License to Spell

In strike-ridden Italy, everyone, it seems, has something to protest. Last week it was the magicians. A score showed up for a demonstration in front of Rome's crowded Chamber of Deputies building, having abundantly proved their powers by finding parking space nearby (180 others scheduled to attend failed that elementary test). The petition they presented to Premier Mariano Rumor requested that one thing which magicians admittedly cannot grant themselves: professional status and the government-paid pensions that it brings.

By way of persuasion, the magicians threatened to hypnotize the police en masse, or, alternatively, offered to solve Rome's horrendous traffic problems. So far, neither suggestion has budged the government. The protest leader was the Magician of Tobruk, who takes his name from a childhood prediction of his father's wartime death in the Libyan city. Said he: "All we want is recognition, then we'll show what we can do. If they want spells, we'll show them."

One request that they did not make was for higher fees. The Magician of Tobruk conjures up for himself a reputed income of $1,500 a day. His establishment includes an eight-room apartment, five reception rooms, and two secretaries. Substantial success is common among Italy's wizards, who offer their clients counsel, clairvoyance and, at higher fees, "the art of magnetic fluids," said by 18th century German Physician Friedrich Mesmer to circulate in the universe, available for good or evil. Nearly every village has its specialist in the occult, and the Magician of Mon-tefredane, a small town near Naples, was wizard enough to get himself elected mayor. Occasionally, the magnetism goes too far, as in the case of a Milanese operator currently on trial for palming $17,000 paid by a noble lady to charm her lover back, a feat the magician was unable to perform.

Since one person's magic is another's malocchio (evil eye), Italy's status-seeking magicians are encountering the problem of union men everywhere. Solidarity is unattainable, because no magician will admit that anyone but himself and a few of his close friends possesses true powers. The Magician of Rome, for instance, considers last week's demonstration organized by his Tobruk rival to be highly unprofessional, though he agrees with its aims: "Too long have we been taken for figures of ridicule. We have waited thousands of years for professional status. We can go on waiting."

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