Becoming Italian Word by Word

Marriage, Italian Style

 

Matrimonio all’italiana  

Contributing bloggista Silvia Bascelli, whose daughter recently married, volunteered to take us inside the planning for an Italian matrimonio (which translates as both marriage or wedding). Her original, more expansive Italian version will appear on my LA BELLA LINGUA website. Here is my English adaptation: 

Italians use the expression “fare le nozze con i fichi secchi" (make a wedding with dry figs) for an attempt to accomplish something without spending what is necessary. It certainly takes a lot more than dry figs to organize un matrimonio italiano, including a great deal of time and quasi sempre moltissimo denaro (almost always lots and lots of money). Since most Italians are Catholic,weddings in Italy typically take place in church. 

Even those who are religious only in a superficial way often choose a matrimonio cattolico (Catholic wedding) for the sake of the atmosphere created by a church setting. Couples may search for months for una chiesetta di particolare bellezza (a little church of special beauty). Fortunately, Italy is full of these. 

I matrimoni civili (civil marriages), which take place in town halls and are celebrated by a mayor or one of his deputies, are becoming more frequent. Recently quasi tutti i comuni (almost all the communes or local governments), in order to make a civil ceremony as beautiful as one in a church, have started to provide a setting di particolare bellezza (of special beauty), such as a villa or a palazzo that is the property of the commune. 

Couples also must choose a restaurant for il pranzo o la cena di nozze (the wedding lunch or dinner) or il ricevimento (the reception). But before doing so, they must deal with an argomento spinoso e fondamentale (a thorny but essential issue): la lista degli invitati (the invitation list). 

Since most of the expenses in a traditional wedding depend on the number of guests, there may be a struggle between the desire not to squander a fortune simply for a party and the desire to share the joyous event with tutti i parenti e gli amici (all the relatives and friends). In most of Italy gli invitati (the invitees) number at least cento (one hundred); this may rise to duecento e piu' (two hundred or more). Some consider a big, lavish party a sign of social prestige and status. 

Often couples try to set off with a simple plan and then, as always happens, end up spending a great deal of money. “Non si bada a spese!” (Don’t worry about expenses!”) they may hear—or tell each other. To make matters worse, various merchants, at the sound of the word "matrimonio," feel authorized to jack up the prices of everything they supply. A dress that could cost, for example, 500 euro, ends up costing 2000 euro just because it’s white and worn as an abito da sposa (wedding dress).

 E cosi' tutto il resto.(And so it goes with all the rest.)

Words and Expressions 

anello di fidanzamento – engagement ring 

“Mi vuoi sposare?” – Will you marry me? 

matrimonio d’amore -- love match  

matrimonio d’interesse -- marriage of convenience 

matrimonio combinato – arranged marriage 

chiedere in matrimonio – ask in marriage 

letto matrimoniale – double bed 

Tra moglie e marito non mettere il dito -- Don't put a finger (meddle) between a husband and his wife. 

Here are some scenes of Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni in the glorious Matrimonio all'Italiana.

Giving Thanks in the Italian Language

Grazie 

Thank you

Italians don’t observe the all-American holiday of thanksgiving (la festa del ringraziamento). There are Italian words, but no cultural equivalents for the Pilgrim fathers (padri pellegrini) and the American Indians (Amerindi) who came together to celebrate the harvest (il raccolto) in the new world (il Nuovo Mondo). Italians do eat turkey (tacchino) and pumpkin (zucca) but not in the traditional way (modo tradizionale) that Americans prepare them on Thanksgiving.

At this time of expressing gratitudine, I would like to thank (ringraziare) all of you—tanti! (so many)--who have visited my website, followed my blog, or read La Bella Lingua: My Love Affair with Italian, the World’s Most Enchanting Language (now in its third printing). Since they went live earlier this year, www.becomingitalian.com and  www.becomingitalianwordbyword.typepad.com have attracted some 80,000 visits. My blog on Italian ranks in the top .07 percent of all blogs and #16 on a recent list of the top 100 blogs on Italy.  

And so I say  grazie (thanks), grazie infinite (many thanks), grazie mille (thanks a thousand, literally, but it translates as thanks a million), molte grazie (thank you very much), and grazie di cuore (thanks from the heart).

