Inquiry # 2: The Infinite
Ilaria Nardotto
I have a fascination for Italian poetry, thanks to a caring Junior High School teacher in Switzerland who transmitted his passion for Italian literature to me. The poem I have chosen for this assignment was written by Giacomo Leopardi in 1819 and is called "L’Infinito," which means "The Infinite." I have selected five words to analyze, not because they are key words of the poem, but because they are words which were not completely clear to me, and which I have always understood only in the context of the poem. With this assignment I have studied the etymology and definitions of these particular five words, so that I now understand them better in their meanings and in how their metaphors and sounds have changed over time. I have discovered that the research I did in completing this task was but a small part of what could be done. Dictionaries and etymological dictionaries seemed to dig me deeper into the subject as I searched through them, and I found out that I am fascinated by this type of research. Ultimately, the knowledge I have gained in the process has contributed to my understanding of the poem, it has increased my love of poetry, and it has therefore enriched my life. As a help and guide for the reader, I will translate into English the definitions and information I have found, which appear to be the keys to my inquiry. Generally, when talking about one of the five words, I will write first the Italian word I am referring to, followed by an English translation in parenthesis, at least the first time it appears in my research. Otherwise, whenever I will be quoting an entire definition or parts of one, I will put the direct English translation. I will write the translations in quotation marks, even if I will be the one translating from the original without taking information from an official source in English. L’INFINITO Sempre caro mi fu quest’ermo colle, E questa siepe, che da tanta parte Dell’ultimo orizzonte il guardo esclude. Ma sedendo e mirando, interminati Spazi di la’ da quella, e sovrumani Silenzi, e profondissima quiete Io nel pensier mi fingo; ove per poco Il cor non si spaura. E come il vento Odo stormir tra queste piante, io quello Infinito silenzio a questa voce Vo comparando: e mi sovvien l’eterno, E le morte stagioni, e la presente E viva, e il suon di lei. Cosi’ tra questa Immensita’ s’annega il pensier mio: E il naufragar m’e’ dolce in questo mare. THE INFINITE This hidden knoll has been always dear to me, And this shrubbery, that keeps obscure So much of the ultimate horizon. But sitting now and gazing, illimitable Spaces yonder, and superhuman Silences, and profoundest quiet Come to mind; where still the heart Knows scarcely fear. And listening to the wind Rusting in this greenery, to That infinite silence I compare This voice: and I ponder the eternal, And the dead seasons, and the present And living, and its sound. Thus in this immensity My meditations drown: And it is sweet to lose myself in this sea. (Translation by Kate Flores) The first word I analyzed is the adjective "ermo" ("solitary"). The definition says, "deserted place; solitary place where hermits retire and seclude; peaceful place" (Zingarelli). The etymology of the word is traced back to the old Latin word "eremu," which means "solitary." The Latin form evolved into the Italian form by undergoing a syncope of the "e" ("eremu" to "ermu") and then a vowel shift from "u" to "o" ("ermu" to "ermo"). The accent of the Italian form was transmitted to it from the Greek word "eremos," which means "uninhabited." It is interesting to note that Latin not only determined the Italian form of this word, but it influenced Basque as well. In fact, in this language the word "eremu" appears exactly how it is in Latin. Italian actually has two different forms of the word "ermo." The first form is the one I just described, which was used by Leopardi. The first record of its use is dated 1225. The second form of "ermo" is "eremo" (Zolli). This form is documented to have appeared a little before 1320, and therefore after the other form, and as a result of an epenthesis. In fact, "ermo" through less than one hundred years underwent an internal change in the addition of a vowel between consonants, and became "eremo." Interestingly enough, even though the term "eremo" appeared last in the language, today it is considered an archaism and it is rarely used (Zingarelli). The form used by Leopardi is the one which was first in use only in the occidental area of Italy, but that is now found in Italy’s meridional part and is greatly used in the different dialects of that region. As we have seen, the meaning of the adjective "ermo" has been influenced by Latin and even Greek. There is yet another factor which has given "ermo" a different meaning. In fact, because of the influence over the years of the verb "errare" ("to roam"), "ermo" is now used to also mean "wandering," and "idle." Probably because of this fact, and also because of the influence of the Byzantine word "dyseremos," the word has evolved into Calabrese (an Italian dialect) as "sdisserramu" with the meaning of "perverse," and into Sicilian (another Italian dialect) as "sdiserramu" with the meaning of "vagabond." Both words underwent a few sound additions such as prothesis and assimilation, as well as a vowel shift ant the end of the word. It is interesting to note that there is more than one meaning of the word "ermo," some of which completely defer from the common way of using the word to give the idea of a solitary place (Barbera). The new knowledge about the etymology of the term and how it was used helps me to understand why Leopardi used this word as an adjective to the word "hill" in his poem. According to the most common meaning, and knowing that "eremo" is a word used