Last summer, for work, I was to write an article on commonplaces, and I quoted two famous sentences describing this word: “There’s nothing better than commonplaces” (Baudelaire) and “After all, commonplaces express the deepest poetical truth” (Stevenson). As I was writing, a memory suddenly flashed through my mind, at an almost dizzy speed. From Baudelaire and Stevenson, I moved on to a great humorist, a great and an unfortunately forgotten personality: Giovanni Mosca, who was born in Rome in 1908 and died in Milan in 1983. But the really memorable date was July the 14th, 1936.
On that day, the first issue of “Bertoldo” came out: it was a Tuesday and Friday biweekly publication, with a cover price of thirty lire cents. The “leader” was a dialogue between the Baron and Bertoldo. I am quoting here a few lines. Baron: “What is the civil servant like?” Bertoldo: “Zealous and active”. Baron: “And the film?” Bertoldo: “This season’s latest masterpiece”. Baron: “What name are women given when they are sitting in the gallery?” Bertoldo: “A flock of select ladies”. Baron: “What is the constitution of the distinguished patient like?” Bertoldo: “Strong and hard-wearing”. Baron: “But what about the reiterated attacks of the disease?” Bertoldo: “They end up by prevailing…”. The author of these lines was Mosca, who edited the magazine in cooperation with Vittorio Metz. In one of the following pages, under the heading: “The affectionate gentleman”, you could see a lanky little man, wearing a black “redingote”, striped trousers and top hat.
The humorous comment, signed by Mosca, read: “Oh love, love, what would a man refrain from doing for the sake of love! Look at me, for instance, with my moustache shaped as a pansy, the so-called nostalgic moustache, in everlasting memory of the perfidious woman who deserted me and will never come back to me again”.

Before becoming a fulltime humorist, Mosca, who always signed his work with his surname only, had worked as an employee at the Ministry of Justice and had also been a primary school teacher. His language was surrealistic and vitriolic. The sad little men dressed in “redingote” announced to their children scornful prizes to reward them when they behaved themselves: “If you are good, on Sunday I’ll take you to see granddad die”. Or they took these little boys dressed in a sailor suit, to dive into a lake: “Look how crystal clear the water is: you can perfectly spot the pebbles at the bottom, as well as the corpses of uncle Paolo and of your little cousins”.

The “Bertoldo” magazine, whose editor-in-chief was Giovannino Guareschi, the future creator of Peppone and don Camillo, also voiced the political opposition to the regime prevailing in those days. Fascism, for instance, had declared war on foreign words: “Filmo” instead of film, “arzente” instead of cognac, “ballo tabarino” instead of bal tabarin.
Mosca reacted with a cartoon entitled: “either purism or death”. The usual little man, seizing a blade, prepared to behead an old man: “Basil, Basil, Basil, Basilio Puoti! In the name of our great purist, I am killing you, Baron. You have pronounced the word “tennis”; but you cannot say “tennis”, since this is a foreign word. Enough with these foreign words that corrupt the beauty of our language! So, enough with “tennis”! We shall replace the exotic word “tennis” with the local, Italian word “tennis”, pronounced with a clear, firm and ringing voice, bare-chested, on the top of the Apennines, while grasping harrows and shovels”. When EIAR (the former name of RAI) first started the serial “Radio Sociale”, Mosca’s humour reached unforgettable peaks. He thought of “brick-work” songs for masons, “textile songs” for woollen manufacturer “, “metallurgic songs” for iron and steel workers. The “Bertoldo” adventure ended in September 1943. Mosca had got into trouble with the censors in connection with a one-act play, “La sommossa” [The Insurrection], an open satire on Mussolini’s postures and speeches. He also had problems and was attacked in the post-war period for another single-act play “Collaborò” ”[He collaborated].

The “Candido” season had now started, with the campaign in favour of monarchy, with clearly spelt-out anticommunism. Guareschi’s greater political aggressiveness seemed to surpass Mosca, who left “Candido”; at this stage he edited “Il Tempo di Milano”, then the “Corriere dei piccoli”, and became in charge of dramatic criticism on the “Corriere d’informazione”, as well as starting writing articles on the “Corriere della Sera”. The other memorable aspect of Mosca’s work is linked to the daily cartoon on the “Corriere d’informazione”, which was the afternoon issue of the “Corriere della Sera” and is now no longer edited. For reasons which it is not worthwhile going into here, for a number of years I was the member of the editorial staff who would receive Mosca’s morning ‘phone call. “Nanni”, as his friends called him, would say: “It’s all ready, you can send for it”. His voice was always fresh and very kind. Mosca had got up very early, he had gone through the newspapers and, in the quietness of his home, he had spotted among hundreds of news items the one which lit up his creativity. Sometimes I felt sorry and obsessed at the idea of Mosca’s mornings, having to find a hint for a good idea at all costs. How could he possibly not be tired, always display the same unchangeable freshness, the same sound as that of a silver coin bouncing on marble? The truth was that the sense of sorrow and obsession only belonged to me. Mosca viewed humour as a second sight, which enables you to reach beyond appearances. There always is a bizarre fragment that shines against the grey background of our days: the point is getting to spot it. Among the hundreds of cartoons, one in particular stands out in my memory. These were the days of the Fiumicino Airport scandal. Mosca sent in a cartoon displaying one of his little men seen from behind. The background was a large glass-wall and behind the glass-wall were carabinieri’s silhouettes. The joke read: “On the right we have closed, on the left we haven’t opened yet, and now where do we escape?”. Mosca could also heavily target the political wing which he was labelled to belong to. Freedom was a word that had to be experienced in a consistent manner for a man that, besides being the author of the “crepuscolare”-styled “Ricordi di scuola” [School Memories], had also translated the Satires of Horace. As I mentioned to start with, it was my desire to dedicate this Almanac to a great and forgotten man, Giovanni Mosca. It isn’t fair that the long, almost endless chain of smiles that Mosca has offered us in almost half a century of work should remain in the background and lapse into oblivion. I’m here to remind you that the little men in “redingote” were called Brunacci Bonamonti, Bellotti Bon, signor Ulderico, cavalier Ambrogio Vitali or professor Celiomontanus. These names continue to exist in the inmost recess of our memories, marking the rhythm of the past generation they belong to. Is this nostalgia? Yes, it’s nostalgia. Translated by interpres sas