The name Soschino belongs to that discreet constellation of Italian Jewish surnames which scholarly memory has preserved only in fragments. Its sole certain attestation comes from the great inventory compiled by Samuele Schaerf in I cognomi degli ebrei d'Italia (Florence, 1925), a work that methodically catalogued the family names borne by Jews of the peninsula from communal registers, civil records, and rabbinical sources [Schaerf, 1925]. This single mention, rare and laconic, establishes the anchor: the Soschino are a Jewish family of Italy. It says nothing more, and it is precisely this documentary economy that demands the caution exercised throughout the present work.
To write the History of a lineage of which almost nothing survives is to accept from the outset the double constraint that Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi placed at the heart of Jewish consciousness: the tension between Memory, which transmits, and History, which verifies [Yerushalmi, 1984]. For a family such as the Soschino, oral memory has fallen silent; only the archival trace remains, tenuous yet real. We shall endeavour therefore to reconstruct, not a family biography that the sources do not permit, but the historical ecology within which such a name could have been born, circulated, and perpetuated: Italian Judaism of the Renaissance and the early modern age, its communities, its onomastics, its Mediterranean migrations.
The reader will find here an inquiry that acknowledges its limits. Each chapter carries a marker indicating the nature of its knowledge: what is established by documentary evidence, what is probable by deduction, what falls within avowed hypothesis. Nowhere shall we invent genealogy, figure, or event. The name Soschino will be our Ariadne's thread through a world far larger than itself.
The obligatory starting point is the work of Samuele Schaerf, I cognomi degli ebrei d'Italia, published in Florence in 1925 in the collection of the Rivista Israelitica. This repertory remains, even today, the reference instrument for the study of Italian Jewish patronyms: it gathers several hundred names, sometimes proposes their etymology and area of diffusion, and thus provides a documentary foundation for any onomastic research [Schaerf, 1925]. It is within this framework, and this framework alone, that the name Soschino is explicitly attested as the patronym of a Jewish family of the peninsula.
Inclusion in such a catalogue is not without significance. It means that the name was, at the time of compilation or in the sources examined by Schaerf, a living or historically documented patronym within an Italian Jewish community — and not a mere graphic curiosity. The Jews of Italy had, from the late Middle Ages and especially during the Renaissance, adopted stable family names, a phenomenon that Robert Bonfil has shown to accompany the insertion of communities into Italian urban society and the structuring of their institutions [Bonfil, 1994]. A patronym such as Soschino belongs to this broader movement: the onomastic fixation as a sign of a rooted presence.
One must nonetheless measure what the document does not say. Schaerf indicates, for many rare names, neither the precise city, nor the antiquity, nor the descent. The absence of any development around Soschino, compared to the fuller notices devoted to great families such as the Luzzatto, the Modena, or the Finzi, suggests a modest lineage, little branched, or one whose archives have been scattered. This relative silence is, in itself, a historical piece of information: it situates the Soschino among the many Italian Jewish families whose existence is certain but whose story has been almost entirely effaced.
To give substance to this name, one must describe the world that bore it. Italian Judaism constitutes one of the oldest continuous Jewish presences in Western Europe, stretching back to Roman Antiquity, then renewed throughout the Middle Ages by contributions from elsewhere. Robert Bonfil has masterfully described Jewish life in the Italian Renaissance as an in-between culture: deeply embedded in its urban, humanist, mercantile environment, while maintaining the frameworks of Law and study [Bonfil, 1994]. The communities — Rome, Venice, Ferrara, Mantua, Livorno, the cities of central Italy — lived to the rhythm of privileges granted and withdrawn by princes, of ghettos established in the sixteenth century, and of intense intellectual activity.
Within this landscape, Italian Jewish onomastics presents several strata: toponymic names (drawn from cities or regions of origin), occupational names, Hebraized or Italianized Hebrew names, and names formed through Italian suffixation. The ending -ino, which Soschino bears, is a diminutive or hypocoristic characteristic of Italian, common in family names throughout the peninsula. It suggests, without proving, a formation within an Italophone milieu rather than a direct importation from the Germanic or Iberian sphere. This hypothesis remains conjectural: only a dedicated etymological study, which Schaerf has not provided for this name, could settle the matter.
The cultural output of these communities was considerable. The Jews of Italy bequeathed illuminated manuscripts of great beauty, whose iconographic and scribal richness Giulia Tamani has studied [Tamani, 2010]. These manuscripts — Bibles, mahzorim, philosophical treatises — often bore colophons mentioning the names of scribes, patrons, and their families. It is through such marginal sources, as much as through official registers, that rare family names have been preserved. Nothing indicates to date that a Soschino appears in any known colophon, but it is precisely in this type of documentary deposit that future research might hope to rediscover the lineage.
The etymology of a patronym is often the key to its history. In the absence of explicit analysis in Schaerf, one can only advance hypotheses acknowledged as such. The sound of Soschino evokes a possible toponymic origin — a place, a village, a locality whose name the family may have carried at the time of its settlement. This logic of the place-name is one of the most widespread in Jewish onomastics, where migrations transformed the toponym of origin into a lasting mark of identity. It must nonetheless be emphasized that no certain correspondence with a specific place has been established: this reading remains an editorial conjecture, offered to the reader as a lead and not as a conclusion.
