Guest Post by NickelthroweR
My mother is from Northern Italy and as a child I had the good fortune to travel with her several times as she returned home to visit with friends and family. She was raised near the great cities of Venice, Padua, Verona and Florence and together we could take day trips to see the cathedrals, museums, parks and monuments that cover that part of Italy. These works of art are not silent monoliths but are peppered with inscriptions in Latin, French and Italian. Whether to honor God, the Republic of Veneto, a great victory or a great man, the creators of these treasures very much wanted to preserve that voice through time so they carved their messages in stone or found a way to make it part of the art itself.
Often times I would ask my mother to translate an inscription if I saw something that my young eyes found interesting and many times, to my disappointment, my mother would tell me that the statement didn’t translate into English. As a child, I just accepted that this was the way languages work but as I became a man it became very clear to me that when something did not translate it meant that there were ideas and concepts that other people could have but that I could not have because I did not possess the key to unlock it. I had to come to terms with the fact that part of the lesson that there was to be learned from some art was beyond my reach and always would be so.
One. . .Few. . .Many
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