Love can only be freedom

Antonio Ferrara, Mia
Gender-based violence has always filled the pages of books and novels. One need only think of Shakespeare’s Othello, in which Desdemona is killed by her husband because he suspects her of adultery. However, while in the past the topic was treated almost exclusively for its dramatic potential, today the approach has changed: literary works addressing gender-based violence do so not only for entertainment but, above all, to inform and raise awareness.

In this context, in 2013, Settenove was founded (its name refers to 1979, the year the United Nations adopted the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women), a publishing house entirely dedicated to the prevention of gender-based violence, with particular attention to literature for children and adolescents. Among Settenove’s catalog is Mia, a book by Antonio Ferrara written for and about young people.

Cesare and Stella are 15 years old and in love; their lives revolve around school, friends, and outings together—at least for her. For Cesare, however, nothing in the world matters except Stella. It is he who tells the story, through scattered memories, tracing the stages of their relationship, revealing from the very beginning a toxic relationship and a completely distorted idea of love. Cesare sees his girlfriend not as a person with her own dreams, aspirations, and interests, but as his property, a tool through which he can construct an image of himself he cannot form alone. Yet, although Cesare reconstructs the key episodes of his own emotional miseducation, culminating in femicide, the book remains Stella’s story. She had understood, she had been warned by friends, protected by her sister and parents, but she could not save herself because individual efforts can only go so far without institutional support.

Mia is a book for young people, about young people, and, in a certain sense, also created with young people. The project originated from a series of writing workshops on emotions that Antonio Ferrara held in fifteen middle and high schools in Italy and abroad. Participants were asked to imagine themselves as victims of any form of abuse and to describe their feelings. Thus, Mia is not a true story, but a synthesis of many possible real stories, filtered and reworked by the author—experienced directly, indirectly, or even imagined—but rooted in reality.

In fact, in mid-2024, the report I giovani e la violenza di genere was published by the Criminal Analysis Service of Criminalpol, revealing that the issue is particularly felt among minors (approximately 32,000 participants aged 14 to 18), and that the phenomenon is perceived by girls three times more than by boys. This is yet another demonstration of the need to introduce emotional education programs accessible from an early age, to learn to understand, express, and manage emotions. Ideally, this should also include programs for adults, because certain behaviors never develop in a vacuum; rather, they are the repetition of things seen, perceived, and internalized within both family and societal contexts.