Italian Judaism was never an isolated world. It was part of a vast Mediterranean network, in which families moved between Italy, Provence, Spain before 1492, North Africa, and the Ottoman Empire. Lionel Lévy traced the history of the "Portuguese Jewish Nation" which, from Livourne, spread toward Amsterdam and Tunis, weaving a commercial and family fabric of remarkable density [Lévy, 1999]. Livourne, a Tuscan free port, was the great crossroads where Italian Jews, Iberian Sephardim, and North African Jews met; Lévy chronicled it down to its last representatives [Lévy, 1996]. A modest Italian family bearing a name such as Soschino could, in such a context, have known ramifications beyond the peninsula, without the current documentation allowing this to be confirmed.
To the south, the communities of North Africa — Tlemcen, Sidi Bel Abbès, Tunis — welcomed and integrated contributions from Italy and Spain, as shown by studies devoted to these Maghrebi Jewish communities [Botbol, 2000] and the local rabbinical archival collections [Archives rabbiniques de Sidi Bel Abbès]. The Livournese and Maghrebi registers constitute, in this regard, a privileged field of inquiry for anyone wishing to follow the trace of an Italian patronym through its possible migrations. The "intersection" indicated by this chapter's marker rests on precisely this: the tradition of an Italian name and the Mediterranean archive could speak to one another, but the file remains open.
Beyond erudition, a family name is a vehicle of transmission. In Jewish thought, the name is never neutral: it inscribes the individual within a chain, the shalshelet ha-qabbalah, the chain of tradition received and passed on. Léon Askénazi insisted on this function of the name and of Memory as founding acts of Jewish identity, where thinking about tradition today requires connecting it to those who carried it [Askénazi, 1999]. To bear the name Soschino, for those who did, was to belong to this continuity — however modest, however deprived of brilliant archives.
Armand Abécassis has shown how profoundly Jewish thought articulates the desire for duration with inscription within a lineage and a received word [Abécassis, 1987]. The patronym is one of the supports of this desire: it holds Memory where documents are lacking. For a family whose written trace reduces to a single catalogue entry, the name itself becomes the principal monument — a word that has crossed the centuries where faces and stories have been lost.
It is here that Yerushalmi's reflection finds its full resonance. Jewish Memory, he writes, has not always coincided with critical History; it long privileged the liturgical and communal transmission of remembrance over the scholarly reconstruction of the past [Yerushalmi, 1984]. For the Soschino, this transmitted Memory has withered away, and what remains is only History — a History that is itself nearly silent. The present chapter therefore belongs to the register of Memory in the sense that it honors a transmission whose content we no longer possess, only its form: a preserved name.
Situating the Soschino within Italian Judaism also means situating them in a world of study and the book. From the Middle Ages to the modern era, Italy was a major center of Jewish philosophy and of manuscript then printed production. Colette Sirat demonstrated, drawing on manuscript and printed texts, the vitality of medieval Jewish philosophical speculation, in which Italy served as one of the relay points between the Séfarade world, the Ashkénaze world, and Christian humanism [Sirat, 1983]. Maurice-Ruben Hayoun likewise traced the long trajectory of this philosophy, from its ancient sources to its modern reformulations [Hayoun, 2023].
An Italian Jewish family, even one without any attested illustrious member, lived in an environment where Hebrew literacy, the study of the Torah, and access to the book were cardinal values. The decorated manuscripts studied by Giulia Tamani bear witness to the place of the book as an object of devotion and prestige within Italian Jewish households [Tamani, 2010]. It is therefore probable — though not documented for the Soschino in particular — that this family shared the book culture common to the communities of the peninsula.
This intellectual horizon extends beyond national borders. Isaiah Berlin analyzed the modern Jewish condition as a tension between belonging and universality, between fidelity to a particular tradition and integration into civic life [Berlin, 1973]. Italian Jewish families, among them the Soschino, lived this tension in an exemplary manner: deeply Italian in language, name, and customs, deeply Jewish in Law and Memory. The Italian suffix -ino appended to this patronym may itself be the small but eloquent sign of a double identity inscribed even in the very sound of the name.
At the close of this inquiry, the documentary balance remains one of a single certainty: the name Soschino is attested as the patronym of a Jewish family in Italy by the catalogue of Samuele Schaerf, in 1925 [Schaerf, 1925]. Everything else belongs to contextual reconstruction, honestly bounded: the probable insertion of the family into Italian Judaism of the Renaissance and the modern age, the hypothesis of an Italophone onomastic formation, the possibility — undemonstrated — of Mediterranean ramifications via the great crossroads of Livorno and the Maghreb.
This Great Book is therefore, avowedly, the book of an absence as much as of a presence. It illustrates a truth that the Jewish tradition knows well: Memory can be reduced to a name, and that name is enough to open a world. Where the archive falls silent, the historian reconstructs the ecology, and the reader is invited to continue. Concrete leads are not lacking: the examination of Italian communal registers, the study of manuscript colophons, the consultation of Livornese and North African holdings could, one day, restore depth to this lineage. Until then, the Soschino remain what they are in the current state of knowledge: a Jewish family of Italy, a name carried and transmitted, a trace faithfully preserved by scholarship, awaiting its History.
