The Big Wolf Alberto 1, Silver (Ita) 1991 Rizzoli Editions (BUR)

So, let's start from afar: The Comic (as usual, bear with me for the seemingly random capital letters: they're not) as a means of communication was born together with the very concept of humanity (I'm not going to lecture you on prehistoric cave paintings or the birth of writing). As an artistic expression, however, many historians find a first spark in the Bayeux Tapestry from the 11th century C.E.. But "telling stories through images" and creating literature through images are two different concepts, and so we must leap to Switzerland in the 19th century C.E. to find an initial attempt to make one's work known to as wide an audience as possible. Unfortunately, if we define the Comic as an expression of popular culture, we must fast forward a few more decades and arrive in the States at the start of the 20th Century C.E. to reach the first large-scale commercial distribution.

From the 20th Century C.E. onward, this "poor" Art has always lived on the edge of being considered the exclusive domain of childhood and/or adolescence while trying to develop new and revolutionary languages in their own right, seeking to earn the dignity of an adult art form: it is impossible not to find in the fathers of humorous comics Herriman and Kelly so many then-current ideas that it is impossible not to place them in the History of Literature. Just as the greatest comic expression ever, in the opinion of the writer (who will one day dedicate a review to it), are the works of Schulz, is to be considered Literature in every possible sense.

Last preliminary note (and if you're wondering, it's not random): from Orwell onward, it is practically impossible to create stories featuring animal protagonists without ascribing political connotations to them.

In Italy, the greatest breeding ground for creative talent in the field can be traced back starting from the '60s in Franco Bonvicini's studio (known as Bonvì) in Bologna. Here, collaborating with the ingenious cartoonist from Parma, we find characters such as the protagonist of our story: Silver. Modenese Guido Silvestri (alias Silver), born in '52, began collaborating with Bonvì in the '70s, inspiring characters like Cattivik, but soon his youthful influences (which are those I referenced in the lengthy introduction: this is how you learn not to say my intros are random!) led him to create a character of his own: thus "The McKenzie Farm" was born in 1974 (a great year!), which soon took the title from its main character, "Lupo Alberto."

Lupo Alberto is, indeed, a wolf who lives free in the woods, and is in love with a chicken, Marta, whose home (originally a real henhouse) is located on a farm populated by peculiar animals, each with its characteristics (remember Kelly earlier...): the intimidating and dull Mosè (a watchdog who greatly resembles Herriman's Officer Pupp), the cultured Alcide (a pig), the childish and "foolish" Glycerine (a duck), and, among many others, the (unintentional) sidekick of the Wolf, Henry the Mole, dishonest, libertine (but very married unfortunately for him...), profiteer, and decidedly visually impaired (he confuses Alberto with an unidentified Joe...). All together, they create a microcosm where humans are never seen (just like adults are never seen in the "Peanuts") and where the chronicles, current events, and Italian politics of the years are targeted and (sometimes) good-naturedly exposed (in an Orwellian manner, this mode of proceeding).

Silver thus creates a true summary of a century of Comic History (and beyond) tailoring it to Italian events (from the civil rights of homosexuals to terrorism, through feminism and the Italian intervention in Lebanon in the '80s) without foregoing the humorous jabs typical of the genre and with the main gift of it: synthesis.

The book under review collects the first thousand strips created by Silver between the '70s and '80s, offering a comprehensive look at this small masterpiece that all too often has been hastily cataloged as "for kids" without realizing that in "Lupo Alberto," the author put all of Italy (its vices and virtues) and important themes like rebellion against commonplaces and nonconformity (a wolf who loves a chicken should give you the idea). Among the "precious things" collected, there's the short story of "Alianorah" and the strips dedicated to Henry's "sexual confusion".

In short: a glance at a world that no longer exists and pieces of us that are important.

 C.G. (Girlanachronism)

 

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