Pasquino & Co., The Rise of Roman Satire

Back in 16th-century Rome, a tailor named Pasquino made his mark not with scissors and thread, but with sharp words and satirical wit. Based near Piazza Navona, Pasquino was famous for mocking the political elite, the clergy, and ordinary townspeople alike. He and his friends would spend hours ridiculing those in power, unleashing a torrent of sharptongued humor. Soon, his cutting remarks found a wider audience on the walls of the city, and so began the tradition of writing on walls, still so common in Rome today. Pasquino’s legacy lived on long after his death. A group of his friends found an old, mutilated statue—possibly of Alexander the Great or another ancient hero—and decided to turn it into a monument to their late friend. They placed it near Palazzo Braschi, and the statue quickly became a platform for political commentary. The people of Rome started leaving satirical messages on small pieces of paper (pasquinades) on the statue, turning it into the unofficial voice of the common folk. Pasquino’s statue soon became such a successful means of political expression that Romans decided it needed a friend. So they found a colossal statue of the god Mars, known as Marforio, and placed it beside Pasquino to join in the fun. Together, the two formed a dynamic duo of ridicule, delivering biting commentary on the city’s power structures. The pasquinades were both humorous and poignant, filled with wordplay and criticism, often highlighting the absurdities of political life. One of Pasquino’s most famous targets was Lucrezia Borgia, who, even in death, couldn’t escape his scorn. A message on the statue once read: “Here lies Lucrezia: daughter, wife, and daughter-in-law of the Pope.” Similarly, Pope Innocent X’s powerful sister-in-law, Donna Olimpia, earned the nickname