‘A Sbumba, a Calabrian Satirical Periodical
The humorous weekly ‘A Sbumba, published in Nicastro from 1896 until the 1950s, represents one of the most unique examples of popular satirical press in Southern Italy. Its visual identity, political use of dialect, and highly expressive graphics make it a complex object: not just print, but gesture, outcry, irreverence embodied on the page. The very title, Sbumba, expresses in Calabrian dialect the idea of an explosion, a sudden blast — a perfect metaphor for a biting satire that spared no one. The graphic masthead of the paper visually embodies this concept. In the issues analyzed, the logo takes on a figurative form: the letters appear as animated objects, typographic caricatures, supported or stirred by grotesque characters, jesters, and mocking commoners. Sometimes, everything rests on pink paper — not a neutral color, but a distinctive one. It immediately announces the sheet as humorous, outside the codes of bourgeois press, and even openly provocative.
The motto at the top of the masthead, "Chin’a vo si vindi nu sordu", can be translated into Italian as “Chi lo vuole si venda per un soldo” — in English, “If you want it, sell yourself for a penny.” It’s an ironic expression, sounding like both a warning and a challenge: this paper makes no concessions, and anyone who reads it knows what they’re getting into. Another motto, published in the first issue in 1896, read: "Attentu, populu, Nicastru vara s'ogni duminica sta Sbumba spara," meaning “Watch out, people, Nicastro trembles if this bomb goes off every Sunday.” Here, the rhetoric of satirical explosion is tied to the idea of popular resistance. It’s not just about laughter, but about punishing bad behavior through laughter — as per the often-quoted Latin motto ridendo castigat mores.
Because of its subversive force, ‘A Sbumba was the subject of lawsuits and legal controversies. A particularly emblematic episode took place in 1897, when the newspaper published satirical articles against Francesco Bevilacqua, director of the newspaper Il Risorgimento and head of the local boarding school. The complaint led to a trial for defamation through the press, which ended with the conviction of the paper’s “director.” But who was this director? Often, it was a penniless figurehead — formally responsible, but with no assets or social status to lose. The most famous was Vincenzo Peluso, a shoemaker, listed as the responsible editor in 1898. This choice was not accidental: in a repressive system, appointing a poor citizen as “director” allowed the real authors and editors — often independent young students — to avoid legal consequences.
It’s no coincidence that the print shops — including Nicotera, Gigliotti, and Bevilacqua — explicitly distanced themselves from the paper’s content. Printing ‘A Sbumba meant risking involvement in lawsuits for defamation or insult. The printing press was indeed a dangerous space, and the printer, though a technical executor, had to protect themselves legally. A clear example of this can be found just below the masthead of some issues, such as the one from April 13, 1902, which reads: “The Gigliotti print shop, without assuming any responsibility, has agreed to publish the paper ‘A Sbumba using its own type.” This legal disclaimer reinforced the idea of the print shop as a mere technical service, not a participant in the content.
From a graphic perspective, the masthead of ‘A Sbumba fits — albeit in an unusual way — into the Art Nouveau (Liberty) visual language. But this is a reinvented Art Nouveau: not the floral style of postcards or salons, but a dialectal and caricatural one. The letters stretch, bend, take on anthropomorphic shapes; they blend with illustrations of priests, street jesters, and pacchiane (working-class women in traditional and flamboyant clothing). The Nicastro dialect, used not only in titles but also in the articles and satirical poems, becomes a tool of identity and a way to distance from official power. Through the popular language, the newspaper spoke from the bottom and for the bottom, allowing more direct communication with its audience. This bond with orality helped spread and make its messages memorable, reinforcing the participatory character of the paper. In a time when illiteracy was still widespread, dialect also played an educational and community-building role.
Today, ‘A Sbumba remains a valuable source for understanding the collective imagination, visual language, and popular humor of a specific region. Its masthead, its vocabulary, its real or metaphorical characters offer a vivid snapshot of a society in ferment — full of irony, protest, and a strong need for expression. Not by chance, its long survival until the 1950s — though with interruptions and revivals — shows a deep bond with its readers. A cultural and graphic experiment that, even today, still explodes with all the force of a sbumba.
Usually, when we talk about Art Nouveau-style graphics and printing in Italy, we think of cities like Milan, Turin, or Florence. But the case of ‘A Sbumba shows that even in a small southern town like Nicastro, something truly original and interesting was being created. This research helps uncover a little-known but important story: that of a southern satire that combined irony, protest, and graphic creativity in a unique way.
Sources:
The periodical press in Nicastro between the 19th and 20th centuries, edited by Filomena Stancati and Lucio Leone, published by Calabria Letteraria Editrice, Soveria Mannelli, 2019.
Interview with Antonio Vescio, director of the Documentation and Studies Centre of Lamezia Terme, conducted on 06/06/2025.
Original issues of the periodicals ‘A Sbumba and ‘A Fuarfici (1904), consulted at the Documentation and Studies Centre and available in digital format on https://archive.org/search?query=a+sbumba .
