When we talk about bandits and southern Italy, the first thought that often comes to mind is a prejudice: bad people, thieves, cruel, who live by oppressing the weak. We imagine a gang of criminals who take advantage of poverty, who live off the backs of those who work hard and want to live in peace, far from chaos and injustice. These stereotypes have become too deeply rooted in our beliefs, obscuring the more complex reality of a phenomenon that has its roots in a specific social context.
In fact, few people have ever thought, or think today, of brigands as protagonists of a social reality, as men and women who are the product of an era of oppression and injustice. What is often ignored is that brigands were a consequence of a society in turmoil, of a territory suffocated by injustice, of a palpable sense of oppression. The revolt of those men and women did not come out of nowhere, but from a feeling of revenge, from a real need to rebel against a system that had relegated them to the margins, ignoring their rights and dignity.
This is why I decided to write a novel: to recount what happened in those years, in the heart of the Italian awakening, when the country united under the symbol of the Risorgimento. It was an era of noble ideals, of social justice that arose among the humblest people, among the lowest. But this is only part of the truth. Hidden in the folds of history are unexpected twists and turns, often forgotten or censored, and it is precisely the lives of these people, the many victims of an era of great turmoil, that tell me that history is not written only with official victories and so-called great deeds. History, at times, is made up of simple, everyday lives, of people who fought for bread and freedom, but who were often overwhelmed by the whirlwind of events.
My intention is to bring order to those events, especially in Basilicata, a land that experienced those years with intensity. I want to invite the reader to see through the eyes of those who were oppressed, to discover the most human side of this turbulent period. Through words, I want to make us reflect on the fact that official history is always written by the victors, on the backs of those who lived and suffered. The lives of ordinary people, their dreams and their sufferings, are often the silent voices that are lost in the official narrative. Yet it is precisely they who tell the true essence of that time, which allows us to understand what it means to be part of a people who struggle, even if history limits itself to celebrating only the victors.
I want to invite the reader to look beyond stereotypes, to listen to those voices that tell us about an Italy made up of struggles and injustices, but also of hope and humanity. Only in this way can we fully grasp the meaning of those complex moments and perhaps understand how important it is to listen to and respect the stories of those who often lived on the margins of official history.
