The (Self-)Destruction of a Scholar?

How a “trash” memoir can undermine the reputation of a renowned scholar

We have recently chosen to provide an English translation of our review of Alessandro and Massimo Firpo’s Lo ‘zio Verde’, la Utet e altre storie di famiglia (Aragno, Turin 2022), originally published in Italian in August 2024. And we wish, in the following lines, to explain in greater detail why this text—decidedly more than a harmless family album—deserved to cross linguistic borders. What presents itself as a memoir is in fact a sequence of ruthless indictments, a settling of accounts so ferocious that it frequently slips from history into caricature, from family chronicle into literary trash.

Luigi Firpo, the twins’ father, is not simply sketched as an opportunist incapable of writing an authentic book, afflicted by what they call a “schizofrenia morale” (“moral schizophrenia”). The portrait is darker: an absent father, a husband not only verbally but also physically cruel, a man capable of humiliating his first wife without hesitation. His bond with his mother, Angiola Ramella, is depicted in tones of morbid dependence, recalled by the sons with unconcealed contempt. Opportunism, egocentrism, and rancor permeate every aspect of this representation, contaminating not only the private sphere but also the intellectual one.

Nor does the maternal branch fare better. The grandfather Raffaele Merlini is dismissed with Uncle Verde’s label of "coglione" (“idiot”); their mother Lucia is depicted as distant and self-destructive, consumed by addictions and repeated hospitalizations; Cesare Merlini is portrayed as pompous but irrelevant; Francesco Merlini reduced to a caricature, his homosexuality stigmatized with an anachronistic cruelty; and Gianni Merlini subjected to full-blown demonization, accused of being ambitious yet talentless, authoritarian, cynical—his rise coinciding, unsurprisingly, with the decline and eventual collapse of UTET.

Even “zio Verde” (Carlo Verde) does not emerge unscathed: behind the twins’ proclaimed gratitude lies an enduring resentment. He is blamed for the cold, bureaucratic way he communicated Massimo’s dismissal from the company, as well as for the opacity of UTET’s financial practices, which allowed him to secure ample compensation “without having to account to anyone.” And his kindly wife is mocked in a tone that oscillates between cruel humor and pure gossip: “buona e generosa, ma poco intelligente e priva di ogni cultura, capace di infilare ogni tanto nei suoi discorsi parole molto volgari… compiendo così memorabili gaffes” (“good and generous, but not very intelligent and lacking any culture, prone to inserting vulgar words into her conversations… thereby producing memorable gaffes”). The unforgettable climax is the dinner at which, in front of Cardinal Michele Pellegrino, she burst out with: “Mah! viva la foca, che Dio la benedoca!” (“Hurrah for the pussy, may God bless it!”), freezing the prelate into “a marble statue” (“si trasformava in una statua marmorea”) while sending a servant into fits of uncontrolled laughter.

The effect is not that of a memoir but of a catalogue of demolitions, a parade of grotesques staged with a relish that is less historical reflection than theatrical spectacle. No wonder the authors themselves confess, almost with pride: “ci rendiamo conto di quanta prepotenza di classe, di quanta razza padrona ci sia in questi ricordi e ne facciamo ammenda” (“we are aware of how much class arrogance, how much ‘ruling-class’ mentality is in these recollections, and we acknowledge it”).

And here lies the rub: at the center of this operation is Massimo Firpo, long celebrated as a rigorous and balanced historian. With this book, he ceases to appear the detached scholar and instead emerges as the complicit protagonist of a trash melodrama of family rancor. In Italy, the scandal remained circumscribed. But in the Anglo-Saxon world, where the adage “don’t air your dirty laundry in public” still carries weight, such a performance would be regarded as nothing short of a scandal—utterly at odds with the image of seriousness that Massimo Firpo has for decades projected as his scholarly brand.

If the book’s main intent was to demolish once and for all the memory of Luigi Firpo, the outcome is a poisonous boomerang. The fury of demolition not only sweeps away the father, but corrodes from within the image of his offspring as well—especially Massimo, who, from being a prestigious historian, now exposes himself as a complacent protagonist in a theatre of rancor, closer to trash than to historiography. In this carousel of accusations and recriminations, the true victim is not so much Luigi Firpo, but rather the academic credibility of his most illustrious heir.

Destruction, then, or self-distruction? The answer seems already inscribed between the lines of the book. And it is precisely for this reason that we chose to translate our review into English: a story so saturated with contradictions, involving a scholar of international renown, cannot remain confined to Italy, but deserves to be subjected to the scrutiny of a wider scholarly community.

N. B. This text is the English translation of the article "(Auto)Distruzione di uno studioso", originally published in Italian on August 30, 2025 (https://www.cantierestoricofilologico.it/2025/08/autodistruzione-di-uno-studioso.html)