This song, the second in the show, is built around a pun. Peccato means “sin,” but the phrase Che peccato is used like the English “What a shame!”
The singers are Don Silvestro, the priest, and Clementina, the mayor’s daughter, who has a crush on him (which he, secretly, reciprocates) and goes daily to confess sins that she hasn’t actually committed, just to have an excuse to talk to him.
Continue reading Aggiungi un Posto a Tavola: Peccato Che Sia PeccatoThe Italian government (just before it fell) launched with great fanfare italia.it, the country’s new tourism portal, along with a logo which:
As for the website… oh, dear god. They reportedly spent 45 MILLION euros for a site that lacks basic features (such as an RSS feed) that we have come to expect from a modern website. It has technical problems which anyone in Italy who knows anything about the web (and that’s a lot of us) is gleefully (and ruefully – our tax euros wasted!) tearing to bits.
Given my own skills and biases, what I first noticed was the English translation. Here’s a sample paragraph which I did not have to look hard to find:
For having more precise vision click on “+”: in this way it will be visualized an historical period in the detail.
For having, instead, one vision of entirety click on “-” and the period will be visualized a large historical period contain more events. The period comes shown in the Timeline to the right of the zoom: the blue bar will increase or decrease the dimension based on your choice.
This kind of laughably bad translation, like the manuals we so often see with Chinese electronics, gives the consumer no reassurance that there is anyone competent standing behind the product (the product, in this case, being Italy).
^ Someone else in need of a good translation service. The title on this clip in YouTube is "Rutelli inglese maccheronico" – Rutelli’s maccaronic English. Maccheronico (maccaroni-like) is the term Italians themselves use for heavily Italianized English (or other language).
Until a few weeks ago, I might have said that my Italian was good enough that I could translate an English text into decent Italian – not quickly, but I could do it, in fact had been asked to do it several times at the office (we have an office full of Italians, why ask me?).
Then we put this supposed skill of mine to the test. Ross is applying to attend Woodstock School next year. The application form includes recommendations to be done by various teachers and other people at her current school, none of whom (except the English teacher) reads or writes comfortably in English. So the form needed to be translated into Italian.
I took a first cut at it, and thought I had done a reasonably creditable job. Then Ross took it in hand, and came out with something completely different. I realized that my translation had been understandable, and grammatically fairly correct, but probably about as funny to a native Italian speaker as the text above is to a native English speaker.
Around the same time, Antonio, one of the delightful people I met at barCamp Roma, commented about me on his blog: Cavolo l’ho sentita zittire e mettere in riga decine di uomini con un italiano corretto, ma inglesissimo! – "Cavolo! I heard her shut up and straighten out dozens of men in very correct – but very English – Italian." Okay, I’m slightly embarassed about the shutting up and straightening out (not exactly my intention, but definitely my character). But the very correct and very English Italian… hmm.
I stand before you now, chastened and humbled: my Italian is good, but I sure as hell don’t speak or write like a native.
And this is a lesson that many Italians have yet to learn. Just because you can read and understand another language well, and maybe even translate well from that into your mother tongue, does not mean that you can translate in the other direction with comparable competence. If you need a text to sound professional and persuasive, leave it to an expert.
So… I’m looking for someone to translate my resumé into Italian…
All this God-inspired romance is interrupted by the arrival of a travelling prostitute named Consolazione –
Consolation– with that name, she could be a denizen of Dogpatch! – who distracts all the men from their wives, apparently because it’s their last chance for an extramarital fling. |
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| Uomini, eccomi! | Men, here I am! | |
| E’ arrivata Consolazione | Consolation has arrived. | |
| Consolazione di nome e di fatto | “Consolation” by name and in fact | |
| Per consolarvi ho certi argomenti | I have certain ways to console you | |
| Prova per credere | Try it to believe it | |
| Facciamo un patto | Let’s make a deal: | |
| Se dopo voi non restate contenti | If afterwards you aren’t content, | |
| Sulla parola di Consolazione vi rimborso la consumazione! | On the word of Consolation, your money back! | |
| Mando il mondo in visibilio, tutti chiedono di me | I cause the world to …, everyone asks for me | |
| L’avventura a domicilio | “Adventure at home” | |
| L’ho inventata e sai perché | I invented it, and you know why | |
| È una vera vocazione | It’s a true vocation | |
| A nessuno dico no | I don’t say no to anyone | |
| E se vuoi consolazione | and if you want consolation | |
| Me la chiedi | You ask me – | |
| Te la do* | and I give it. | |
| Se per colpa degli eventi | If because of [by fault of] events | |
| sei più triste di un cipresso | you are sadder than a cypress | |
| e la sera tu ti senti | And in the evening you feel | |
| malinconico e depresso | melancholy and depressed | |
| se per questa depressione | If because of this depression | |
| il morale tuo sta giù | Your morale is down | |
| tu vieni da tu vieni da Consolazione | You come to, you come to Consolation | |
| e lei te lo ritira su! | And she’ll pull it back up for you! | |
| Un due tre | One, two, three | |
| UOMINI Prima a me | MEN: Me first! | |
| Quattro cinque sei | Four, five, six | |
| UOMINI Comincia da me | MEN: Start with me | |
| sei sette otto, chi è senza biglietto | Six, seven, eight. Who doesn’t have a ticket? | |
| UOMINI io io io! | MEN: Me me me! | |
| Si faccia pure sotto**, sotto sopra in qualsiasi posizione | Step right up [it’s done below], below, above, in any position | |
| L’importante è non dire mai di no | The important thing is never to say no | |
| E se vuoi Consolazione | and if you want Consolation | |
| UOMINI La vogliamo | MEN: We want it/her! | |
| Aho ve la do! | Oh, and I’ll give it to you! | |
| dialog: Toto’ asks what she’s selling.
