Two men in a crow’s nest. Carpinteri Faraguna

Lino Carpinteri (1924–2013) and Mariano Faraguna (1924–2001) were the leading figures, in a long and extraordinary artistic partnership, in Trieste’s radio, theatre, journalism and literature for over fifty years, navigating the highly complex and controversial periods in the history of the region during the second half of the twentieth century, using the tools that came naturally to them and which earned them success and the public’s affection: the use of dialect and a powerful vein of satire and humour. Nevertheless – with the exception of a few flattering cases, including Eugenio Montale, who agreed to publish one of his unpublished poems as an epigraph to the Milanese edition of the collection Serbidiòla, Natalia Ginzburg, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Stelio Mattioni and a few others – the duo’s work has never received much attention from the literary world, and from critics in particular. ‘Of course, there is no such thing as literary criticism in Italy,’ writes Giovanni Comisso in his introduction to one of their collections of short stories, ‘and for this reason the human soul has been neither aware nor fully informed of the masterpiece that the Maldobrie represent.’ In fact, their body of work and their role are more deserving of attention than ever, for they have engaged with the principal historical and cultural issues of the eastern border whilst simultaneously identifying certain genuine literary peculiarities: it is precisely through the Maldobrie that they created the only epic (a heroic-comic one, but an epic nonetheless) of navigation and seafaring in a port city that is, strangely enough, rich in literature in general but poor in maritime literature; they contributed, from an ironic perspective – which in itself implies awareness – to the birth and establishment of the myth of ‘Austria Felix’ and of Trieste as a “Mitteleuropean” city; finally, like many ambitious and esteemed creators of literary worlds, they forged for themselves the linguistic tool – part traditional, part artificial – that alone could give voice to that world, bringing it to life and making it vibrant.

Throughout their entire body of work, beginning with their journalistic output, Carpinteri and Faraguna demonstrate great continuity and consistency: in form, in relationships, in ideas, and even in their use of words. The law of C&F is the law of conservation. A conservatism which, in the heated climate of post-war Trieste, was sometimes described as reactionary and even ‘fascist’: a highly rash judgement for two intellectuals who – having been members of the Resistance (Faraguna, in the Catholic-oriented Osoppo Brigade) or living in hiding (Carpinteri had been forced to go into hiding because of his Jewish origins) during the war – began their journalistic careers in the post-war period with publications that were unequivocally anti-fascist. What is certain is that Carpinteri, a member and supporter of the Republican Party, and Faraguna, a liberal, remained staunchly and proudly anti-communist and, above all, radically opposed to Yugoslav and Titoist demands in all matters concerning the ‘Eastern Question’. This stance leads to almost paradoxical outcomes when, within the newspaper “Il Piccolo”, that favours the historic DC-PCI compromise, the supplement “La Cittadella” pursues its own editorial line, coming to represent a sort of autonomous and polemical ‘fifth column’ distributed alongside the newspaper.

These were the years of Borghesia eroica: cartoons and articles dedicated to those who are always ready to change sides, opinions and even their own personal history just to please whoever is in power at the time and who, consequently, cannot help but be mercilessly mocked by a group of satirists who have made loyalty to oneself their primary value. But Carpinteri and Faraguna are not merely satirists, always incisive and effective in their inventions. First and foremost, rather than mere critics of social mores, they are genuine humorists. In other words, they practise that art which, whilst not quite ‘the ultimate (or supreme) form of goodness’ – as Saba observed when speaking of Svevo – because they were not, nor did they intend to be, ‘goodies’ – is certainly a lofty form of understanding. Many people from Trieste have recognised themselves in their art – or rather, have recognised their neighbour, their aunt, their grandfather or their colleague, which is always easier and more enjoyable – and have rewarded them with a warm, enduring love.