 Italian appreciation (like everything else) becomes more effusive on paper. If you are writing a lettera di ringraziamento (a thank-you letter) for a gift, a meal, or a kindness, you might use phrases such as: 

 *Non so come ringraziarLa. -- I don’t know how to thank you (formal) 

*Grazie per la squisita ospitalità -- thank you for your exquisite hospitality 

*Grazie infinite per la Sua (formal)/ tua (informal) gentilezza -- thank you for your kindness 

*La ringrazio per tutto quello che ha fatto per me -- thank you for all that you have done for me. (formal) 

 *Il più affettuoso grazie per...la cena, il regalo, ecc -- most affectionate thanks for…the dinner, the gift, etc. 

*Le porgo i miei più sentiti ringraziamenti -- I profer to you my most heartfelt thanks (formal) 

*Non trovo parole per dirLe quanto ci ha fatto piacere -- I cannot find the words to tell you how much pleasure it gave me 

 So what do you say when someone thanks you? Here are some options: 

*Prego -- My pleasure 

*Di niente -- It’s nothing 

*Grazie a Lei -- Thanks to you (formal) 

*Non c’è di che -- Not at all 

*Ma immaginati!  Ma figurati! -- That’s all right (literally, imagine or fancy that) –

*Non dirlo neanche -- Don’t even mention it 

*Non dire sciocchezze -- Don’t be silly (to friends) 

*È il minimo che potessi fare -- It was the least I can do 

*È stato un piacere -- It was a pleasure 

*Se posso esser d’aiuto un’altra volta -- If I can be of help any other time (don’t hesitate to ask) 

And then there's my husband's favorite: L'onore e tutto mio! The honor is all mine.

I owe a special grazie to geneaologist Michelina Santoriello Hall, who shares my passion for Italy and transforms Italian words into works of art, such as the image above. You can find more at her website.   

Words and Expression 

ingraziarsi -- to curry favor 

grazie a Dio -- thank God 

Grazie, a buon rendere! -- Thank you, I owe you one! 

essere grato di – to appreciate, to be grateful for. 

If I could show my appreciation in a song, this is the one I'd choose. You can find the lyrics on the youtube site.

Chatting in the Italian Language

 

La Bella Lingua in Conversazione 

 

It doesn’t matter how many Italian language grammar drills you do or how many vocabulary words you memorize. Nothing will improve your Italian more than la conversazione. The problem for most English speakers, especially shy ones, is figuring out what to say after “Buongiorno!” (Good day). 

You can start by introducing yourself. “Mi chiamo…” (literally I call myself) translates as “I am” or “My name is.” If you’re with someone, you’d say, “Posso presentare il mio compagno di scuola, di classe, di viaggio?” (May I present my companion from school, class, traveling, etc.?) “Piacere” means “Pleasure to meet you.” 

You can’t go wrong with the universal topic of weather (il tempo), which doesn’t just happen in Italy but “makes” (fare). In winter, fa freddo (it “makes” cold). In summer, fa caldo (hot). On mild days, fa bello (beautiful). On raw or rainy days, fa brutto (ugly) or cattivo tempo (bad weather). Some days c’è il sole (it’s sunny); on others è nuvoloso or coperto (it's cloudy or “covered”). 

You might exclaim, “Che bel tempo!” (“What nice weather!”) or “Che tempaccio!” (“What terrible weather!”) Or you might ask, “Avete sentito le previsioni?” (“Have you heard the weather forecast?”) Among the words you don’t want to hear: temporale (storm), diluvio (deluge or downpour), ondata di caldo (heat wave), tempesta di neve (blizzard), or grandinata (hailstorm). 

You can also exchange complimenti (compliments), such as “Che elegante!” (“How elegantly dressed you are!”) or, if you’re on a first-name basis, “Quanto sei bella!” (“How lovely you look!”) You might ask “Come va?” (how are things going?) or “Che fai di bello?” (What nice, interesting things are you up to these days?”) 

You could talk about what you like (“mi piace…) in Italy--the food (il cibo), the art (l’arte), the beach (la spiaggia), or the people (la gente). Or you could ask if your new acquaintances like sports (lo sport), movies (il cinema), or wine (il vino). 