to describe the place where hermits live, I can see that Leopardi wants to emphasize the fact that he is alone on a desert hill, free from any human contact and possible bother. He is alone with his thoughts and in contemplation of the universe, in an atmosphere of quiet and peace. Maybe he even wants to use another meaning, by implying that his thoughts are wondering slowly, together with his gaze, upon the empty spaces of the universe and the mysteries of life. The second word I researched is the verb "fingere" ("to pretend"). The definition says, "to suppose; to figure; to imagine; - with imagination, with thoughts; to make someone believe something that is not true; to simulate; to show the opposite of what one feels; to represent and symbolize in poems" (Zingarelli). For this word it is important to distinguish the forms and the meanings in their derivations and developments. The form of the verb "fingere" has derived from the Latin "fictione(m)," which evolved into the adjective "finto" ("fake") in Italian (Zolli). The meanings of "fingere" developed in many different ways. There is evidence that the verbs derives from an Indo-European root "*deigh-," which originally meant "to give form (to wax)" (Barbera). Later it acquired the meaning of "to make a copy," and finally it meant "to make one believe" (Barbera). It is fascinating to note that the original meaning has remained in Spanish, where "henir" means "to make bread" (Barbera). The later meaning has remained in French with the word "feindre," and the final meaning is found in the Old Provenzale "fanha," and in the Italian word "simulare," which means "to simulate" (Barbera). Two archaic meanings of the word "fingere" prove all this to be true. In other words, there are two old meanings in Italian which show that "fingere" used to mean "to draw with paint or to sculpture," and "to mold; to form," just like the old Indo-European root (Zingarelli). Today, the verb "fingere" can also be used in a reflexive way as "fingersi," which holds the meaning of "wanting to appear; make oneself believed to be crazy, sick, happy, sad, etc." (Zanichelli). Even this last meaning is related to the root of "plasmare," in the figurative sense that one tries to form and create an image of himself/herself that others will see. The transitive form of the verb "fingere" is documented to have first appeared in 1294, while the reflexive form came later in 1532 (Zolli). Knowing all of this, it is still hard for me to understand the meaning of this particular word in the context of the poem. Leopardi is talking about being on this hill, looking out at the universe, listening to the silence, and thinking. He used the word "fingersi" connected with his thoughts. I always thought that he meant to say that he was finding refuge in his thoughts. My new knowledge tells me that Leopardi must have meant something else. Maybe he wanted to say that he looks for refuge in his thoughts, but these thoughts are fake, and he molds them and forms them however he wants them to be, so that his heart will not be scared by his real, true thoughts. To back up my explanation of this part of the poem I need to go on with the research of my next word. The third word I studied comes in the very next line of the poem, and it is the verb "spaurare" ("to frighten"). The first interesting thing to note about this word is that in two of the dictionaries I looked it up it was written just as I spelled it above. In the third dictionary, however, under the word "spaurare" there was an arrow which indicated that I needed to search that word under a different reference, which was spelled "spaurire." This fact in itself, without even looking at sound changes overtime, shows that there has been a vowel shift. Or better, that a vowel change is happening now, right at this minute. The proof is the fact that some people apparently use the word "spaurare", while others use "spaurire." "Spaurare" is nevertheless an archaic form not much in use anymore (Zingarelli). "Spaurare" goes back to the Latin words "expavere" and "expaventare," which meant "to be under the influx of fear" (Barbera). There is an Italian synonym of "spaurare" which seems even closer to the Latin form. The synonym is "spaventare." It is obvious that the Latin "x" in "expaventare" underwent a change into "s," together with an aphaeresis of the beginning vowel "e" to become the current Italian form. "Spaurare" seems more related to the noun "paura" ("fear"), which in Latin is "pavore(m)" (Zingarelli). The labial "v" became the vowel "u", and a syncope of the "o" took place as well. Finally, the addition of the prefix "s-" (or prothesis) happened as well, forming the current form "spaurare" or "spaurire" (Zingarelli). The meanings of this verb were very stable and did not vary as much as the verb "fingere" that I discussed earlier. The first meaning documented in 1353 war related to the transitive form of the verb and it meant "to frighten" (Zolli). Later in the century "spaurire" also assumed the reflexive form of "spaurirsi," which meant "to be frightened" (Zolli). Both these meanings and forms still hold true today. An interesting thing is that normally I would have thought that the prefix "s-" would make the word become its antonym, but I found out that it is not so, since apparently the verb still holds the same meaning even with the prothesis of an "s-." Leopardi uses the verb "spaurare" in the reflexive form in his poem. Used this way the verb still holds the same meaning of making someone scared (in the reflexive case, making yourself scared). He is telling us how he is trying to fool himself into molding his own thoughts. He does this, so that he can preserve his heart from experiencing fear. Therefore, even though it might seem that he means just the opposite, due to the