To wander along the shores of lakes, to climb up mountains, to visit
cities, to see pictures, and stand amidst the architecture of the old
or of the new world, is very good, even though the man who does these
things can speak no word out of his own language. To speak another
language well is very good also, and to speak another language badly
is much better than not to speak it at all. All that is required is
that there should be no humbug, no pretence, no insincerity, either
as regards self or others. Let him whose foreign vocabulary is very
limited use it boldly as far as it will go; and let him acknowledge
to himself that he is going to see the outside of things, and not the
inside. It is not given to any of us to see the inside of many things.
Why be discomforted because you cannot learn the mysteries of Italian
life, seeing that in all probability you know nothing of the inner
life of the man who lives next door to you at home? There is a whole
world close to you which you have not inspected. What do you know of
the thoughts and feelings of those who inhabit your own kitchen? But in
seeing the outer world, which is open to your eye, there may be great
joy, almost happiness,--if you will only look at it with sincerity.
There is another grievance, cognate with this grievance of language,
which much troubles some tourists,--a grievance which indeed springs
altogether from that lack of language. The money of these unlearned
ones will not go so far with them as it would do if they could do their
bargaining in French with a fluent tongue. The imperious guide-books
have not failed to throw into the teeth of monolingual travellers their
disadvantages in this respect, and to do all that lay in their power
to add a further heavy misery on this head to the other miseries of
tourists. No doubt my friend the Italian innkeeper would be more easily
pressible--what we generally call more reasonable--in his financial
arrangements if you could argue out the question of your bed and supper
in good Tuscan; but in this matter, as in all others, you must pay for
that which you have not got, and cut your coat according to your cloth.
Are you going to be miserable because you, who have to pay your railway
fares, cannot travel as cheaply as your friend who has a free ticket
wherever he goes? A free ticket is a nice thing; but not having one,
you must pay your fare.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account