Alberto Bolaffi is remembered as one of the most important figures in Italian and European culture during the 20th and 21st centuries. A refined art publisher and a leading collector and expert in stamps, Bolaffi was instrumental in elevating philately to a true scientific discipline and an essential part of the history of images and documents. These small pieces of paper, whose usefulness has greatly diminished in the Internet age, represent a precious touchstone of almost two centuries of European history, faithfully reflecting its principal symbols and landmarks.
A moving biography dedicated to this great figure is truly worth reading for its historical importance and high narrative and poetic value. Written by his sister Stella Bolaffi Benuzzi, it is titled Un solo fratello basta (One Brother Is Enough), with a preface by Bruno Quaranta. It was published by Belforte Editore in Livorno in 2026 and has 109 pages.
Beyond its historical testimony, the little book—accompanied by a significant appendix of photographic images, handwritten letters, drawings, and articles devoted to Bolaffi—probably also seeks to represent an act of love toward her beloved brother. It is also a way for the author to search for the deeper meaning of two lives so closely intertwined through the many traces of their shared journey. The author believes this may interest not only people of culture but also anyone who wishes to ask themselves fundamental questions about the meaning of human existence, the joy of sharing, and the pain of loss.
Anyone interested in the history of our country will appreciate this work, which retraces history through the lives of two siblings. Having miraculously escaped the Racial Laws, they went on to contribute significantly to our country’s cultural growth, engaging in fruitful exchanges with other leading figures. The pages devoted to the Bolaffis’ encounters with Pier Paolo Pasolini and Laura Betti are particularly interesting. It also represents a deeply moving human testimony since the author shares some of her most intimate and personal memories with her readers, conveyed through a narrative of touching freshness and simplicity. The book begins with the final earthly chapter of the siblings’ long bond (“I lost my brother on July 17, 2025; he was 89 years old; I am 91”) and continues with their distant yet close beginning […].
The book is certainly permeated by the grief generated by this profound loss. In his preface, Bruno Quaranta writes, “It fell to Moses to mourn inconsolably the death of his sister Miriam. It falls to Stella to mourn Alberto’s passing. Day after day, searching for him and finding him again”. However, it is also an expression of gratitude for all that the siblings experienced, as well as their commitment to the Jewish people’s mission of testimony, trust, and resistance.
“Pessimism is a luxury that a Jew can never afford,” Golda Meir used to say, Stella writes. “Positive feelings are the pillars of the world, and love often stems from them. And love is life. I wish to confirm this with a glass of sparkling wine in my hand. Indeed, since biblical times, Jews have raised their glasses with the following words: Lechaim! To life! And to you, dear readers, whatever your faith, I propose this auspicious toast: To life!”
Stella’s account, Quaranta observes, appears to be marked by the question posed in Sirach: “Who can count the days of the world?” A promise of an infinite future, announcing, contemplating, and turning over in the mind that there is a time for everything—for tears and laughter, for mourning and dancing, for arms embracing and arms held apart, for seeking one another and for parting … What have the lives of Stella and Alberto been, and what do they faithfully remain, if not an echo of Ecclesiastes? Season after season, their family lexicon stood out like a compass, a lesson in style, a moral uniform that was never wrinkled, betrayed, or stained—like a duty.
Through a form of writing that is an indivisible intertwining of love and grief, Stella “gradually composes her Kaddish for Alberto,” Quaranta continues. “From ‘Baruch Hashem’ to ‘Lechaim!’ Recalling what Kafka recommended to himself in his diaries: ‘Even if redemption does not come, I nevertheless want to be worthy of it at every moment.'”
Francesco Lucrezi
historian
Translated by Caterina Mansani and revised by Elizabeth El Khoury, students at the Advanced School for Interpreters and Translators of the University of Trieste, trainees in the newsroom of the Union of the Italian Jewish Communities – Pagine Ebraiche.