Reading the classics

Now that I don't have Franca to practice Italian with, I've been trying to do some reading in my new language. I tried to tackle I Promessi Sposi by Manzoni, which I gather is the pinnacle of post-Dante, pre-Ferrante Italian literature. But the prose is just too dense for my shaky comprehension.

I found Collodi's Pinocchio more my speed, no doubt because it was written for children and in Italian I am roughly equivalent to a not very bright child. Nevertheless, there are quite a few colorful phrases that I needed the help of Google Translate to decipher. I wrote a few of them down in hopes I can work them into conversation at some point.

Per esempio, Mangiafuoco (Fire-eater), the scary puppetmaster, is described thusly: “Aveva una barbaccia nera come uno scarabocchia d'inchiostro” and “la sua boca era larga come un forno.” (“He had a beard as black as an ink scribble” and “his mouth was as wide as an oven.”)

And when emotionally moved, the puppetmaster has the peculiar habit of letting loose with “un sonorissimo starnuto,” another term I like. (It means “a very sonorous sneeze.”)

As a side note, this original Pinocchio is—no surprise—far darker than the Disney version. There's the time when Pinocchio falls asleep by the fire and burns his feet off. And when the naughty little puppet meets the talking cricket who tries to appeal to his conscience, Pinocchio kills him with a hammer. Also, the life lesson the story emphasizes again and again is: Don't leave home! Don't ever leave your parents! That seems more Italian than Hollywood.

My other Italian reading is an edition of a popular comic about a Wild West lawman named Tex, who's able to solve just about every problem by threatening to shoot someone or thrashing him to a pulp. I loved seeing cowboy cliches rendered in Italian: “State ferme, o vi riempio di piombo una volta per sempre!” (“Hold on or I'll fill you full of lead once and for all!”). Or “Sergente, ammanettate questi due colombi” (“Sergeant, handcuff these two pigeons”). Or, to a group of thieving cardsharps, “È ora mettete tutti le zampe sul tavolo” (“Now put all your paws on the table”).

On encountering a man who has beaten and humiliated his own son, Tex clenches his fists and says, “Provati a toccare questo ragazzo, e ti faccio digerire tutti i denti” (“Try to touch this boy and I'll make you digest all your teeth”). And it works: after Tex gives the mean dad a sound drubbing, the other man instantly becomes a big Tex fan and mends his ways.

"Can I give you my hand--instead of a punch in the stomach?

Probably the most useful line so far is uttered by the evil mastermind villain, who says of one of his patsies, “Che perfetto imbecille.” Which I think needs no translation.