{"id":13418,"date":"2017-02-08T13:23:39","date_gmt":"2017-02-08T12:23:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/?p=13418"},"modified":"2017-02-08T17:41:14","modified_gmt":"2017-02-08T16:41:14","slug":"sono-geoff-part-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/italian\/sono-geoff-part-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Sono Geoff – Part 1"},"content":{"rendered":"

Every now and then we get requests for biographies, to which we tend to mumble non-committal replies such as ‘okay, when we have time’. But one of you, dear readers, has been nagging us incessantly for some time now (yes, you know who you are!). And so … here it is!<\/span>
\nIn order to make this as useful as possible I’ve decide to do two things: begin by writing in English and then translating into Italian, and focus on those aspects of my life that have nurtured my fascination with language and culture.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"ATC<\/a>

I’ve had a strong interest in aviation ever since I was a child. April 1972, Air Training Corps camp at RAF Lindholme, UK. I’m standing at the far right.<\/em><\/span><\/p><\/div>\n

“Thanks to Hitler”, as my mother used to say, I was born in a sleepy little village amidst the gentle rolling farmland of Suffolk, England. My mother, you see, was an East Ender who’s family was evacuated from London to Suffolk during the ‘Blitz’. Once there, they fell in love with the tranquillity and intimacy of country life, and at war’s end, decided to stay put. My mother has always had a deep love for the Suffolk countryside, hence her frequent exclamations: “thank you Hitler!”.<\/p>\n

“Grazie a Hitler”, come diceva mia mamma, sono nato in un piccolo paese sonnolento nel mezzo della campagna gentilmente ondulata di Suffolk, Inghilterra. Mia mamma, vedete, era una East Ender, la cui famiglia era stata sfollata da Londra in Suffolk durante il ‘Blitz’. Una volta arrivati l\u00ec, si innamorarono della tranquillit\u00e0 e intimit\u00e0 della vita campestre, e, finita la guerra, decisero di restare l\u00ec. Mia mamma ha sempre avuto un affetto profondo per la campagna di Suffolk, ecco perch\u00e9 le sue frequenti esclamazioni: “Grazie Hitler!”. <\/strong><\/p>\n

Speaking of Adolf, I think that my first interest in foreign languages and cultures was inspired by the war films and comics which were so popular during the patriotic post-war period. Growing up in the early 60’s, we were all taught about the evil, unscrupulous ‘Jerries’, as my parents generation called the Germans. But, as is so often the case, this simply piqued my curiosity, and made me want to understand these strange ‘foreigners’ and discover what made them so different from us British.<\/p>\n

A proposito di Adolf, penso che il mio primo interesse nelle lingue e culture straniere sia stato ispirato dai film e i fumetti di guerra che erano cos\u00ec popolari durante il patriotico dopoguerra. Cresciuti nei primi anni ’60, ci insegnavano dei diabolici e senza scrupoli ‘Jerries’, come chiamavano i tedeschi la generazione dei miei genitori. Ma, come succede spesso, questo ha semplicemente suscitato la mia curiosit\u00e0, e mi ha fatto venire la voglia di capire questi strani ‘forestieri’ e scoprire cosa li rendeva cos\u00ec diversi da noi Britannici. <\/strong><\/p>\n

Hence, the first foreign words that I can remember learning were gleaned from those very films and comics: Achtung! Donner und Blitzen!, H\u00e4nde hoch Schwienehund!<\/em> ….. yes, fifty years later I still clearly remember those impressive German exclamations.<\/p>\n

Pertanto, le prime parole straniere che mi rammento di aver imparato erano racimolate da quegli stessi film e fumetti: Achtung! Donner und Blitzen!, H\u00e4nde hoch Schweinhund!<\/em> ….. s\u00ec, cinquant’anni dopo mi ricordo ancora chiaramente quelle impressionati esclamazioni tedesche.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"Commando<\/a>

At school I wanted to learn German, but they only offered French, which I considered very uncool<\/span><\/em>.<\/p><\/div>\n

Later, in my early twenties, I travelled to Germany, made friends there, even had a German girlfriend (well several actually), and this was probably the first big step I took in understanding the misguided xenophobia and sense of national superiority that my own culture had tried to instil in me.<\/p>\n

Pi\u00f9 tardi, poco pi\u00f9 che ventenne, sono andato in Germania, e l\u00ec ho fatto delle amicizie, ho avuto addirittura una ragazza tedesca (anzi, varie), ed \u00e8 stato questo, probabilmente, il primo grande passo che ho fatto nel capire la fuorviante xenofobia e senso di superiorit\u00e0 nazionalista che la mia cultura aveva provato ad inculcare in me.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Contemporary with my fascination for the ‘Jerries’ was an equal romance with another ‘evil’ bunch: the ‘savage’ Native Americans portrayed by the cowboys film of my childhood. For some reason, I’ve always felt an empathy for the underdog, and even as a child, despite the distorted, overtly racist portrayal of the ‘Injuns’, I somehow perceived them as noble defenders of a profound culture, and the so called ‘hero’ cowboys as crass, arrogant invaders.<\/p>\n

Contemporaneamente alla mia fascinazione per i ‘Jerries’ provavo un uguale romanticismo per un altro gruppo ‘diabolico’: i ‘selvaggi’ Nativi Americani ritratti dai film di cowboy della mia infanzia. Per qualche motivo, ho sempre provato un’empatia per il perdente, e anche da bambino, nonostante il distorto, apertamente razzista ritratto degli ‘Injuns’, in qualche modo li percepivo come nobili difensori di una cultura profonda, e i cosiddetti ‘eroici’ cowboy come dei grossolani, arroganti invasori.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I even dreamt one night, when I was about 9 or 10, that I met and fell in love with a beautiful Sioux Indian princess by a river in a sandy gully …<\/p>\n

Ho addirittura sognato una notte, quando avevo 9 o 10 anni, di aver incontrato ed essermi innamorato di una bellissima principessa Indiana Sioux vicino a un fiume in un burrone sabbioso …<\/strong><\/p>\n

Sadly, the only Native American Indian words that I learned were: “White man speak with forked tongue”, which, funnily enough, didn’t help me out much in later life!<\/p>\n

Purtroppo, le uniche parole Native Americane che ho imparato erano: “Uomo bianco parla con lingua biforcuta”, che, stranamente, non mi hanno aiutato molto nella mia vita!<\/strong><\/p>\n

Will there be a part 2 … cosa ne dite?<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"\"\"

Every now and then we get requests for biographies, to which we tend to mumble non-committal replies such as ‘okay, when we have time’. But one of you, dear readers, has been nagging us incessantly for some time now (yes, you know who you are!). And so … here it is! In order to make…<\/p>\n

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