Nicola Chiaromonte
RETURN TO FONTAMARA
If
the term "socialist realism" made any sense Ignazio Silone
would be the only contemporary writer to whom it could be applied.
For Silone is a "realist" through his exclusive attachment to the com–
munity of
cafoni
(peasants) which no matter how often he changes its
name remains the Fontamara of his first book. "Realist," too, is the
simplicity of his narration, good-natured and sardonic in the peasant
style; and again in the peasant style, seeking its effects by allusions
and sudden silences rather than by subtleties, rejecting any complexity
that cannot be translated into simple words. Silone continually prefers
crudity to preciousness; it pleases him more to appear sentimental than
to pass for "intelligent."
As for Silone's "socialism" it consists entirely of his recollection of
the intricate reality of peasant life, which contains, as an integral and
daily part, the need for justice and the hope that the reign of superior
force will some day cease. Silone associates himself with this need and
this hope, and compared to them cares little for anything else: political
parties, ideologies,
governm~nts.
He cares least of all about "changes,"
as he calls them, which he measures by what they alter in Fontamara:
that is, practically nothing.
But all this is a bit too simple. It neglects the fact that Silone's
realism is essentially ironic and his socialism staunchly religious, if by
religion we understand a quest and a passion for the enduring-for
something beyond appearances and "changes." Properly speaking, there–
fore, Silone is concerned neither with realism nor with socialism but
with moral truth and with hope. He does not admire the world of the
cafoni;
on the contrary, he finds it pitiable and grotesque. He knows
very well that the people of Fontamara have been left behind by the
course of events, and are on the point of being forgotten, if not heed–
lessly dispersed. Nevertheless, they remain his point of reference, his
touchstone, his exemplars, not because they are endowed with virtues
superior to those of city dwellers, but because, by their sheer presence,
by having endured and remained entirely themselves, poor, ignorant and
abandoned, they place everything else in doubt-history, civilization,
