Brought to You by Orazio Antinori
Crazy-making and common sense collide for students of the Italian language
Cari amici,
My apologies for not writing last week. It was one of “those” weeks, and it piled onto the week before, which pretty much slayed me because of all the responses to my last letter. It seems quite common that when we move away from our native country, or even from one town or state or region to another, we do become “out of sight, out of mind.” I heard many sad stories and carried that weight with me for a while. So now, to lighten the mood, let’s make another foray into l’italiano and its weird and wonderful particulars.
By the way, feel free to blame Orazio Antinori, one of Perugia’s native sons, for inspiring this idea, because it was his descriptors—patriota, geografo, esploratore—that got me started. I often walk my dog past this memorial (photo), and one day it struck me that the varied endings of terms for occupations might cause some tearing of the hair for anyone learning Italian vocabulary. Then I started thinking about other kinds of inconsistencies, and this letter is the result.
We’ll get to Orazio in a minute. First, let’s dig into possessives. As you might suspect, English grammar is a lot simpler.
“The + my + noun” and other fun stuff
Italian possessives are weird, I’m not gonna lie. The baseline rule, if there is one, is to use both article (the) and possessive adjective (my, your, ours, etc.) when talking about something you own; for example, to say “my car,” it’s la mia macchina (literally, “the my car”), and to say “your books,” it’s i tuoi libri. Don’t get all bent out of shape about “the my/your/etc.” not being grammatical—Italian isn’t English, and there’s no point in driving yourself wild by questioning why this is done. it’s just a rule to learn and follow e basta. Va bene?
But of course it ain’t always so. Oh no, that would be far, far too easy. As Tommy Castro would sing (and if you want to shout about English grammar, go ahead and tell Tommy he’s missing a verb in the second clause here), “I’ve seen it all and I know it’s true / that you the exception to the rule.” So yes, there are exceptions, which are actually just other rules.
One rule pertains to possessives of close family members, where the possessive adjective alone will suffice, thank you very much. Which means that it’s not la mia mamma (the my mama), it’s mia mamma (my mama). Same goes for other family members—nostro padre (our father), suo fratello (your brother), mia sorella (my sister), tuo zio (your uncle), mia cugina (my cousin), mio figlio (my son), mia nonna (my grandmother), and so on.
Unless …
You knew there would be an “unless,” didn’t you? Actually, there are several. If you’re talking about plurals of those family members, the rule changes, and you must use the article as well as the possessive adjective. I know, I know, ma è così (but it is so), and please don’t shoot the messenger (ambasciator non porta pena). So, for example, to talk about my sisters, it’s le mie sorelle; your brothers, i tuoi fratelli; her uncles, i suoi zii. And so on.
Remember that last example (i suoi zii), because it’s going to come back to haunt you. But first, let’s talk again about singular possessive family members, because the rule changes for them too, when they’re modified. Sorry. So yes, it’s mio fratello (my brother), but it’s il mio fratello biondo/minore/alto (my blond/younger/tall brother). If you don’t think about it too hard, it kind of makes sense.
Now, back to i suoi zii. Nouns that begin with z and s+consonant take a different article than do nouns that start in any other way. For example, the singular and plural of “book” are il libro and i libri, but the singular and plural of “uncle” are lo zio and gli zii. Fine, you say, then why in tarnation is it i suoi zii and not gli suoi zii? Well, you see, and I’m very sorry again, but when there’s an adjective between the article and the noun, the article then modifies the adjective. (The easiest way to think about it is that the article agrees with the word that follows, which may or may not be the noun.) Given that suoi doesn’t start with a z or an s+consonant, the preceding article must be i. Same goes in the singular: il mio zio (NOT lo mio zio, even though, yes, without the possessive it’s lo zio [the uncle]).
I know you hate me now, but let’s look at one other exception to the rule, which is when the possessive adjective follows the noun. In such cases, we drop the article. So though it’s “la mia macchina (my car) in a “normal” construction, it’s casa mia (my house), sans article. In another example, to tell someone to mind his own business, you’d say “Non sono affari tuoi” (literally, they’re not your affairs), without the article because the possessive adjective follows the noun).
There’s also a whole collection of places that don’t take an article in certain uses (in farmacia, for example), but for today we’ll pretend those don’t exist. Instead, let’s move on to another crazy-making aspect of Italian. Here comes Orazio.
