Renzo and Lucia can neither read nor write: in The Betrothed (I promessi sposi) this fact has a decisive weight that, it seems to me, has not been granted the importance it deserves. Certainly, not knowing how to read and write is (or can be presumed to be) a common trait among heroes and heroines in many literary works, before and after them; yet I could not cite another great book in which the condition of the illiterate is so present to the author’s awareness. Renzo and Lucia cannot read or write in a world where the written word continually confronts them, separating them from the fulfilment of their modest dream.

In the universe of Renzo and Lucia, the written word appears under a double aspect: an instrument of power and an instrument of information. As an instrument of power it is systematically hostile to the two poor betrothed: it is the written word whose use is held by Doctor Azzecca-garbugli; it is the “paper, pen, inkwell” with which the innkeeper of the Full Moon tries to record the particulars of his patrons—or worse still, the invisible paper-pen-inkwell with which Ambrogio Fusella manages to trap Renzo.
-- Italo Calvino, afterword to the 1980 Oscar Mondadori edition of The Betrothed

It’s hardly news—and nothing particularly original—to say that literacy is a foundational tool for prospering in a modern civil society. Still, I think there’s a real risk that, in these tech-driven times, we start treating it as secondary. When so many things feel automated—and when generative AI can produce text on demand—it’s easy to slip into the assumption that reading and writing no longer deserve the same respect, time, or discipline.

But that assumption is a mistake. In my “AI mirror” piece, I described a landscape shaped by replication and sameness: a culture saturated with mimicry, where the safest move is to copy what already “works.” That instinct is, at its core, a form of cognitive outsourcing. It’s the temptation to delegate not only execution, but also judgment—because asking hard questions is slower, more uncomfortable, and rarely rewarded by an attention economy that optimises for frictionless diffusion.

AI amplifies this dynamic. The more standardised and structurally defined the output, the faster it can be replicated—and the more appealing full automation becomes. In that context, literacy is not a quaint legacy skill; it’s what keeps you from becoming passive in front of language that “just happens.” It’s the difference between being able to formulate your own reasoning and simply selecting from pre-packaged options, between understanding a text and merely consuming it.

Beware, then, of the comforting idea that literacy can be delegated to a machine. If everything can be made out of thin air, the differentiator isn’t the act of generating words—it’s the ability to think through them, to test them, to shape them into meaning. Literacy is more paramount than it has ever been.

First published in 1827, The Betrothed is Alessandro Manzoni’s landmark historical novel, often regarded as a foundation text of modern Italian prose.
Set in 17th-century Lombardy amid oppression, famine, and plague, it follows Renzo and Lucia’s attempt to marry—turning a private love story into a vast moral and political anatomy of power.

Italo Calvino (1923–1985) was one of the most influential Italian writers of the twentieth century, celebrated for fiction that fuses intellectual rigor with play, paradox, and crystalline style.

From neorealist beginnings to boldly experimental works, he reimagined what the novel could do—making him a key reference point for modern European literature.

Following, the original Italian version.

Renzo e Lucia non sanno né leggere né scrivere: nei Promessi Sposi questo fatto ha un rilievo decisivo cui non mi pare sia stata data la importanza dovuta. Certo il non saper leggere e scrivere è (o si può presumere sia) caratteristica comune a eroi ed eroine di molte opere letterarie, prima e dopo di loro, ma non saprei citare un altro grande libro in cui la condizione dell'illetterato sia così presente alla coscienza dell'autore. Renzo e Lucia non sanno né leggere né scrivere in un mondo in cui la parola scritta si para continuamente davanti a loro, a separarli dalla realizzazione del loro modesto sogno.

Nell'universo di Renzo e Lucia la parola scritta si presenta sotto un duplice volto: strumento di potere e strumento d'informazione. Come strumento di potere è sistematicamente avversa ai due poveri fidanzati: è la parola scritta di cui detiene l'uso il dottor Azzecca-garbugli, è la «carta, penna, calamaio» con cui l'oste della Luna Piena cerca di registrare le generalità degli avventori, o peggio ancora la carta-penna-calamaio invisibile con cui Ambrogio Fusella riesce a mettere in trappola Renzo.
-- Italo Calvino, postfazione all'edizione Oscar Mondadori dei Promessi Sposi (1980)

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Disclaimer

This post was not generated by AI.

Generative AI tools were used selectively as an assistive drafting and editing aid.