An Italian Education

Author’s note

My editor is concerned that I may have used too many Italian words in this book. I am concerned myself. Rereading now, I see there are one or two, or sometimes three on every page. Even the chapter headings are in Italian. Clearly I should say something in my defence.

My first idea was that I might offer a little glossary. But this would be no solution. For if each of the words could be explained with a simple alternative in English, then I would never have felt inclined to leave them in Italian in the first place. I have been a translator for many years and one of the most galling aspects of that galling job is to realise, on translating a word, that you have offered only a tiny fraction of its meaning, only an empty semantic shell, since so often surface meaning is nothing more than the stony outcrop of a great mass of cultural bedrock beneath. Thus, if I write ‘sacrifici’ in Italian, you will immediately guess that it means ‘sacrifices’, but unless you have lived in Italy you cannot imagine how often and in how many ways that word is used here, how it seals a crucial joint in the Latin mind frame, offers a vital stepping stone in the Catholic search for good conscience.

Our experience of another country is also an experience of its language, how similar it is to our own, how different. It once occurred to me that one way to talk about Italy would be simply to make a list of all those Italian words that are untranslatable, or whose translation tells you next to nothing, and then give dozens of anecdotes showing how they are used. I never got round to that. I’m not meticulous enough. But something of the project remains, in Italian Neighbours first, and now in this book dedicated to my children, my foreign children. For when my daughter exclaims ‘O la Madonna!’, or my son sticks out two fingers of each hand and whispers ‘Facciamo le corna’, it would seem superfluous to translate the first, while to write, ‘Let’s make horns’ for the second isn’t going to help anyone. This is language that has to be savoured, discovered, enjoyed. Dubbed movies are always disappointing.

Professionals in the publishing world have warned me that people don’t want to read any word they’ve never seen before, or deal with any concepts they’re not familiar with. I’m not convinced. I think when you’ve got the hang of expressions like facciamo le corna and tengo famiglia you’re going to have a lot of fun with them. Mutter them to yourselves every day at the appropriate moments and you are guaranteed to feel, if only slightly, Italian. Anyhow, for those willing to make this small sacrificio I promise not to leave you out in the cold, if only because not being in the cold but becoming part of a privileged group, a family, is precisely what any Italian education is all about.