Titles and occupations
All I will say here is that these are seemingly irregular and you’ve just got to learn them. (I say “seemingly” because their differences arise from the Latin roots of the words.) Let’s look at some examples (ignoring the female versions because that topic is a whole ’nother kettle of fish), grouped by types of endings.
esploratore (explorer), ricercatore (researcher), osservatore (observer), dottore (doctor), attore (actor), scrittore (writer), direttore (director)
geografo (geographer), architetto (architect), avvocato (lawyer)
patriota (patriot), geometra (surveyor)
cameriere (waiter), parrucchiere (hairdresser)
camionista (truck driver), autista (driver), barista (bartender)
meccanico (mechanic), idraulico (plumber), politico (politician)
poliziotto (police officer)
postino (mail delivery person)
operaio (worker)
insegnante (teacher)
ingegnere (engineer)
falegname (carpenter)
segretaria (secretary)
Let’s leave it at that, shall we? You’ve suffered enough; now it’s time for something much easier.
Logical, literal compound words
Italian has a very practical naming system for many objects, which is to combine a verb and a noun to create a descriptive compound noun. In fact, if you know the word for an object and the action you’d use with it, you can figure out some of these yourself. And I’ll bet you can invent some words if you don’t know the proper term for whatever you’re thinking of, in which case I’d also bet you’d be understood.
The base verbs used in these examples are portare (to carry), fermare (to stop), asciugare (to dry), and attaccare (to attach).
Names for things that carry/contain other things:
portafoglio (wallet): carry + sheet or paper
portamonete (change purse): carry + coins
portabiancheria (laundry basket): carry + laundry
portabici / portabicicletta (bike rack): carry + bike
portasciugamani (towel rack): carry + towels
portaspazzolino (toothbrush holder): carry + toothbrush
portafiammiferi (matchbook): carry + matches
portafotografie (picture frame): carry + photographs
portapane (bread box): carry + bread
portabiglietti (business card holder): carry + business cards
portabottiglie (bottle rack, wine rack): carry + bottles
portadocumenti (briefcase, document holder): carry + documents
portachiavi (keychain/ ring): carry + keys
portamattita (pencil holder): carry + pencil
portasapone (soapdish): carry + soap
portafrutta (fruitbowl): carry + fruit
portabiti (hangers or garment bag): carry + clothing
Names for things that are stuck together in some form:
attaccapanni (coat rack): attach + cloths
attaccatutto (superglue): attach + everything
Names for things that dry things:
asciugacapelli (hairdryer): dry + hair (more often you’ll hear/see fon)
asciugamano (towel): dry + hand
asciugabiancheria (dryer): dry + laundry (more often you’ll hear/see asciugatrice)
Names for things that stop/hold things in place:
fermacapelli (barrette): stop + hair
fermacarte (paperweight): stop + papers
fermacravatta (tie clip/bar): stop + tie
fermaporta (doorstop): stop + door
Go ahead, make up some words like these and tell me how it goes.
A parting word
By way of apology for today’s extreme geek-out, here’s a term I love, a great example of how poetic Italian can be. In English, we make dogs feel bad about themselves by calling a protective collar a “cone of shame.” But in Italian, dogs retain their dignity by wearing something with an elegant name: il collare elisabettiano (Elizabethan collar). Same thing, different name. I say we all go with the Italian version.
Alla prossima—
Cheryl
© Cheryl A. Ossola 2023
Books of the week:
Davide Gemelli of Podcast Italiano has three free, downloadable e-books (on pronunciation, sayings, and reaching an advanced level), which you can find here. You’ve heard me mention his videos (a wide array of content), but if you prefer to learn in quick bites, he’s also on Instagram (podcast_italiano).
Poem of the week:
“Learning a New Language” by Gabrielle Ciarann Roniyah Baer
P.S. My book! Which you can buy here or on the usual sites. Another fab option is to ask your local library to stock it. If you read it and like it, please tell your friends and/or leave a few lines of praise on any bookish site. You’ll make me over-the-moon happy. Baci!
Cheryl, do you have a 𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊 on your car? ;o) [luggage rack]
I sent this newsletter to my son. I spoke a tiny bit of Italian to him when he was little, and he took it in college. He understands quite a bit and is trying to learn to speak it. Whenever he's home he peppers me with questions about Italian grammar, for which I have never have an answer because I never learned the grammar.