You may enjoy the conversation so much that you decide to sentirsi per telefono (be in touch via telephone) or darsi un appuntamento (fix a time and place to meet). “Ti va di andare a prendere un caffè?” (“Do you feel like going for a coffee?”) you might ask. Or you might suggest that you vedersi in piazza dopo (see or meet each other in the piazza later). 

Of course, what you talk about doesn’t really matter when you’re just chit-chatting (chiacchierare or fare una chiacchierata). According to an old Italian saying, “le chiacchiere non fan farina.” (Chitchat or idle gossip doesn’t make flour—or gets you nowhere.) 

I disagree. To me, chiacchierare is one of Italy’s great pleasures, and I don’t even mind if people accuse me of being a chiacchierona (chatterbox). 

Words and Expressions

Ciao! (informal)/Salve! -- Hello! 

 Come va? -- How are you? How are things going?

 Bene -- Fine./Well./Okay. 

 Molto bene -- Very well. 

 Così così -- So-so.

You can hear these phrases on the Living Language blog. 

"Lo Shopping" in the Italian Language

La Bella Lingua in Negozio 

The Italian Language in a Shop

A lack of knowledge of the Italian language need not interfere with your ability to acquire all manner of bella roba (nice stuff) in Italy. “Lo shopping” has entered the mainstream Italian vocabulary -- as has “shopping terapia” (retail therapy). However, before you can indulge in it, you have to figure out where to shop for what. 

Here are some of the many varieties of Italian negozi (shops): 

calzoleria -- shoe repair 

cartoleria -- office and stationery 

edicola -- news stand, kiosk 

enoteca -- wine shop 

farmacia -- pharmacy 

ferramenta -- hardware store 

gioiellieria -- jewelry store 

libreria -- bookshop 

merceria -- knitting, sewing, laces, buttons, small items 

negozio di abbigliamento intimo -- underwear, pajamas, stockings  

negozio di arredamento -- furniture 

negozio di casalinghi -- household items (pans, espresso machines, irons, etc.) 

negozio di fiori or fioraio -- flower shop 

negozio di giocattoli -- toy store 

officina -- automotive repair, body shop 

profumeria -- beauty products 

salumeria -- delicatessen (cheeses, olives, cured meat products, etc.) 

tabacchino -- cigarettes, stamps, chewing gum, matches, and hundreds of other useful things, including long-distance prepaid telephone cards and lotto tickets. 

Department stores (magazzini) aren’t as widespread or as popular as they are in the United States. You’re more likely to find negozietti (small shops), often owned and run by the same family for generations. Opening hours (orario d’apertura) vary, depending on the type of shop and the region. 

Almost all shops close for lunch (il pranzo) at 1:00 p.m. and may reopen at 3:30, 4:00, or 4:30 p.m. When they are open, many shops post a sign saying “entrata libera” (free entrance).

Italians are much more serious window-shoppers than Americans. They carefully study the items in the shop windows (vetrine), which usually have the price (il prezzo) clearly marked. My favorite sign in a shop window is "saldi" (sales), with the biggest discounts in January and July.

When you enter a shop, the sales clerk (comesso) may ask, “Posso aiutarla?” (“May I help you?”) or simply say, “Mi dica” (“Tell me”—what you want.)  If you’re just browsing, you can say, “Solo guardando.”

European sizes (misure) are completely different from American ones and do not translate exactly. In the United States, my dress size is a petite four. In Italy, it’s a gargantuan-sounding 40 or 42. So before I buy a dress (vestito da donna), skirt (gonna), jacket (giacca), or a pair of slacks (pantaloni), I always ask if I can try it on (“Posso provarlo?”). 

 Sometimes the item is too big (troppo grande), small (piccolo), short (corto), long (lungo), tight (stretto), loose (largo), dark (scuro), light (chiaro)—or just too expensive (troppo caro). I may ask for something cheaper (meno caro) or of better quality (di migliore qualità). 

When I find something that suits me (mi sta bene), I ask how much it costs (“quanto costa?”) and if I can use my credit card (carta di credito).  “I’ll take it” (“Lo prendo”), I say when I’ve made my decision. And because it’s very important to have a receipt for every purchase in Italy, I ask for one more thing: lo scontrino. 

