba a todos los
opresores, amaba a todos los pueblos, protegía a todos los débiles;
no tenía otra aspiración que el bien; rechazaba los honores,
despreciaba la muerte, adoraba a Italia. Cuando lanzaba el grito de
guerra, legiones de valerosos corrían a él de todas partes: hubo
señores que abandonaron sus palacios, artesanos sus talleres y
jóvenes sus aulas, para ir a combatir, iluminados por el sol de su
gloria. En la guerra usaba blusa roja. Era fuerte, rubio, hermoso; en
el campo de batalla, un rayo; en los sentimientos, un niño; en los
dolores, un santo. Miles de italianos han muerto por la patria, felices
en la agonía al verle pasar a lo lejos victorioso; millares hubieran
dado su vida por él; millones le bendijeron y le bendecirán. ¡Ha
muerto! El mundo entero le llora. Tú ahora no lo comprendes. Pero
leerás sus hazañas, oirás hablar de él continuamente en tu vida, y
según vayas creciendo, su imagen crecerá ante tu vista; cuando
seas hombre, le verás gigante; y cuando no estés tú ya en este
mundo, ni vivan los hijos de tus hijos, ni los que nazcan de ellos,
todavía las generaciones verán en lo alto su cabeza luminosa de
redentor de los pueblos, coronada con los nombres de sus victorias,
como si fueran círculo de estrellas, y les resplandecerá la frente y el
alma a todos los italianos al pronunciar su nombre.—Tu padre.”
EL EJÉRCITO
FIESTA NACIONAL
ITALIA
Martes 13.—“Saluda a la patria de este modo en los días de sus
fiestas: Italia, patria mía, noble y querida tierra donde mi padre y mi
madre nacieron y serán enterrados, donde yo espero vivir y morir,
donde mis hijos crecerán y morirán; hermosa Italia, grande y
gloriosa desde hace siglos, unida y libre desde ha pocos años; que
esparciste sobre el mundo tanta luz de divinas inteligencias, y por la
cual tantos valientes murieron en los campos de batalla y tantos
héroes en el patíbulo; madre augusta de trescientas ciudades y de
treinta millones de hijos; yo, niño, que todavía no te comprendo y no
te conozco por completo, te venero y te amo con toda mi alma, y
estoy orgulloso de haber nacido de ti y de llamarme hijo tuyo. Amo
tus mares espléndidos y tus sublimes Alpes; amo tus monumentos
solemnes y tus memorias inmortales; amo tu gloria y tu belleza; amo
y venero a toda como a aquella parte preferida donde por vez
primera vi el sol y oí tu nombre. Os amo a todas con el mismo cariño
y con igual gratitud, valerosa Turín, Génova soberbia, docta Bolonia,
encantadora Venecia, poderosa Milán; con la misma reverencia de
hijo os amo, gentil Florencia y terrible Palermo, Nápoles inmensa y
hermosa, Roma maravillosa y eterna. ¡Te amo, sagrada patria! Y te
juro que querré siempre a todos tus hijos como a hermanos; que
honraré siempre en mi corazón a tus hombres ilustres vivos y a tus
grandes hombres muertos; que seré ciudadano activo y honrado,
atento tan sólo a ennoblecerme para hacerme digno de ti, y
cooperar con mis mínimas fuerzas para que desaparezcan de tu faz
la miseria, la ignorancia, la injusticia, el delito; para que puedas vivir
y desarrollarte tranquila en la majestad de tu derecho y de tu fuerza.
Juro que te serviré en lo que pueda, con la inteligencia, con el brazo
y con el corazón, humilde y valerosamente; y que si llega un día en
el que deba dar por ti mi sangre y mi vida, daré mi vida y mi sangre
y moriré elevando al cielo tu santo nombre y enviando mi último
beso a tu bendita bandera.—Tu padre.”
EN EL CAMPO
Lunes 19.—Mi buen padre me perdonó una vez más y me dejó ir a
la jira que habíamos proyectado con el padre de Coreta, el vendedor
de leña. Todos teníamos necesidad de alguna bocanada de aire en
las colinas. Fué una diversión. Ayer a las dos nos encontramos en la
plaza de la Constitución, Deroso, Garrón, Garofi, Coreta padre e
hijo, Precusa y yo, con nuestras provisiones de frutas, de salchichón
y de huevos duros, teníamos vasitos de cuero y de hoja de lata;
Garrón llevaba una calabaza con vino blanco; y el pequeño Precusa,
con su blusa de maestro herrero, tenía bajo el brazo un pan de dos
kilos. Fuimos en ómnibus hasta la Gran Madre de Dios, y luego,
arriba, a escape por las colinas. ¡Había una sombra, un verde y una
frescura...! Dábamos volteretas en la pradera, metíamos la ara en
todos los arroyuelos y saltábamos a través de todos los fosos.