presence of the prefix "s-" which usually makes words assume the opposite meaning, we can see that Leopardi is simply using an archaic form to express the regular meaning of frightening somebody (in this case, his heart). The fourth word I analyzed is the verb "sovvenire" ("to remember"). This word comes from the Latin "subvenire" ("to hasten"), being a composite of "sub" ("under") and "venire" ("to come"). I found that the word first appeared documented in Italian at the end of the thirteenth century as "sovenire", and soon evolved into "suvenire," which is an example of assimilation, since the word doubled a consonant (Zingarelli). From that form to the one we use today there is another example of consonant loss, or in other words, it is an example of syncope. Aside from the transitive form, there is also a reflexive form of this verb: "sovvenirsi." This reflexive form came in use around 1321 (Zolli). The discovery I made in studying this word is that I always thought that both the transitive and the reflexive forms of this verb meant "to remember." I know that in French "se souvenir" means just that, so I assumed that it was the same in Italian. I was therefore surprised to read that the dictionary, while it gave me the definition I expected for the reflexive form, it also gave the definition of "to help; to succor" for the transitive form (Zingarelli). I had never thought that the transitive form of the verb would have a different meaning from the reflexive one. The meanings of this word, therefore, evolved in the following way: first this verb was used to mean "to help, to succor" in its earliest days; then it meant "to remember," and in the sixteenth century (around 1574) it assumed the meaning of "remembrance; memory; little ring." From this last meaning, the use spread throughout the world and it assumes today the international meaning of the little gifts we buy when we go to a place away from home and we want to have something to remember from the place we visited. Usually we use the French form of this, and we call it "souvenir" (Barbera). All this helps me to see that Leopardi is not only trying to tell us that as he is deep in thought he simply remembers about eternity and thinks about it. I believe he wants to go deeper than this, by saying that he ponders upon the subject, and the things he thinks about are precious little thoughts that he holds dear, and that they are meaningful and important, just like those cute little gifts we buy when we go on vacation. Finally, that last word is the verb "naufragare" ("to be shipwrecked"). According to various documents, this word goes back originally to the Latin noun "naufragiu(m)," which is a composite of the noun "navis" ("nave" in Italian, or "ship") and the verb"-fragium" ("frangere" in Italian, or "to brake," usually referring to waves braking at the shore) (Zolli). The word evolved undergoing an apocope and a vowel shift from high to middle, becoming the noun "naufragio" in Italian. The Latin noun "naufragiu(m)" also formed the verb "naufragare," which stayed in its original Latin form even in Italian today. The noun "naufragio" is found as early as 1264, while its derivate verb "naufragare" only came in the fourteenth century. The verb has four main meanings: it refers to a ship which brakes and sinks at sea, it refers to a person who has survived such an accident, it refers to a person who fails in something or does not find a warm welcome, and finally it poetically refers to being lost. We have records of when the different meanings were first used. For example, the first meaning we have documented between 1340 and 1342 is the one of a person who survives an accident at sea; the meaning of the ship braking and sinking at sea was first used in 1503; finally, the meaning of failing was documented later between 1644 and 1683 (Zolli). In this last case I have always understood the word Leopardi used, but I wanted to understand the metaphor he was using here, so that I could gain a better understanding of his poem as well. I always thought that by using this word he meant to say that it is sweet to him to lose himself in the sea of his thoughts, in a particular state of mind where even nature (and therefore both what he sees and what he hears) influences his "naufragio." Now I believe that there is also some tragedy in his experience. He is not only floating around, lost at sea, but he also runs the danger of running into something, maybe the shore just like the waves, and braking. In other words, he might have used this metaphor not only to portray the image of him feeling lost in the world and in his life, but also to tell us that he was scared of not feeling welcomed by people, and that he was a failure or was afraid to fail. Poetry is beautiful, and digging deeper into meanings, metaphors, and sounds changes we can open our eyes on whole new levels of significance. I explored the etymology and definitions of only five words in a poem that I love, which are words that I did not fully understand until now. With the knowledge I have gained through this assignment, I can now interpret the message that Leopardi was trying to portray a level higher from what I was able to do before. As I mentioned earlier, I did but a small part of what could be done with this poem, but it is a start which will leave a mark for how it has effected my knowledge and my life. Works Cited Battisti, Carlo, and Alessio, Giovanni. Dizionario Etimologico Italiano. Firenze: G. Barbera, 1975. Cortelazzo, Manlio, and Zolli, Paolo. Dizionario Etimologico Della Lingua Italiana. Bologna: Zanichelli, 1979. Hazon, Mario. Garzanti Comprehensive Italian-English English-Italian Dictionary. Italy: Garzanti, 1961. Zingarelli, Nicola. Il Nuovo Zingarelli, Vocabolario Della Lingua Italiana. 11th ed. Bologna: Zanichelli, 1984. |