Words and Expressions 

Before you go shopping, brush up on the following essential phrases. 

Posso aiutarla? -- Can I help you? 

Vorrei questo. -- I would like this. 

Quanto costa? -- How much does it cost? 

Quanto costano? -- How much do they cost? 

You can hear these phrases on the Living Language blog. 

The Italian Language in Love

La Bella Lingua Innamorata

Flirting has long been Italians' favorite pastime, but the Italian language has no word for it. (Many today use flirtare from the English.) A Renaissance poet coined the term fare la civetta (act like an owl, based on that creature’s luring of birds into its claws with gentle coos) to describe a flirtatious woman. Others distinguished between a civettino, a precocious boy flattering a pretty woman; a civettone, a boorish lout doing the same; a civettina, an innocent coquette; and a civettuola, a brazen hussy.

A young man who va a donne (literally, goes to the women) may think of himself as a dongiovanni (Don Juan), a rubacuori (heart-breaker), or a donnaiolo (lady-killer). He might fare il filo a qualcuno (make a string, or have an eye on someone) and fare l’occhiolino (make the little eye, or wink), fare gli occhi dolci (make sweet eyes), or fare il piedino (make the little foot, or play footsie).

Flirts often use the same pick-up lines in Italy as anywhere else: "Vuoi bere qualcosa?" ("Would you like a drink?) "Non ci siamo già visti prima?" ("Haven't we seen each other before?") "Scusa, posso dirti che hai degli occhi stupendi?" ("May I tell you that you have amazing eyes?") “Hai da accendere?” (Have you got a lighter?)

However, Italians can be much more creative. Here are some straight-from-the-streets examples:

*"Mi indicheresti la direzione?" (Can you tell me the way?) "Quale direzione?" (Which way?)
 "Quella per il tuo cuore." (The way to your heart!)

*”Sei irresistibile” -- I can't resist you.

*"Sei uno spettacolo!" -- You are spectacular.

*Hai da fare per I prossimi cent'anni?"-- What are you doing for the next hundred years?

But if there is un colpo di fulmine (literally, the strike of lightning or love at first sight), a flirt may end up with una bella cotta (a big crush) and become pazzo di (crazy about) someone.A couple who perde la testa (loses the head) for each other may mettersi insieme (put themselves together or go steady). Un ragazzo fisso e una ragazza fissa (a steady boy friend and steady girlfriend) non hanno occhi (don’t have have eyes) for anyone else. 

Yet despite their romantic reputation, Italians reserve the words “ti amo” (I love you) only for the loves of their lives. Italian parents and children as well as boyfriends and girlfriends express affection with “Ti voglio bene,” which translates literally into “I want you well,” but conveys an entire universe of best wishes: “I want the best for you.” “I want all good things for you.” “I want what you want because I care so much for you.”

So if you see the initials TVB or TVTB at the end of a text message or e-mail, know that the sender is saying "Ti voglio bene" or "Ti voglio tanto bene" and likes you very much. 

Words and Expressions

Before you can fall in love, you have to make friends. Here are some phrases to use socially.

Ciao! -- Hello!

Come ti chiami?   -- What’s your name?

Posso sedermi qui? --  May I sit here?

Ti piace ballare? --  Do you like to dance?

Andiamo! -- Let’s go!

Vieni a trovarmi! --  Please visit me!

You can hear these phrases on the Living Language blog.

Italy's "First Fatherland": The Italian Language

la lingua italiana
the Italian language

As a country Italy makes no sense. Think of it: a spiny peninsula stretching from snowcapped Alps to sun baked islands, spattered with stone villages bound by ancient allegiances, a mosaic of dialects, cuisines, and cultures united into a nation barely a century and a half ago. Metternich dismissed it as a “geographic expression.” Too long to be a nation, sniffed Napoleon. Possible to govern, growled Mussolini, but useless to try. The real Italy resides somewhere beyond blood or borders in what former  President Carlo Azeglio Ciampi has called “la nostra prima patria” (“our first fatherland”)—its language.

And what a language it is! Italian, handcrafted by poets and wordsmiths, embodies its native speakers’ greatest genius: the ability to transform anything—from marble to melody, from the humble noodle to life itself—into a joyous art. While other tongues do little more than speak, this lyrical language thrills the ear, beguiles the mind, captivates the heart, enraptures the soul, and comes closer than any other idiom to expressing the essence of what it means to be human.