Coreta padre nos seguía a lo lejos, con la chaqueta al hombro,
fumando en su pipa de yeso y de cuando en cuando nos
amenazaba con la mano para que no nos desgarrásemos los
pantalones. Precusa silbaba; nunca le había oído silbar; Coreta, hijo,
hacía de todo, según andábamos; sabe hacer de todo aquel
hombrecillo, con su navajita de un dedo de larga: ruedas de molino,
tenedores, jeringuillas; y quería llevar las cosas de los demás, e iba
cargado que sudaba de firme, pero siempre ligero como una cabra.
Deroso a cada paso se detenía para decirnos los nombres de las
plantas y de los insectos; yo no sé cómo se arregla para saber tanta
cosa. Garrón iba comiendo su pan en silencio; pero no es el mismo
que pegaba aquellos mordiscos que era un gusto verlo, ¡pobre
Garrón!, después que perdió a su madre. Siempre es excelente,
bueno como el pan: cuando uno de nosotros tomaba carrera para
saltar un foso, corría al otro lado para tenderle las manos; y porque
Precusa tenía miedo de las vacas, porque siendo pequeño le habían
atropellado, siempre que pasaba una, Garrón se le ponía delante.
Subimos hasta Santa Margarita, y luego abajo por la pendiente
dando saltos y echándonos a rodar. Precusa, trabándose en un
arbusto, se hizo un rasgón en la blusa, y allí se quedó avergonzado
con su jirón colgando, hasta que Garofi, que tiene siempre alfileres
en la chaqueta, se lo sujetó de manera que no se veía, mientras que
él no cesaba de decirle: “¡Perdóname! ¡Perdóname!”. Luego, vuelta
a correr de nuevo. Garofi no perdía su tiempo en el viaje: cogía
hierbas para ensalada, caracoles y todas las piedras que brillaban
algo se las metía en el bolsillo, pensando en que podrían tener algo
de oro o de plata. Siempre adelante corriendo, echándonos a rodar,
trepando a la sombra y al sol, arriba y abajo por todas las
elevaciones y senderos, hasta que llegamos sin fuerzas y sin aliento
a la cima de una colina, donde nos sentamos a merendar en la
hierba. Se veía una llanura inmensa y todos los Alpes azules con
sus crestas blancas. Todos nos moríamos de hambre, y parecía que
el pan se evaporaba. Coreta, padre, nos presentaba los pedazos de
salchichón sobre hojas de calabaza. Todos nos pusimos a hablar a
la vez de los maestros, de los compañeros que no habían podido
venir y de los exámenes. Precusa se avergonzaba algo de comer, y
Garrón le metía en la boca lo mejor de su parte a la fuerza. Coreta
estaba sentado al lado de su padre con las piernas cruzadas, más
bien parecían dos hermanos que no padre e hijo, al verlos
colocados tan inmediatamente los dos, y alegres y con los dientes
tan blancos... El padre trincaba que era un gusto; apuraba hasta los
vasos que nosotros dejábamos mediados, diciéndonos: “A vosotros,
estudiantes, sin duda os hace daño el vino; los vendedores de leña
son los que tienen necesidad de él”. Luego, cogiendo por la nariz a
su hijo, le zarandeaba, diciéndonos: “Muchachos, quered mucho a
éste, que es un perfecto caballero: ¡os lo digo yo!”. Todos nos
reíamos, excepto Garrón. Y seguía bebiendo. “¡Qué lástima! Ahora
estáis todos juntos como buenos amigos, y dentro de algunos años,
¡quién sabe! Enrique y Deroso serán abogados o profesores, o qué
sé yo, y vosotros cuatro en una tienda, o en un oficio, o el diablo
sabe dónde. Entonces, buenas noches, camaradas”. “¡Qué!—
respondió Deroso:—para mí, Garrón será siempre Garrón; Precusa
será siempre Precusa, y los demás lo mismo; aun cuando llegase a
ser emperador de todas las Rusias, donde estén ellos iré yo”.
