Once upon a time, there was the largest factory in Europe: 200 hectares of surface and dozens of kilometers of rails and underground tunnels. But above all, more than 40,000 people worked at Fiat in Mirafiori, and almost 60,000 in 1980. Now there are only 4,000, constantly under the nightmare of being put on layoff schemes which, in fact, are the antechamber to dismissal or early retirement. The agony of Mirafiori unfortunately seems inexorable, but even the most accurate socio-economic analysis of the decline of the automotive industry would not be enough to truly account for what has really happened in Turin in recent decades. Niccolò Zancan manages to do so, however, with “The Last Worker. Final Song of the Great Factory” (Einaudi, 156 pages, 18 euros). And the result is due to a narrative intuition that focuses on the human aspect of this story and which, in extreme summary, consists of a radical change of perspective.
The decline of Mirafiori is not told by a reporter or an economist but by one of those people who have worked in the factory all their life, have lived through periods when Fiat was successful, and sadly see the finale approaching. The narrator is anonymous but far from imaginary. Above all, he is a keen observer who with simple words knows how to describe everything that happens. He speaks so clearly that his story could, with few modifications, be a theatrical play entrusted to a storyteller like Ascanio Celestini or Marco Paolini. The personal story of the last worker intertwines with that of many colleagues. He stays in touch with many of them who have already been ousted from the factory, like Anna or Salvo. Most have been early retired with an incentive of about 10,000 euros. And at that point, the life that until then had been marked, for better or worse, by the strict rhythms of the factory becomes a gamble. Some have returned to their hometown and opened a kiosk, while others have lost their minds and lost money gambling. Almost all those who have remained living in Turin have to adapt to a life of saving and exchange advice on which supermarket is the cheapest. And despite the hardships, some reveal talents such as being a skilled cook. The few still in the factory are like survivors who feel the end approaching. Even less important details, like the lack of powdered milk at the coffee and cappuccino dispenser, seem to foreshadow that soon there will be nothing left in Mirafiori.
The bitterness of the present mixes in the story with memories of the past, which are not only linked to Fiat’s golden years but also to great disappointments. With Sergio Marchionne at the helm of the Turin industry, there were hopes for a revival. Once he was gone, nothing more was done. The few young people hired on call are sent away because a car model does not sell enough. And the last worker increasingly feels part of an endangered species. The noise of the assembly lines is almost no longer heard and, as his friend Junior says, this silence is the factory dying. On the skin of thousands of people, work ends but also an era ends in which, thanks also to those workers in blue overalls, Italy experienced prosperity. Without them and without the factories, we will soon discover that we are poorer. And also a bit foolish.