Centuries before there was an Italy, there was Italian. Its roots date back nearly three millennia to the volgare (from the Latin sermo vulgaris, for the people’s common speech), the rough-and ready spoken vernacular of ancient Rome, which gave rise to all the Romance languages.

The first miracle of Italian is its survival. No government mandated its use. No mighty empire promoted it as an official language. No conquering armies or armadas trumpeted it to distant lands. Brutally divided, invaded, and conquered, the Mediterranean peninsula remained a patchwork of dialects. Italian as we know it was created, not born.

With the same thunderbolt genius that would transform art in the Renaissance, writers of fourteenth- century Florence—Dante, whose words appear above, first and foremost—crafted the effervescent Tuscan vernacular into a language rich and powerful enough to sweep down from heaven and up from hell. This priceless living legacy, no less than Petrarch’s poetry, Michelangelo’s sculptures, Verdi’s operas, Fellini’s movies, or Valentino’s dresses, is an artistic masterwork.

Yet as a national spoken tongue, Italian, practically born yesterday, is nuovissimo (very, very new). Rallying for one nation united by one language, Italians won their country’s independence in 1861. At the time four in five of its citizens were illiterate. Fewer than 10 percent spoke Italian exclusively or with greater ease than a local dialect.

Word by word, generation by generation, village by village, the people of the peninsula became Italian speakers. Ever-growing numbers of people around the world are trying to do the same. With only an estimated 60 to 63 million native speakers, Italian ranks fourth among the world’s most studied languages—after English, Spanish, and French.

Why do so many people want to study Italian? “I suspect it is because Italy and the Italian language are perceived as beautiful, fun, and sexy,” observed Stephen Brockman, a professor at Carnegie Mellon University, in an essay called “A Defense of European Languages,” adding, “And why not? I can’t see anything wrong with that.”

Neither do I. Only a beautiful, fun, sexy language could inspire a love song like Riccardo Cocciante's "La Nostra Lingua Italiana":

Here is the first stanza, followed by a rough translation:

Lingua di marmo antico di una cattedrale
Lingua di spada e pianto di dolore
Lingua che chiama da una torre al mare
Lingua di mare che porta nuovi volti
Lingua di monti esposta a tutti i venti
Che parla di neve bianca agli aranceti
Lingua serena, dolce, ospitale
La nostra lingua italiana

"Language of ancient marble in a cathedral

Language of the sword and tears of sorrow

Language calling from a tower to the sea

Language of the sea that brings new faces

Language of the mountain exposed to all winds

that talks of white snow to the orange groves

Language serene,  sweet, welcoming 

Our Italian language."

Does your computer speak the Italian language?

la chiocciola
snail, @

    In an overheated Internet café in Florence I stared at the baffling tastiera (computer keyboard). Most of the alphabet letters were in their familiar places, along with extra keys for vowels with various accents. But what had happened to the essential @ key?  How could I send an e-mail without it?

    “Dov’è il ‘presso'?”  “Where’s the ‘at’?” I asked the young woman sitting next to me.  She passed my question along to her neighbor and finally a voice rang out: “Cerca la chiocciola?”

    No, I wasn’t looking for the snail, I declared. Then the woman pointed to the @ key lurking in the lower right hand corner of the keyboard and  emphatically repeated, “La chiocciola.”   A symbol that  curls mischievously into the shape of  a garden snail deserves an impish name, I realized—and in italian it gets one, which is enough to warrant a ☺ (faccina). 

    Once you’ve found the @ key, you don’t need Italian to be computer-literate in Italy. Words like computer and software have entered the Italian lexicon unchanged. Others, such as bloggare, risettare and chattare,  are easy to decipher.  When you cliccare (click) on a site, you find headings for ricerca sul catalogo (search the catalog),  promozione in corso (current sales) and acquista online (buying online).  You press invia to enter; salva, to save; copia e incolla, to copy and paste; taglia e incolla, to cut and paste. 

