The multifaceted topic of prostitution has attracted the interest of gender history since its inception and has given rise to essays and monographs that shed light on its workings and developments, focusing on different periods and on its legislative, political, and social features. As far as the situation in Italy is concerned, while the phenomenon was first investigated in the context of liberal Italy, with attention turning to Republican Italy only later, the 20 years of Fascism have been less frequently studied by historians. In reality, in an ambitious project of mobilisation and standardisation of the masses, Fascism instituted gender policies that powerfully impacted sexuality and, subsequently, models of femininity and masculinity too. Prostitution, with its accompanying discourse practices, emerges as a significant area of investigation for the exploration of gender roles and models in Fascist Italy. The complexity of the phenomenon and its various implications are well highlighted by Annalisa Cegna who, by examining documentation produced mainly by the Ministry of the Interior, contributes to filling a gap in the literature. Her book provides a detailed and in-depth picture of the regime’s practices of repression and tolerance towards prostitution, and of the institutions – including references to the Church – and individuals involved.
It should be stressed, as the author confirms, that the issue is far from confined to the distant past. Instead, it forcefully bursts into the present, challenging deeply rooted social constructs. As Annalisa Cegna highlights at the beginning of her discussion, the many questions arising today, along with the negative stereotypes afflicting those who engage in sex work, call for further research.
The volume is divided into three well-balanced chapters. The Fascist era forms the backbone of the entire structure, but there are also references to the liberal state and brief references to the post-Second World War period.
Starting with the Cavour Regulation of 1860, the author examines the legislation that regulated the sex trade and, with the help of an extensive bibliography, supports the thesis of a tightening of Fascist repressive practices. Despite reaffirming a policy of substantial tolerance towards a phenomenon considered ‘natural’ and, in many ways, a useful device for gender and social order, the regime did not authorise prostitution but permitted it while maintaining tight control over brothels and penalising clandestine activities.
Measuring the distance between declarations and practices, through Cegna’s examination, we see a blurring of the boundary line between ‘closed houses’ and society according to an antinomic system polarised into order-disorder, morality-immorality, virtuous women-corrupt women, lawful-unlawful. Likewise, hygiene, and therefore the idea of a healthy and incorruptible body that constitutes a fundamental quality of the new Fascist man, acquires a central position in the debate, as does the theme of homosexuality. In short, brothels guarantee the satisfaction of male desire (to which no limits should be placed), remove the risk of homosexuality, and confirm the regime’s double standards. Subject to health and police control via registration, brothels take on the contours of a ‘total institution’, in which prostitutes are deprived of their fundamental rights, including the prohibition of exposure in public places. A significant transition took place during the building of the Empire, which saw the strengthening of links between gender, sex, and race with the Rocco Code’s definition of the spread of venereal diseases as a crime against the race. Prostitution policy was then a significant part of colonial and ‘race defence’ policies.
One of the most innovative aspects of the book is the decision to investigate the brothel from the inside, with its networks of relationships and hierarchies, including those between madams and prostitutes. This is a field of research that is far from simple, due to both the scarcity of ‘direct’ sources and the social stigma of prostitution. Aware of the codifications and strategies denoting self-representations, the author proceeds methodically in her interpretation, observing highs, lows, and contradictions, and questioning the margins of choice of the subjects involved and their varying positions in the context under examination. Distinct cases of women emerge, along with the complexity of possible classifications and the desire to break with the categories of the dramatic ‘downfall’. The commodification of sex can be seen ‘as a work option, temporary or otherwise, chosen rationally, which at that moment represented the best opportunity among those that a difficult situation could offer, which does not mean that in a better situation, with more alternatives, women would have decided to take the same path’ (p. 125).
During the Second World War, the containment strategies implemented by the various countries involved seemed to give prostitution ‘important military significance’ (p. 143), but the measures taken failed to manage the situation. In fact, there was a growth in the sex market, which spread clandestinely beyond brothels. Italy was also shaken by an alarm about indecency and the danger of venereal diseases, with the phenomenon seemingly widespread in various parts of the peninsula subject to occupation, bombing, and worsening living conditions. The authorities intervened by opening new brothels but failed to eradicate clandestine prostitution. In this regard, the analysis of the situation in certain local settings, such as Cagliari, is particularly useful, as it allows a detailed and better understanding of the problems and dynamics involved. While brothels were on the increase in Italy, the approach was different in the occupied areas, where the intention seemed to be to limit the practice by Italian women to preserve the morals and honour of the nation.
Illegal prostitution, practised beyond the control of the authorities, remained the real enemy in the postwar period. Prostitutes working outside authorised premises were excluded from the franchise in February 1945, when the Bonomi government extended voting rights to women. Italian democracy thus took its first steps by excluding some of its female citizens. This was indicative of a legacy that Republican Italy would struggle to renounce. Although legislation in 1947 corrected this exclusion of illegal prostitutes from suffrage, it took more than ten years and the commitment of capable and determined women to remove the regulatory system of prostitution.