“Especially if you are six years old, a single day is fundamental; it can still and forever change everything, there must be a sacred respect for the days when children are at stake” (p. 24). In a Rome school today, the teacher Titti surprisingly knows her first-graders well, and even those older children whom others call parents, yet she sees still their fragility, residues of unresolved issues, gigantic weights on souls never fully unburdened.
From the very start of Liberi tutti (in bookstores from Feltrinelli), Chiara Gamberale lets it be teacher Titti who speaks, addressing a vague “you” for the most part of the book. She hints several times at a tragedy that occurred five days earlier, “to all that blood. All of it. That blood.” (p. 105). And the suspense, consequently, grows.
A relationship that goes beyond ordinary, healthy trust between school and family
The retrospective narration, however, takes its time, veering like we do when we recount an event to someone and feel compelled to open parentheses about the people involved, the backstories, and, sometimes, to yield unnecessary revelations or, at least, not requested.
Titti does not utter anything superfluous, in light of the ending, but there is something out of place, because it unsettles us how much she knows about the lives of those families. She knows too much. Even lurid details, hidden aspirations, romantic desires and sexual experiences of those parents. Yet what is even more shocking is that it is precisely they who have spoken about them to her, establishing with her, during school conferences, a relationship that goes beyond ordinary and healthy trust between school and family.
The endless lack of communication within families
Thus, problems emerge that afflict even the seemingly most irreproachable families (frustration, disaffection, sense of inadequacy, boredom, loss of interest in others, …). And where words fail, Titti merely needs to observe carefully who is before her. Yes, because the teacher senses any discord; a gesture or a misworded remark triggers a deeper investigation. Connecting the dots between those big-kid children and those little-kid children is an art that allows Titti to uncover many forms of imprisonment, contradiction, and dissatisfaction. And, above all, an infinite lack of communication.
Here, through Titti’s gaze and commentary, Chiara Gamberale invites readers into many families that live by stereotypes: from the “Tuttobeeene,” who hide their problems behind an apparently unassailable exterior, to the single mother who convinces herself she can do it alone and strives to shield herself and her daughter from further disappointments; from the utterly supplementary couple to the one where the husband handles the children, the home, and everyday life while the wife is frequently away for work; up to the family living in the painful memory of the loss of the eldest daughter, unintentionally neglecting the other child.
Educator and referee, observer and defender
The risk, as one might expect, is to fall into clichés precisely because one enters the typical families of our times. But Gamberale remains ever attentive to probing the human psyche, labeling each figure with that decisive trait, portraying the characters by highlighting what defines them, without the pressure to capture them in full. And so, the characters, even when numerous, stay memorable, and we step into their homes even when, perhaps, they would have preferred to keep us out.
Because the balance of a family is extremely delicate, at least as delicate as that of a classroom. Especially in a first grade, where many six-year-olds begin to discover trust and loyalty, the warmth of love and friendship, and, conversely, the appetite for revenge and misunderstandings. And the teacher’s figure stands there, an educator and referee, an observer and defender, without ever substituting for the small child.
For Titti, you can talk about anything with her little students; there is nothing that cannot be addressed: “I believe that where a big child protects a little child and explains the world to them in kid-speak, anything is possible” (p. 34). How often, however, does she—unintentionally—witness shabby dialogues, full of contradictions, often because she is distracted by commitments and by technology? And how many times would she like to shield the little children from those big children who are not in control of themselves?
In this rising narrative, Chiara Gamberale lets the suspense grow as the story unfolds, drawing nearer to a cursed day, without rushing toward a resolution, in a psychological excavation that delves deep and leaves readers shaken.
