VENICE, Italy >> As subversive books go, many of the 49 children’s tales hardly seem seditious.

There is the story of the male dog who aspired to be a ballerina. The one about the little boy who wanted to be a princess, and a princess who wanted to be a soccer player. The tale of the penguin egg hatched and adopted by two male penguins (based on a real story at the Central Park Zoo in New York). And another about a little boy who learns to live with a physical disability, metaphorically depicted as a little saucepan that bangs around in his wake.

Yet one of the first formal acts of Venice’s new conservative mayor, Luigi Brugnaro, was to announce that he would ban them from the city’s preschool libraries. After an outcry — from residents, authors, publishers, librarian associations and even Amnesty International — he whittled his list of banned books to just two.

But that was not before the mayor had ignited a lively debate about the right of educators to choose their teaching tools without political interference, and about Italy’s continuing struggle with broadening civil rights for gays.

The two banned books touch on same-sex families living happily ever after. It only inflamed matters further when some national news outlets dismissively referred to the titles as “gay fairy tales.”

Despite years of lobbying and chiding by human rights organizations and interest groups, Italy has struggled to pass laws condemning homophobia. It is still one of the few major European countries that does not legally recognize same-sex unions, leaving it to a handful of cities, including Rome and Milan, which have introduced civil union registries that offer only limited rights.

Last month, the European Court of Human Rights in Strasbourg, France, ruled that Italy’s lack of legal recognition of same-sex couples was a human rights violation.

For some, Venice’s book ban was the latest example of an Italy still struggling to transform itself into an increasingly multicultural and multifaceted society.

“This incident says so much about this country,” said Camilla Seibezzi, a council member for civil rights in Venice’s previous administration who promoted the books starting 18 months ago. She quickly became the object of death threats and protest marches organized by right-wing groups.

Before the ban, many of the children’s books had already lived on school shelves for years without creating a fuss. Then they were put together on a reading list by a panel of university professors and preschool experts to help preschool educators fight prejudices and stereotypes.

In a recent interview, Brugnaro, 53, was unapologetic. A successful businessman who ran on a center-right civic slate and turned to politics this year because he “wanted to look after” his city, he lost no time making headlines in the two months since his election.

He has called for a naval blockade to stop migrants, toyed with the idea of limiting access to St. Mark’s Square and armed the city’s municipal police force. “We have 20 million visitors a year here. They have to feel secure walking around,” he said.

The book ban, he said, was the fulfillment of an electoral pledge and a firm response to the “cultural arrogance” of the previous administration, which had introduced the books into the preschool curriculums without consulting parents.

“That’s just not admissible,” said the mayor, whose concern, he added, is that preschool children would struggle with some of the mature concepts that the illustrated books conveyed. “Of course I protested. What would happen if my 3-year-old daughter came home and asked me, Where is the other daddy?”

“Even today, you technically still need a man and a woman to have a baby,” the mayor added, arguing that some issues are best discussed within the family and not in school. “These books risk confusing children.”

Tracing the origins of the reading list, Seibezzi explained that education research suggested that such prejudices were “consolidated at 3 years of age.”

She added, “So we said, ‘Let’s start there,’” to foster inclusiveness and respect for others.

Seibezzi said she struggled to get the approval for the list even under the previous center-left administration, led by Mayor Giorgio Orsoni.

After weeks of discussion, the previous mayor only grudgingly gave his assent. But then he resigned in a political scandal around bribery allegations connected to a public works project for floodgates to save the slowly sinking lagoon city.

Most of the books — destined for the city’s 28 nursery schools and kindergartens — never actually got to the libraries and are still packed up in boxes in various municipal offices. The polemic made teachers wary, “so even those in favor were afraid to ask for them,” Seibezzi said.

Nicola Fuochi, a bookseller in Mestre, Venice’s mainland district, who was involved in the reading initiative, said, “It’s not a problem of left or right; it’s an issue drummed up to ingratiate the electorate.”

He expressed outrage that “children’s literature has become an arena for political collision.”

“Some things have to remain outside this realm,” he said.

Fuochi also noted that the country’s educational hierarchy had been notably silent, apart from an education undersecretary who pointed out that Brugnaro did not have the authority to ban books.

Civic groups, on the other hand, protested actively through public book readings and online petitions. One petition was signed by 260 authors who asked that their books be removed from the city’s libraries in a sign of solidarity.

Some saw the ban as reflecting ingrained Roman Catholic doctrine. One of two books that remains banned is Ophélie Texier’s “Jean A Deux Mamans,” or “Jean Has Two Mothers.”

Books that challenge the status quo are seen as eroding the church’s hold over social issues, said Francesca Pardi, author of “Piccolo Uovo,” or “Little Egg,” the other book still on the forbidden list.

Her book, the tale of an unhatched egg that sees happiness in various family configurations, won the prestigious Andersen Prize in 2012, Italy’s top nod for children’s literature, even as a popular Catholic magazine cited it as a book to avoid.

“In Italy, it’s as if morality is the prerogative of the church,” Pardi said, “and so some principles are never put into discussion.” A book that shows that there is “room for all becomes very threatening, especially because it’s told in a simple language that shows there is nothing to be afraid of,” she said.

The book was “breaking down a taboo,” she added.

“Education isn’t about teaching how or what to think, but to pass values,” she said. “Kids won’t become gay if they read a book about two moms, but they will be happier if that is their family situation.”

© 2015 The New York Times Company