"Pinocchio" by Carlo Collodi (Ita) illustrated by Jacovitti (Ita). First Edition published by AVE (1964), second and third by Editrice Fratelli Spada (1969-1974), fourth by C.S.E.I. (1982), fifth by Editrice Fratelli Spada (1983), sixth, seventh, and eighth (1992, 2001, 2011) by Stampa Alternativa/Nuovi Equilibri with an afterword by Gianni Brunoro.

There is a delicate pleasure in writing useless things: on one hand, it forcibly drives one towards a lateral approach while on the other, like modern-day Stanley, it compels one to search.

In this specific case, it is about the pursuit of uselessness, and no matter how you view it, there seems to be no escape within the jungle of the already said: pages about Collodi abound (both paper and digital), and the same goes for his favored creature, which boasts at least 90 versions (including illustrated, comic, musical, cinematic, theatrical, etc.) and rivers of ink (even metaphorically) in various comments on its pedagogical and satirical value. Even DeBaser boasts an interesting archive on the subject,

The same discourse obviously applies to the luxurious co-star Jacovitti (a DeReview), and, even if we would like to nitpick, the Collodi/Burattino/Jac trio has already been comprehensively covered (for example in this elegant page that delves into the close bond Jacovitti has woven with Pinocchio) inside and out.

Nevertheless, the voluptuousness (2) I spoke of above pushes me (besides spending long winter afternoons in crowded Cafès, warming both heart and hands with steaming cups of tea, talking about simple and banal things, fairy tales, illustrations, and comics being part of the list along with Soccer, Rugby, American Football, and Basketball of course) to the task of whispering what you probably already know. Still, we are on DeBaser, and I remind everyone once again that, "Each must find what they want, even with fetishism, even as a filthy voyeur, like the most crass of soul peepers. But maybe not."

I do not want to delve into the novel itself (I will only say that, like all children, I found the Talking Cricket intolerable and admired Lucignolo), but I want to pause on the iconography born from Collodi's work. I believe most Italian children grew up with the versions by Mazzanti, Mussino, or Chiostri: the first has probably become the prototype of illustration in children's books, the other two splendid for more pictorial calls than "classic" illustration, in any case, all three are epochal considering they are still used (and are a reference in their genre) despite the youngest being 100 years old. Besides these, the television adaptation by Comencini, which, for better or worse (the Cat and the Fox), has left an important mark (not only television) on Italian culture (popular and not) and that of Disney to which a remarkable technical effort for the time (1940) is owed for the fact that outside the national borders there is a bit of confusion about the original plot and that (even inside the borders) sharks are mistaken for whales.  

Having said that, "Le Avventure di Pinocchio" are the proof that if something is beautiful, it is difficult for the "covers" (unless one really tries: Benigni teaches) to be really rotten: if one like Jacovitti attempts the effort (for whom the term "genius" is not, for once, exaggerated) the result cannot but be remarkable. In reality, we must speak of results because Jac crossed paths with the puppet three times (actually, for purists, it's four times, but we are not that precise): two as an illustrator (a field in which the Termoli author is unjustly underrated) and one as the author of a comic version (even though, to be honest, it was more captions than balloons). The first two versions (one of the illustrated, published by "La Scuola" Publishers in '45 and the "comic", for "Il_Vittorioso", between '46 and '47) are definitely remarkable for technique, style, and innovative personal vision (considering the master was still young) and, while very different from each other ("classical" the first, almost "naïve" the second), do not have the imaginative and provocative charge that would become his signature style.

The third one in '64 (the object of this "review") which is not a comic but a true illustrated version, instead, sees a mature Jacovitti and presents a cocktail of characters, backgrounds, and "oddities" that have passed into History. We are in the 1960s, and references to Italy at the time are distinct and notable, and the Molise author transforms Tuscany (the original setting) into the Boot of the Boom, of television but also of the 1000 bell towers, the still evident backwardness (not that now...) and the desire for a "new world" (a bit America, a bit Soviet Union) of the period. Despite this without distorting too much the pedagogical spirit of the novel, in fact reinforcing its histrionic and satirical charge.

Of course, those who already know the "classic" Jacovitti will find nothing new (for this better to seek the other two versions which, with a bit of effort, can still be found) but a "different vision" of a "classic", born from the imagination of one great meeting another, indeed: besides a formidable historical comparison between two Italies not so "far" apart.

In my last excursion to a large distribution bookstore, the "large volume" cost 26 euros: it could be a nice gift for the little ones (but also for the grown-ups) closest to you.

Unfortunately, I couldn't complete this review by December 13th, but you still have the 25th (or January 6th) at your disposal.

Happy Saint Lucia (belated but heartfelt) and don't confuse sharks with whales, mind you...

C.G. (Girlanachronism) 

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