“¡Bendito seas!—exclamó Coreta, padre, alzando la cantimplora—;
así se habla, ¡vive Cristo! ¡Venga esa mano! ¡Vivan los buenos
compañeros, y viva también la escuela, que crea una sola familia
entre los que tienen y entre los que no tienen!”. Tocamos todos la
cantimplora con los vasos de cuero y de hoja de lata, y bebimos por
última vez. Y él gritó, poniéndose en pie y apurando el último sorbo:
“¡Viva el cuadro del cuarenta y nueve! Y si alguna vez vosotros
tuviéseis que formar el cuadro, mucho cuidado con mantenerse
firmes como nosotros, ¡muchachos!”. Ya era tarde: bajamos
corriendo y cantando, y caminando largos trechos cogidos del brazo.
Cuando llegamos al Po obscurecía, y millares de moscas luminosas
cruzaban los aires. No nos separamos hasta llegar a la plaza de la
Constitución, y después de haber combinado el encontrarnos para ir
todos juntos al teatro de Víctor Manuel para ver la distribución de
premios a los alumnos de las escuelas de adultos. ¡Qué hermoso
día! ¡Qué contento hubiera vuelto a casa si no hubiese encontrado a
mi pobre maestra! La encontré al bajar las escaleras de nuestra
casa, casi a obscuras; apenas me reconoció, me cogió ambas
manos, diciéndome al oído: “¡Adiós, Enrique; acuérdate de mí!”.
Advertí que lloraba. Subí y se lo dije a mi madre: “He encontrado a
mi maestra”. “Sí, iba a acostarse”, respondió mi madre, que tenía los
ojos encendidos. Luego, mirándome fijamente, añadió con gran
tristeza: “Tu pobre maestra... está muy mal”.
GRACIAS
Miércoles 28.—Mi pobre maestra ha querido terminar el año escolar;
tres días antes de terminar las lecciones se ha ido. Pasado mañana
iremos todavía a clase para oír leer el último cuento mensual,
Naufragio; luego... se acabó. El sábado 1.º de julio, los exámenes.
Otro año; por consiguiente, ¡ha pasado el cuarto! Y si no se hubiese
muerto la maestra, habría pasado bien. Reflexiono sobre lo que
sabía el pasado octubre, y me parece que sé bastante más:
encuentro varias cosas nuevas en la mente; soy capaz de decir y
escribir mejor que entonces lo que pienso; podría también hacer
cuentas para muchos mayores que no las saben sacar y ayudarles
así en sus negocios; comprendo con más claridad casi todo lo que
leo. Estoy contento... Pero ¡cuántos me han impulsado y ayudado a
aprender, quien de un modo, quien de otro, en casa, en la escuela,
por la calle, en todas partes donde he ido y he visto algo! Yo doy
gracias a todos en este momento. Doy gracias a ti en primer lugar,
mi buen maestro, que has sido tan indulgente y afectuoso conmigo,
y para quien representa un trabajo cada uno de los conocimientos
nuevos de que ahora me vanaglorio. Te doy gracias a ti, Deroso, mi
admirable compañero, que con tus explicaciones prontas y amables
me has hecho comprender tantas veces cosas difíciles, y salvar
muchos escollos en los exámenes; a ti también, Estardo, fuerte y
valeroso, que me has mostrado cómo una voluntad de hierro es
capaz de todo; a ti, Garrón, generoso y bueno, que haces generosos
y buenos a todos los que te conocen, y también a vosotros, Precusa
y Coreta, que me habéis dado siempre ejemplo de valor en los
sufrimientos y de serenidad en el trabajo; y al daros gracias a
vosotros, doy gracias a todos los demás. Pero sobre todos, te doy
gracias a ti, padre mío, a ti, mi primer maestro, mi primer amigo, que
me has ofrecido tantos buenos consejos y enseñado tantas cosas
mientras trabajabas para mí, ocultándome siempre tus tristezas y
buscando de todas maneras cómo hacerme fácil el estudio y
hermosa la vida; a ti, dulce madre mía, mi querido y bendito ángel
custodio, que has gozado con todas mis alegrías y sufrido todas mis
amarguras; que has penado y estudiado conmigo, acariciándome la
frente con una mano mientras que con la otra señalabas al cielo. Yo
hinco mis rodillas ante ti, como cuando era niño, y os doy gracias
con toda la ternura que pusísteis en mi alma durante doce años de
sacrificios y de amor.