were scarce. At the literary level, AngloAmerican texts and writers, from Radclyffe Hall
and Virginia Woolf to Rita Mae Brown and Adrienne Rich, dominated the scene. There
are some examples in modern Italian literature of texts in which lesbians are seen as
minor characters providing marginal storylines, but very few which deal with the
specificity of the lesbian experience. Annamaria Borgonovo’s La gabbia (The Cage)
(1964), in which the lesbian protagonist eventually commits suicide, and Bibi Tommasi’s
La sproporzione (Disproportion) (1980) are of only historic interest. Dacia Maraini’s
important Lettere a Marina (Letters to Marina), a feminist meditation in epistolary form
published in 1981, seems to mark a turning point for lesbian writing in Italy. It is from
this point that the woman-identified weltanschauung, for the first time, becomes
privileged. For Italian lesbians, 1981 was indeed a watershed, a year which saw the first
national lesbian conference and the formation of the first Italian lesbian organization, the
CLI (Collegamento Lesbiche Italiane). These two factors, together with the publication in
1980 of a collection of interviews with Italian lesbians, functioned to focus public
attention on lesbianism as a phenomenon distinct from its gay male counterpart.
Two other writers, Fiorella Cagnoni and Liana Borghi, are worthy of note. Borghi’s
Tenda con vista (Tent With a View) (1987) is a lesbian subversion of the Scheherazade
tale, a modern conte philosophique. Cagnoni’s two lesbian feminist thrillers, Questione di
tempo (A Matter of Time) (1985) and Incauto acquisto (Imprudent Purchase) (1992),
feature a lesbian amateur sleuth.
While the 1980s marked a flowering of the literature of lesbian experience, male
homosexuality had been a consistent thematic of postwar literature. In the works of many
mainstream heterosexual writers, Alberto Moravia (Agostino, The Conformist), Elsa
Morante (Arturo’s Island), Vasco Pratolini (Tale of Santa Croce) and Giorgio Bassani
(The Gold-Rimmed Spectacles), homosexuality is unfailingly situated within a poetics of
difference and the homosexual experience is loaded with negative connotations.
This negative position is also evident in the work of certain gay writers like Pier Paolo
Pasolini and Dario Bellezza. In Pasolini, two homosexual types can be identified: the gay
and the male prostitute. Ragazzi di vita (The Ragazzi) (1955) and Una vita violenta (A
Violent Life) (1959) describe the world of the sub-proletarian street kids in Rome who
prostitute themselves out of sheer economic necessity. The truly gay characters are
stereotypically drawn as the simpering and impotent victims of an almost acceptable
persecution, whereas the ragazzi di vita with their mercenary indifference to gay sexual
relations evoke a degree of sympathy from Pasolini, who sees in them a lost Eden of
sexuality.
In Bellezza’s first novel, L’innocenza (Innocence) (1971), Nino, the protagonist,
consciously chooses the perdition and corruption of a living homosexual hell. In
Bellezza’s infernal world, homosexuality can be nothing else but prostitution and
neurotically masochistic obsessions: in Lettere da Sodoma (Letters from Sodom) (1972),
his conclusion is that everything is Hell and that the only salvation is the systematic
refusal of the self.
For other writers homosexual guilt was exorcised, either on the model of Forster’s
posthumously published Maurice in works like Umberto Saba’s Ernesto, or on the model
of an essentially heterosexual transfiguration of the lived homosexual experience which
one finds in Giovanni Comisso and Aldo Palazzeschi
. Palazzeschi managed to leave not
a single trace of his homosexuality in anything he wrote except for a vague, ephemeral
Encyclopedia of contemporary italian culture 360