    To download, hit scarica—a new translation for an old word that dates back to the fourteenth century and can mean to  discharge un fucile (gun), let off vapore (steam) or, if used with a reflexive pronoun, relieve oneself in any and all senses  At most  Italian sites, just as at English ones, you toss  your selection into a plain, functional carrello  (shopping cart).  However, some offer a more sublime alternative: you put the object of your desire into un pozzo dei desideri (wishing well).

    Sooner or later the dreaded words errore del sistema may appear on the computer schermo (screen).  The first time this happened to me I frantically asked, “How do I say my computer  crashed in Italian?”  The answer, in Italianized English:  “crashato.”

Words and Expressions:

scala a chiocciola -- spiral staircase
riavviare il computer --restart the computer
masterizzare un CD -- to burn a CD
mandare un allegato --  to send an attachment
mettere in copia conoscenza -- to cc

Who knows what in the Italian language?

sapere  / conoscere

to know

    English speakers “know” everything—how to drive a car, long division, the folks who live next door, a great hiking trail. I “know” the Italian language, but I still have trouble saying how I know it. In Italian I would use the verb sapere to say that I know how to conjugate verbs or the year of Michelangelo’s birth.    But if I want to say that I know Sorrento, Renaissance art, or the local butcher, I need an entirely different verb: conoscere.  All too often I find myself scratching my head and asking the utterly Italian question: Chissà?  (Who knows?)

   Sapere comes from sapia, Latin for taste, the root of sapienza, Italian for wisdom. Several of my wisest Italian friends graduated from La Sapienza, Rome’s great university, pictured above.  They sanno (third person plural for know) all sorts of things, from how to play the piano to entire cantos from Dante’s Divine Comedy.   One of Leonardo da Vinci’s famous life mantras was saper vedere, to know how to see.

    It’s not just  our species of Homo sapiens (wise man) that is capable of sapere.  When I tucked fresh lavender under the pillows in the guest bedroom, an Italian visitor happily reported that her bed “knew” (smelled of) the flowery scent.  If you add fresh rosemary, a sauce will “know” (taste of) this flavor. And if something is not to the liking of you and a friend, you can say that it “non sa nè di me nè di te.” (It doesn’t know, or taste of, me or of you.)  

   Conoscere, which shares the same root as the English words cognition and recognize,  implies something deeper: getting to know a person,  being familiar with a city or country, becoming knowledgeable about a subject like music or architecture. “Piacere di conoscerLa,” (“Pleased to know you,”) you say when introduced to a stranger in Italy.  "Conosco i miei polli," (I know my chickens) an Italian will say to indicate that he knows the people he is dealing with very well.  Scholars strive for  conoscenza, which means knowledge or acquaintance in all senses.

    So  in Italian you would sapere the facts but conoscere the truth, sapere Mario’s address but conoscere his family, sapere  that Fellini directed La Dolce Vita but conoscere his films.   Yet you still have to be careful of what you think you know.

    “Sai la canzone ‘O sole mio’?”  a roving accordion player who had wandered into the restaurant where we were having dinner once asked. Thinking he was asking if I had heard of the famous song, I replied, “Si!”  Next thing I knew he had whirled me to his side and stuck a microphone in front of my face. It turned out that while I knew of the song, what he was really asking was if I knew how to sing it.

Sayings and Expressions

mi faccia sapere--let me know (formal)
fammi sapere –let me know (informal)
saperla lunga—to know a thing or two
sapere di vino—smell or taste of wine
non si sa mai—you never know
conoscere a fondo –to be thoroughly acquainted with
conoscere di nome – to know by name

"Making It" in the Italian Language

fare
to make or do 

    English speakers are always “getting.” We get up, get going, get angry, get tired, get fat, get hired, get fired, get groceries, get dinner, get dumped, get lost, and get over it.  Italians are always "making" (the verb fare, pronounced fah-reh).  They make questions (fare domande), make a job (fare un lavoro), make a shower (fare la doccia), make a party (fare una festa), or make a walk (fare una passeggiata). Because Italians strive always to fare bella figura (make the best possible impression), they like to farsi bello (make themselves look good or spruce up). Women “make their hair” (farsi i capelli)  while men “make their beards” (farsi la barba) or shave.

    “Chi fa da se fa per tre,”  a busy woman once told me. This phrase--literally “who does for himself does for three”--translates figuratively as “If you want something done, do it yourself.” And so in Italy I like to spend an entire day “making.”

