In this series of posts I'm going to talk about what I love about
Italian, explain how it has enriched my life in a number of ways (some
completely unforeseen), and give my take on how to go about learning the
language. I don't plan to do it in any particular order, reserving the
right to ramble aimlessly from one topic to another.
To begin, I'll suppose you're interested in learning some Italian. By
this I mean interested in learning more than just a few travel-oriented
phrases; I assume that you might want to be able to carry on a
simple conversation. How to get started?
If at all possible you should take a class (or private lessons), even if
it's just one hour a week. ``Teach your self Italian'' books, audio,
etc. are all well and good, but a class is much better. If you live in a
big city or a university town, the odds are very high that such
instruction is available. In the Seattle area, for instance, there are
many possibilities. For the last few years I've been taking lessons at
Percorso Italiano, a wonderful little school (classes are held in the
home of one of the instructors) five minutes from the
university. Earlier in my Italian education I took three quarters worth
of evening classes with ``Three Things Italian'', run from an
instructor's home in South Lake Union. Various colleges in the area,
including especially the University of Washington and Bellevue Community
College, are other possible resources.
The obvious advantage of taking a class is the social aspect; you get to
meet and talk Italian with all kinds of interesting people. For me it's
been a very rewarding experience getting to know Elisabetta and Roberta, the
co-founders of Percorso Italiano, and even their families (in fact we're
having them over for dinner next Sunday, as a thank you for their
incredible kindness during the worst days of my chemo).
On a more practical level, it's important to have an instructor who can
answer your questions and correct your pronunciation on the spot. This
brings me to my first nitty-gritty language topic: speech and
pronunciation. The first thing you have to accept--with any foreign
language--is that you're going to have an accent. You're going to sound
funny to a native speaker, and will inadvertently say funny (sometimes
hilarious and/or embarassing) things. As English speakers we are
accustomed to hearing all manner of foreign accents, and we smile at the
funny expressions non-native speakers come up with. Well, now the shoe
is on the other foot, so get over it! You can't hold back out of fear of
making mistakes or ``sounding funny''. On the contrary, speaking a
foreign language is like acting on the stage: speak up more; go
overboard; exaggerate; think of yourself as an actor. (These are all
things that I'm very bad at even in English, so for me it takes a real effort.)
For example, the ``r'' sound in Italian is a rolled r, similar to
Spanish. It is very different from the throaty English r (which English
learners often find difficult). But there's really nothing difficult
about rolling an ``r''. You just have to make the effort; exaggerate it
if necessary. Better to roll too much than too little! It's one of the
Italian sounds that I love. Another, perhaps my favorite, is the doubled
consonant. In English there is rarely any difference in pronunciation
when a consonant is doubled. For example there is little or no
difference in the way most people pronounce the ``b'' sounds in Abby and
Abigail. But in Italian, ``Abby'' would be pronounced ``Ab-by'', with a
distinct b in each syllable; an actual Italian example would be the word
``abbastanza'' (``enough''), which is absolutely not pronounced
a-bastanza but ab-bastanza. In rare instances one sees this phenomenon
in English, in words such as ``unnecessary'', where the ``n'' (but not
the ``s'') is distinctly doubled. Notice, by the way, that if one fails
to double the consonant here it even risks misunderstanding:
``u-necessary'' sounds like ``a necessary...''
In Italian such pronunciation errors are potentially embarassing. Two
notorious examples are ``anno'' (``year'') and ``penne'' (a type of
pasta). The words ``ano'' and ``pene'' refer respectively to an item of
anatomy and an item of male anatomy, where your first guess as to the
items in question will be correct. So if you're talking about the pasta
you had last year and don't double those consonants, you could end up
saying some very peculiar things indeed.
In any case, I love the rhythm that the doubled consonants add to the
spoken language. And if it's a doubled ``r'' as in ``vorrei'' (``I would
like''), so much the better! Then you have license to roll away to your
heart's content. The important thing is to make the effort. When in
Italy, you'll find that most Italians are very appreciative that you're
at least trying to speak their language, and I think also appreciate
that you're making an effort at halfway decent pronunciation. And be
creative, like the French mathematician who, while trying to describe in
English an animal he'd seen, came up with ``I don't know what you call
zem but zay look like Bambi''.
The best news is that Italian is almost one hundred percent phonetic. In
that sense it is easier than French, and at the opposite extreme from
English. With rare exceptions, if you hear a word spoken you can write
it down, and if you see a word written you can pronounce it. There are
virtually no silent letters, for example.
To be continued...Ciao for now!
This post reminded me of some research I read while writing my doctoral document in diction. The researchers were testing the idea of a "language ego," a construct which would explain why some speakers of a second language are resistant to acquiring an authentic accent. Basically, we feel like we're losing a part of ourselves when we speak in another accent.
ReplyDeleteWhat was interesting was the methodology of these researchers! Here's a link to view the paper: http://1drv.ms/1Bz51Qh
(You may need to copy and paste that link for it to work.)
Love,
Oliver