Italy’s postwar memory still echoes through the 1981 visit to Spain, a moment when the last political tremors from a failed coup lingered in the air. The renowned writer Leonardo Sciascia, celebrated for his piercing portraits of Italy’s darkest decades, reflected on the murder of Aldo Moro, the former prime minister killed by the Red Brigades. The incident embodied a chilling persistence of ideological violence and a critique of how some leftist rhetoric masked brutal echoes of fascism.
During that dinner, amid new acquaintances, Sciascia, a Sicilian master honored for his century-spanning career, urged Spanish writers who could be translated and shared with Italian readers. A young participant soon claimed the National Composition Award, a writer named Fernando Savater. Though Savater’s works had not yet crossed borders, a diner suggested he would be a fitting author to feed an Italian publishing house with Spanish insight. Savater would later become a leading philosopher among Spanish intellects, taking home the National Essay Award that very night.
Believing the moment carried significance, Sciascia began to acquire Savater’s books and engaged with the author early on. He subsequently published an introduction to ethics and supported more of Savater’s work through his publishing network. Savater would become a beacon for readers across Italy, Mexico, France, Argentina, and beyond, a testament to the enduring power of philosophy expressed in Spanish. This first encounter left a lasting impression on Sciascia.
In the Sicilian house Sellerio, Sciascia poured his taste and intellect into building a vibrant catalogue. Among Spanish voices he knew and admired were Manuel Vázquez Montalbán. Sciascia’s talent for recognizing new writers and elevating their voices became a defining strength, and friends in Sellerio’s circle left him with a tangible sense of literary authority—an ability to highlight merit through careful recommendations.
The Spanish publishing scene now gains access to works introduced by Sciascia. Libros del Kultrum has released a noteworthy volume for book lovers, presenting selections with editor notes that explain their aims and how the included works relate to the broader literary landscape. While the notes are anonymous, they carry the uncompromising voice of Sciascia, who did not pinch pennies when assessing readings, whether from Sellerio or other publishers.
The edition of this unique book, Leonardo Sciascia, writer and editor, was curated to celebrate the craft of publishing. The Italian writer and professor Salvatore Silvano Nigro contributed a foreword, translated into Spanish by Celia Filipetto. The project mirrors the editorial instinct of Gabriel Ferrater in Spain, who wrote analyses for several works by Carlos Barral. Nigro’s reflections reveal how Sciascia read with a critical eye, often revising reviews and preserving a record of his impressions. A glance suffices to see that this essential figure in 20th-century Italian literature used reading to illuminate a larger cultural project.
Why did Sciascia show such generosity as a reader? Why commit to the culture of reading works by others? The selection editor, Salvatore Silvano Nigro, answered with care over the phone. Nigro, a master in Dante, Manzoni, Bassani, and Lampedusa, described Sciascia as a generous man with a deep sense of humanity who sought out Sellerio’s books for future publication. Their relationship with writers and publishers alike formed a distinctive publishing ecosystem.
Sciascia as a polemicist, in the company of Pier Paolo Pasolini. He chose books that reflected his political and cultural battles, a stance echoed by Nigro who believed the selections became part of a larger literary project.
Among Sellerio’s many beneficiaries, the Spanish edition gathers names like Oscar Wilde, Stendhal, Alberto Moravia, Hector Bianciotti, Benedetto Croce, Bernardino de Sahagún, Gesualdo Bufalino, and Mary McCarthy. Some titles appeared with anonymous notes or reviews, while others bore the imprint of the editor’s own voice. The Moro case served as a provocative ironies example for those who read quickly and claimed judgment before finishing.
Negri notes Sciascia’s freedom to choose and his generosity as a reader. Like Pasolini, Sciascia embraced diverse writing with recognized literary value, even when it differed from his own tastes. This openness shaped his editorial decisions and the works that found a home in Sellerio’s catalogue.
Negri explains that the aim was to reconstruct Sciascia’s work as an expression of gratitude to Sellerio, and to show how the publishing house aligned with his spirit. Spain had long been a literary hub for him, which is reflected in the Spanish-language selections Savater and Vázquez Montalbán contributed. His travels to Spain in the early 1980s honored the Unamuno lineage that inspired him deeply.
Who stood as Sciascia’s Italian influence? Italo Calvino, whom he admired and to whom he would send drafts before publication. Pasolini was another reference, though trust could be fragile given the era’s harsh realities. Still, their friendship endured and shifted with time.
Sciascia valued craft in publishing. He believed publishers should be led by writers, a view Nigro attributes to his era and his own sense of editorial integrity.
Even after Sciascia’s passing, his legacy endures in his curated selections. The Sicilian master’s influence remains visible in his approach to publishing and in the ongoing conversations about how best to nurture a vibrant literary culture. The industry has evolved since his time, with some managers focusing on immediacy over long-term vision, yet Sciascia’s ethos still resonates as a reminder of the craft and care that good publishing demands.
These reflections about Sciascia and his Spanish connection echo worldwide, underscoring a shared devotion to books and the people who bring them to life across borders.