    Faccio (first person singular of fare) colazione (I eat breakfast), faccio un salto (make a quick jump) to the mercato (market), faccio la coda (wait in line), faccio footing (go for a jog), mi faccio un panino (eat a sandwich), faccio il bagno (swim), faccio attenzione (pay attention) to the time, faccio presto (hurry up), pay a visit (faccio una visita) to some friends, and dance with my husband (faccio quattro salti—literally to make four jumps) under the summer stars.    

    Italians also “make” their careers.  A physician fa il medico (works as a doctor); a lawyer fa l’avvocato; a teacher fa l’insegnante; an actor fa l’attore.  But anyone can farla da gran signore (act like a nobleman), fare l’eroe  (be the hero), darsi da fare in cucina (make a meal), or fare finta (make false or pretend). 

    After World War II many Italians, smitten by American pop culture and fashion, wanted nothing more than “fare l’americano"  (dance to rock and roll, play baseball, drink whiskey and soda)--the subject of a famous Neapolitan song  “Tu vuo’ fa’ Americano” from the 1950s.  This scene from It Happened in Naples offers the extra treat of la splendida Sophia Loren dancing and singing (in English) while Clark Gable speaks fluent Italian. No wonder the movie became all the rage (far furore). 

Words and Expressions:

falla finita! -- cut it out!
farsi animo, farsi coraggio --(make spirit or courage) be strong,  stay strong
Non fa nulla! -- Never mind!
Tra il dire e il fare c’è di mezzo il mare -- (Between saying and doing there is the middle of the sea) "Easier said than done."
Chi la fa, l’aspetti -- (He who makes it, or wrongs someone, has to expect the same in return.)  "What goes around, comes around."

 

How It Goes in the Italian Language

Va bene.
Okay. All right. It’s going well.

    “Va bene” are two words you hear every day in Italy. Va translates as  “goes,” the third-person singular form of andare (to go); bene means well. Anyone you encounter—waiter, sales clerk, concierge, driver, guide—may ask, “Come va?”  (How’s it going?)  If everything’s going well, you respond, “Va bene!”  If things are not just good but great, you can say, “Va benissimo!”

    Things can go a lot of ways in Italy: contro (against), avanti (ahead), indietro (backwards), a rotoli (downhill or to the dogs), or a male (rotten, as in food that spoils).  If something appeals to them, Italians say that it va a genio or a fagiolo (goes to their genius or to their bean).  If they’re absolutely crazy about it, they vanno pazzi (go crazy).  Something that becomes very popular or fashionable va molto (goes a lot).  A friend asking  “ti va…” wants to know if you fancy or feel like doing something. 

    Italians vanno a piedi (go by foot) or vanno in bicicletta (bicycle) in daily life.  Other destinations are figurative. When Italians die, they “vanno ai cipressi” (go to the cypresses or tall trees, which often grow near cemeteries).  Another destination that angry Italians still send their enemies to is “l’inferno” (hell).  Less vulgar alternatives are  “vai al diavolo!” (go to the devil) or “vai a quel paese” (go to that country).  Or you could vai a zonzo (go nowhere).

    To this day, the phrase andare a Canossa (“to go to Canossa”) means to humble one’s self in a dispute. It dates back almost a millennium to the year 1077. At the time a remarkable woman, the armor-wearing, horse-riding Matilda, gran contessa of Tuscany, ruled over a vast state in central Italy from her castle at Canossa. After years of conflict with Pope Gregory VII, the German king Henry IV crossed the Alps in winter to appear outside its gates as a barefoot penitent seeking absolution from Matilda’s papal guest.  Gregory kept the emperor waiting three days below the snow-swept castle before agreeing to see him.

    The lesson the once-arrogant ruler learned is captured by an Italian proverb: La superbia andò a cavallo e tornò a piedi. Pride went out on horseback and came back on foot.

Sayings and Expressions

andiamo! -- let's go

a lungo andare -- in the long run

andare a ruba -- to go at a steal or sell like hotcakes

andare da se -- to go without saying

Vado e torno -- I’ll be right back

Chi va piano va sano e va lontano -- Who goes slowly goes safely and goes far.