Chapman University Chapman University Digital Commons Frank Mt. Pleasant Library of Special Collections Sergio De Benedetti Manuscript and Archives 1940 Sergio de Benedetti Manuscript (English translation) Sergio de Benedetti Follow this and additional works at: http://digitalcommons.chapman.edu/debenedetti Part of the European History Commons, Italian Language and Literature Commons, and the Political History Commons Recommended Citation de Benedetti, Sergio, "Sergio de Benedetti Manuscript (English translation)" (1940). Sergio De Benedetti Manuscript. Book 2. http://digitalcommons.chapman.edu/debenedetti/2 This Book is brought to you for free and open access by the Frank Mt. Pleasant Library of Special Collections and Archives at Chapman University Digital Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Sergio De Benedetti Manuscript by an authorized administrator of Chapman University Digital Commons. 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Petrarca 1 2 Chapter One A Strange Education Although in the records at the registrar's office in the city of Florence, Italy, my birth is recorded as falling in the month of August of the year 1912, my life effectively began in 1929. In the winter of that year, after a laborious and very painful reevaluation, I liberated myself of all the ideas -- ideas which were for the most part nothing more than prejudices -- which had resulted from a strange education. Then, after a period of much skepticism and pessimism, I began togradually construct my own conception of the world on the basis of my experiences. This rebuilding of my personality is far from complete even to this day, and may well be modified in the future. This state of continual search and eternal doubt is not always very agreeable; it is, however, more satisfying to me than the acceptance of anyof the ideologies that allow most people to relax lazily with a certain sense of ease. Even though I tried to construct my personality according to my experiences in the world, it would be vain to deny that my earlier life history, from the perspective of heredity and education, did not have a considerable influence on me. The influence of what I saw, heard, absorbed and learned before the year 1929 is largely confined to my subconscious; none of the doctrines and ideas that I considered to be mine before that date remained without having been subject to a severe critical evaluation. I think, though, that it would be fitting to acknowledge, at the start of these memoirs, the experiences of my childhood, in order to provide some insight into my present and future attitudes. * * * My family belongs to the Jewish petit bourgeoisie of Florence. I was born and lived the first years of my childhood in the home of my maternal grandparents Carlo and Bice Passigli. My grandfather was a businessman who had retired before the First World War with a small savings which hewatched, with truly Jewish trepidation, as it shrank with the inflation. I believe that my great-grandparents, Cesare and Rosa Passigli, must have lived in the ghetto for part of their lives, and must have been admitted into Italian society by the liberal reforms of Rtheisorgimento. My grandfather therefore, perhaps with reflexive memories of the past, was naturally a liberal: he was always against Fascism, yet as part of the group who, through free trade, was able to pass from a condition misery to one of relative comfort, he was equally opposed to any radical movement for social reform. My mother, Amelia, had the minimal education that every Jewish family feels obligated to give its children. I consider her to have been endowed with an uncommon intelligence and sensitivity, and above of all, an insatiable thirst for truth and justice. Until a relatively advanced age, she cultivated an intellectual freshness and enthusiasm for confronting problems which, in some cases, were superior to my own. I remember, for example,her passion for learning when she took some courses Parisin at the Sorbonne and the College de France. Her overriding characteristic is a need for justice and coherencethat prevents her from compromising, even on trivial matters; and this has resulted in more than a few problems for her. Her need to delve into problems and to discover new things is not, however, accompanied by what one would call a rational outlook; on the contrary, she leans towards mysticism and spirituality, which has furnished us with topics for endless discussions. When my mother is convinced of something, she fully is convinced, blocking out every doubt, and she is quite capable ofacrificing s herself and others for what she thinks is right. Given that her convictions are not always the fruit of objective reasoning, this characteristic subjects her to a kind of fanaticism. However in her interactions with me, except during my adolescence, she left me rather free to develop as I pleased, something for which I will always be grateful. 3 I have very few memories of my father, Guido DeBenedetti, who died when I was only six. He came from a family that was somewhat more intellectual than my mother's. (My paternal grandfather, Abraham or "Nino" whom I never knew, was ahigh school teacher.) Of my father I know only that he adored my mother; I was told that he was intelligent, but lacking in those qualities required for success in life. He was an employee at the Post Office. He was a Mason and sympathized with socialist causes. I regret having no more details about facets of his personality for which my memory does not serve me. Such was the character of my family. The life of hist family took place in a second floor apartment on aside street in Florence. The apartment was relatively large, but nevertheless rather modest and furnished in the questionable taste of an self-made businessman. The first years of my childhood were spent in this home ina gloomy setting. I only have vague memories predating the death of my father. I remember some disconnected and unimportant events: Many days during the First World War my family ate potatoes, but for me there was always good bread and plenty of good food. I remember that on some evenings my father would stay with my mother and me, entertaining me by designing and building marionettes that he carved out of wood with a penknife. The situation in my family certainly was not ideal for a growing boy. My grandfather had a heart of gold, but an irascible temper. He was prone to violent outbursts at the dinner table about the amount of salt in his soup. My parents were certainly not completely happy living in my grandparent's house (as my mother later confided to me) but they were forced to live there due to financial problems. The apartment did not have adequate air or light for the healthy physical or spiritual