Cows in Italy: Bovine Expressions in Italian How the cow has contributed to the language of Dante By Emily Liz Helgersen Among my fondest memories of childhood and adolescence are the times spent at our family’s dairy farm in Italy, my father’s birthplace. There I learned everything about cows: milking them (unlike some of my classmates, I actually knew what part of the cow milk came from), feeding them, and playing with the calves. More recently, I have decided to pay tribute to my all-time favourite animals by writing this essay: bovine expressions in Italian. Italy has always had a special relationship with Bos taurus (the scientific term for the domestic cow). In fact, the original name of the country was Vitalia from “vitulus,” the Latin word for calf. Italy was the land of calves, just as Gaul – present-day France – was Gallia, the land of the rooster, from Latin “gallus.” Though “vitulus” lacks direct descendants in the Romance languages, its diminutive “vitellus,” small calf, lives on as “vitello” in Italian and “veau” in modern French, meaning “calf” in both (on the other hand, Spanish and Portuguese opted for the Basque words “becerro” and “bezerro” respectively). Of note, midway between “vitellus” and “veau” was the Old French “veel,” which gave rise to the English “veal.” Perhaps then in homage to their national animal, Italians have spiced their language with expressions referring to bovines of all ages and both sexes. _____________________ Italy was the land of calves. _____________________ First are those with “cow” itself, “vacca” (plural “vacche”) from the same word in Latin. Just as most women would not appreciate being called a cow, “vacca” is not a very flattering term in Italian either. It has become among other things a slang word for “slut.” Curiously, Italian’s sister language French uses “vache” – also from the Latin “vacca” – to designate a woman of loose morals. “Faire la vache,” literally “to be the cow,” is synonymous with “to walk the streets.” Interestingly, while “cow” does not have this connotation in North American English, in Britain it does. Italian has an expression of frustration “vacca miseria” (“damn it!”), which means literally “misery is a whore” (vacca). “Vacca” may in addition refer to a fat woman, like our “cow” or “heifer.” Nonetheless, when faced with starvation cows can slim down as well as anyone else, and hence the expression “vacche magre” (thin cows) in contrast to “vacche grasse” (fat cows). This of course stems from Joseph’s dream in the Bible where he sees seven fat cows and seven thin ones, signifying seven years of feast and seven of famine. Thus “essere in tempo di vacche grasse” translates literally as “to be in the time of fat cows,” or to live in a time of plenty. “Essere in tempo di vacche magre” on the other hand means to live in a time of scarcity. The cow’s mate, the bull, also boasts a fair share of sayings to his name in Italian, “toro” (plural “tori”). One familiar to both English and Italian speakers is “prendere il toro per le corna,” a word-for-word translation of “to take the bull by the horns” (having run into a number of cantankerous bulls in my lifetime, I would call this proposition downright suicidal). A similar expression is “tagliare la testa al toro,” to cut the head off the bull. The closest equivalent in English might be to nip something [a problem] in the bud. Italian has in addition “robusto come un toro,” robust as a bull, or “strong as an ox.” “Vitello” has spawned – or should I say “calved?” – a few phrases of its own. Among them is “adorare il vitello d’oro,” to worship the golden calf. Like the fat and skinny cows, this saying comes from the Bible as well, when the Israelites take the gold in their earrings and build an idol in the form of a calf. Today, however, to worship the golden calf means to pursue wealth relentlessly, in other words, to be money-hungry. Another calf-derived word is “vitellone,” literally “big calf” (the suffix “one” signifies “big” or “large” in Italian). In a figurative sense, a “vitellone” refers to a young man who still lives at home, does not contribute to the family finances, and generally leads an unproductive existence, like an older calf who still nurses at the mother cow’s teats. The most approximate English expression would be “mama’s boy.” The term was made famous by director Federico Fellini’s film I Vitelloni, which told the story of several youths fitting this description. _____________________ A “vitellone” refers to a young man who still lives at home, does not contribute to the family finances, and generally leads an unproductive existence. _____________________ Perhaps the largest number of bovine expressions in Italian are held by the ox, “bue” (less commonly “bove,” plural “buoi”). As a former beast of burden whose strength and good nature were highly valued in the days before tractors and combines, the ox’s virtues are still commemorated in everyday speech. For example, while in Anglo-Saxon countries dogs are the industrious ones, Italians say “lavorare come un bue,” or “work like an ox.” Similarly, there is “pazienza da bue,” patience of an ox, which we express as “the patience of a saint.” Despite the ox’s many admirable qualities, though, he was never renowned for his great mind. A “bue,” figuratively speaking, is an individual who is rather slow and dull-witted. “Sei un bue (you’re an ox)” conveys the same idea as “you dumb ox.” Given that these animals’ roles once overlapped before the advent of mechanized agriculture, Italian contains several expressions with “ox” where we use “horse” instead. For instance, “mettere il carro innanzi ai buoi” translates roughly as “to put the cart before the oxen,” the oxen being the horse in the English equivalent. Italians likewise say “chiudere la stalla quando i buoi sono scappati,” to close the barn when the oxen have escaped. In other words, make sure you close the door before the animals, whether horses or oxen, have left the barn. So the next time you eat veal parmesan, ricotta cheese, or ice cream, remember the animal that has contributed so much not only to Italy’s cuisine but to its language as well.   Emily Liz Helgersen is a secretary and musician based in Canada. When she’s not busy with her job, social activities and hobbies, she likes to write about religion, music, culture or anything else that happens to strike her fancy. In this picture here she’s trying to look composed despite the fact her brother is pinching her arm. You can contact her at ehelgersen@hotmail.com This website: Copyright © 2006 Dream World Media, LLC. / Urban Mozaik Magazine. All rights reserved. This website/publication, in whole or in part, may not be reproduced without written permission from the publisher or the previous publisher of original republished materials.