Dear Reader,

You might find that you’re about to read a somewhat dull editorial, and for that, I sincerely apologize. I’d like to devote my few lines here to the articles published in this issue: they are all complex, take on important issues, and well-written. There are many points I could attempt to make, but I ought not do so here.
A major priority emerges from the special situation in which our magazine finds itself. Right now, Prometeo is similar to a boat on the open sea, encountering frothy waves full of promise, but also facing regular obstacles and unanticipated labor. Publishing is, in its own way, an old and structured world. Nothing is simple. Even this business, is hindered with deathly bureaucracy, an endless sea of forms upon forms to fill out…. And with the Web, comes our first digital copies. In addition to being the most momentous innovation we are offering our readership, the digitalization of Prometeo really is a bit of technological medievalism. I have nothing but wild admiration for those who still imagine and say that the publishing world is a great, open prairie where the race can be free.

Now let’s not talk all this nonsense. The publishing act entails a reality full of codes, pitfalls, tricks, bets, and rules that must be followed in the name of decency and respectability (or at least to avoid reputational blemishes). The support of a very valuable programmer, Mauro Corbetta, whom I would like to publicly thank here, has been nothing but a saving grace.

In general, despite the pompous rhetoric that circulates, I am coming to believe that the real, and to some extent denigrated, wealth of the Internet rests purely in its human capital. The people, their quirks, their need to know. And the naivety, as well.

All these characteristics are ones that I think inspire the reading of Prometeo. Our magazine has always sought to grasp the nodes (and junctions) of cultural development–those paths that arrive at the confluence of multiple trajectories, mixing languages and doctrines, a mission relevant now more than ever. For this reason, and, as an appropriate contribution to our time, we decided a few months ago to complement the storied print magazine with a digital and English edition. As always, Prometeo owes its successful existence to its readership, especially its loyal subscribers. And so, at the risk of producing a boring editorial (refer to paragraph one), I ask that the reader take a few minutes to look at page 171, the back cover. There, you will find a simple and neat advertisement listing the various ways to subscribe to Prometeo. These new avenues of digital subscription do not mean in any way that the paper version of this magazine will disappear. Prometeo will continue to be distributed in a number of Italian newsstands and bookstores. Additional detailed information can be found at www.prometeoliberato.com.

Regarding the contents of this June 2024 issue, the 166th in our history—and the first in our full corporate autonomy, I will say only this: we had three concurrent forms of bold contributions: an opening with the intense story of Mary of France and early medieval feminism, a very political commemoration of Giacomo Matteotti ensuring his tragic assassination does not obscure his militant stature, and finally, a scholarly and authoritative critique of deterrence, that is, a maximally divisive issue in this tumultuous present of ours marked by the querulous winds of war.

Happy reading to all,

Gabriella Piroli