The moment my kids were born, I knew exactly which books I will put in their hands once they get old enough. Given that “old enough” to dive into the magic of books is about the age of one, I had plenty of time to prepare my list. A young brain perceives the world through imagery first so at the top of the list were several stories, beautifully illustrated by Ondřej Sekora, Libico Maraja, Beatrix Potter and Sandro Nardini.

I wouldn’t have known those names if it weren’t for the wonderful invention of internet, allowing me to find the books I loved the most as a child, after so many years. “The Tale of Peter Rabbit” is the first story my mind recollects even though my parents insisted I couldn’t possibly tell, for I was just 3 when my grandfather used to read it out loud for me. While I remember the words vaguely indeed, the book’s illustrations by Beatrix Potter are imprinted forever on my memory. Just like Ondřej Sekora’s illustrations in “Ferdo the Ant”, Maraja’s “Pinocchio” and Sandro Nardini’s “Hansel and Gretel”.

Aesthetics means appreciation for beauty and a feeling of wonder. Parents and teachers develop children's aesthetic senses by involving them in the arts through introduction to works of art, music, dance, and literature.
I’ve always been obsessed with the idea that our kids should devour as much beauty as possible from as early as possible, and following a years-long journey of self-education, I finally learned why. From the last pregnancy trimester to the seventh year of life, the human brain is downloading information through observation and repetition, thus morphing from a white canvas to the future self that’s been thus installed. Whatever we see, feel and learn during these years of theta brain activity, this will later become the automated matrix of our subconscious mind. The brain processes the unknown using both hemispheres – technical and creative – and we shape concepts through words and imagery at the same time. To recognise and appreciate beauty in our adult lives, we must have been raised with beauty.

While I was reflecting on these ideas one day, supported by my Turkish coffee and homemade cantuccini, I realised that not only the first example of aesthetics but also the first life lesson my subconscious had hardwired was perhaps based on the story of Pinocchio (written by Carlo Collodi and illustrated by Libico Maraja).

‘Bear it in mind, simpleton! Boys who refuse to study, and turn their backs upon books, schools, and masters, to pass their time in play and amusements, sooner or later come to a bad end… I know it by experience… and I can tell you. A day will come when you will weep as I am weeping now… but then it will be too late!…’

Although I found Pinocchio’s adventures terrifying and I didn’t like him much, Maraja’s pictorial art was like a magnet to my imagination. Overwhelmed with fear but also with empathy, I would take the book again and again, wishing for Pinocchio to be less tempted by bad friends and easy pleasures, and more prone to responsibility and hard work.

The pictures were just so captivating; they made me physically feel the discomfort of making wrong decisions and indulging an idle life. Libico Maraja was clearly a master in portraying the consequences of being on the dark side in a way simple yet efficient for a young impressionable mind.

The ups and downs, the quest for self realisation, the hesitation between Good and Evil, the neat feeling of doing the right thing and get awarded for it at the end – exactly the knowledge children need in their first years. For me, no digital device or online platform will ever beat the old-fashioned paper copy with handmade paintings. It’s been almost 80 years since Maraja created his irreplaceable depictions of our childhood heroes and villains, so I wanted to know who was this man and what was the source of his inspiration…

Libico Maraja

  • Born on 15 April 1912 in Bellinzona, Switzerland, the fifth of eight children.
  • The name Libico, derived from the word “Libya”, was given to him by his father Francesco, inspired by the war between Italy and the Ottoman Empire at this time, called “Campagna di Libia”.
  • Soon after Libico’s birth, his father moved with him to Lugano, Italy, where Libico attended kindergarten and school and later studied journalism. The young boy showed his talent from a very early age, drawing cards and posters for the local community.
  • In 1939 Libico and his father moved to Como, Italy, where the artist spent the rest of his life with his wife Chiara and their two children. 
  • After the World War II ended, Maraja focused himself on illustration and worked on many masterpieces of literature for children, such as “Alice in Wonderland” (1953), “Pinocchio” (1955), “The Wizard of Oz” (1957)
  • Libico Maraja died on 30.12.1983, several months after his wife had passed away.
While researching Libico Maraja’s life and art, I noticed that for a man of such success the available information is surprisingly limited. For example, I couldn’t find a word about his mother or any of his 7 siblings, and I still don’t know who they were, where did they live, did the whole big family relocate to Lugano or it was only baby Libico with his father. I spent hours trying to find out at least his mother’s name but again, nothing. Then, the official bio stated that Libico owns his name to the “feverish nationalism” of his father so I was wondering whether someone was of Libyan descent. The surname “Maraja” is close to the word “maharaja” and is sometimes used in this same sense which, I wildly guessed, would have translated “Libico Maraja” as “The Libyan Prince”.
I really put a lot of effort to collect as many details as I could because I’ve always been curious about the life paths of inspirational people but even though my quest for Maraja’s past was not very successful, I am a tireless celebrant of his talent. My children grew up with these fascinating paintings instead of modern TV art, and hopefully their children will do so, too. Having those books on the shelves of our library makes me feel good and makes me feel rich, for the only treasures I care about are the sparks of human genius, imagination and creativity.

 

Woe to those who lead idle lives. Idleness is a dreadful illness and must be cured in childhood. If it is not cured then, it can never be cured.
― Carlo Collodi, Pinocchio
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