“This!” she says, showing her breasts. “I only see a pair of zinne,” he responds. “What did you expect me to have – four?” |
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| Mi vuoi esotica o nostrana | Do you want me exotic or local | |
| turca greca russa o indù | Turk, Greek, Russian or Hindu | |
| Preferisci l’egiziana | Do you prefer the Egyptian | |
| Faccio tutto, scegli tu! | I do everything, you choose! | |
| E per te Consolazione egiziana diverrà | And for you Consolation will become Egyptian | |
| Tutankà tutankà tutankamera veniteme a trovà ! | Tutan[khamen]… [everything in the room] – come up and see me! | |
| UOMINI Consolazione Consolaziò-ò-ò | men: Consolation | |
| Tu sei l’ultima occasione | You’re the last chance/last sale | |
| Non possiamo dire no | We can’t say no | |
| Voglio la Consolazione | I want Consolation! | |
| La volete? | You want it? | |
| UOMINI Si! | Yes! | |
| Io ve la dooooooooo, siiii | I’ll give it to you, yes! | |
| UOMINI Consolazione consolazione, dammi tutto tutto dammi consolazione! |
Consolation, give me everything, give me consolation. | |
|
* Te la do – “I’ll give it to you” – to give “it” is used as a euphemism for a woman to give sex. God, however, has something up his sleeve to take care of this little setback. Toto, the (unmarried) village idiot, has been hanging about the sidelines of this scene, too dense to know what to do with a woman. God suddenly gives him the necessary knowledge, and he shoulders aside the other villagers to reach Consolation, who takes one look at his, er, talents, and closes the door on everyone else, leaving them to go back to their wives. next: Notte Per Non Dormire 2 |
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above: “Wild man alley” – with a shop called Angel Devil on the corner. Chiavenna
The US is full of streets named after trees, or simply called “Main,” or given numbers or letters. Washington DC is built on a grid of numbers and letters of the alphabet. I won’t even attempt to explain Salt Lake City. These two schemes reflect an extreme tidiness of mind, but have the disadvantage that they’re easy to mix up or mis-type, no doubt causing the postal service all kinds of headaches.
Italian street names can be repetitive, but at least they’re not boring. They generally fall into two major categories: history and geography. Geographic names can be of towns or geographic features in Italy or in other countries; Milan has a Corso Buenos Aires and a Piazza Lima, every town in Italy has a via Roma and probably a via Milano. There are also streets named after important dates, such as Piazza XXV Aprile, commemorating the official day that Italy was liberated from the Nazis. (In these cases, the date is always given in Roman numerals, which are also used in print to refer to centuries.)
Don’t look for Italian street signs stuck up on a pole on the corner, as you see in the US. In the cities, street signs are marble plaques cemented to the corners of buildings. When the street is named for a person, the plaque often includes his dates of birth and death and what he was famous for, so you can have a history lesson just walking around. Somehow it had never occurred to me that the Falloppian tubes were named for somebody, until I saw a street sign with the name Antonio Falloppio and the tag “anatomist.”
The historical figures named run the gamut from ancient Rome to Aldo Moro, but most of them are men. The few women I’ve noticed are queens, saints, and Maria Montessori (whose image was also on the last 1000-lire note).
The older streets nearer the city centers are generally named for older historic figures. The further you get out into the suburbs, the more modern the names, including some non-Italians. There is a via Washington in Milan, and I have seen several via Kennedys in various towns, and even a via Fratelli Kennedy (Kennedy brothers). Still further out in expanding city suburbs, recently-created streets have been named for Gandhi and Salvatore Allende.
Some streets are named for items of strictly local importance. Lecco’s most famous son was Alessandro Manzoni, author of I Promessi Sposi (The Betrothed), considered the first modern Italian novel. So in Lecco proper we have a Piazza Manzoni and Ospedale Manzoni, and every town in the province of Lecco seems to have streets named for his characters: Renzo, Lucia, i Bravi, Don Abbondio…
This piazzetta in Bellagio honors a former mayor, whose name”Bifolco” literally means “peasant”, but also carries the connotation of “yokel” or “bumpkin.” Evidently the man outshone his name, being named a Cavaliere (knight, an honorific title nowadays), as well as elected mayor.
I’ve found unusual street names in the historical parts of some towns:
^ “Mane,” in the sense of a big head of hair.
“Kiss(es) Women”
“Street of the Lost Maidservants.” ???
“Slippery Lane”
“Narrow Alley of the Gypsy Women.” I was misled by this at first, because in modern Italian chiasso means “noise,” but a reader corrected me.
And here’s an interesting sequence (yes, these streets actually are adjacent to each other).
First comes love..
…then a kiss…
…and over the rest we draw a veil of darkness…
What’s the funniest street name you’ve ever seen (anywhere)?
