For those of us who have struggled to learn a second language, one writer confesses her unwavering dedication on the arduous road to mastering Italian, a wish that has ruled her heart for years…
My relationship with Italian takes place in exile, in a state of separation.
Every language belongs to a specific place. It can migrate, it can spread. But usually it’s tied to a geographical territory, a country. Italian belongs mainly to Italy, and I live on another continent, where one does not readily encounter it.
Read more at The New Yorker.