I have an obsessive personality. When something interests me I go for it whole-hog, give it my all, dive in head first -- all those clichés apply. I don't know, however, if this trait is inborn or if it was something I acquired somewhere along the road; I suspect it's the latter. Maybe it all started when my high school counselor, in her frustration at my constantly skipping class and flunking courses, told me I'd never amount to anything. Yes, it could very well be that she unknowingly sparked a different kind of rebellion in me than I had hitherto shown, a better kind of rebellion. Maybe, too, the few teachers who did see something in me underneath the slacker, and told me I could do anything I put my mind to, had something to do with it. Or perhaps part of me just got sick and tired of the pesky laziness that, I know very well, is an inborn trait.
At any rate, I have come to the conclusion that I really, really, really have to have the desire to do something in order for my inborn laziness to be conquered by my non-inborn determination. Once those two things are up and running, I have very little problem summoning the discipline to do whatever it is I desire to do. You may be thinking that this is true of practically anyone who has any motivation at all; however, I have come across countless persons who can accomplish things through sheer discipline, but not necessarily desire. In other words, they are capable of doing something they don't really want to do, and doing it very well. I'm not one of those persons.
Case in point: during my first few years as a vocal coach at the Houston Grand Opera, I had enough knowledge of Italian to "get by," i. e., enough to translate libretti (opera texts) and refine the singers' diction. However, I couldn't read more complicated texts at sight, nor could I follow spoken Italian very well, and I certainly couldn't respond at any length when spoken to. And I was perfectly content to stay at that level -- until I fell head over heels in love (albeit secretly) with an Italian singer who at that time had only a very modest command of English. I suddenly had the desire to know his language better, and in doing so, know him better. Love is one of the greatest motivators there is. It can move us to do both good things and stupid things. In my case, thank God, it moved me to do only good things.
Determination kicked in a few months after I met him. I had asked my family for only bookstore gift cards that Christmas, in order to buy Italian books and tapes. The following New Year's Day I began my relentlessly disciplined daily routine: upon waking, I made and drank my coffee while listening to a tape. Whenever I got into my car, I would turn on a tape. I carried a book with me wherever I went, so that I could study every single spare moment during my day, including solitary meals in restaurants. At home, the television stood silent and cold, except when I rented an Italian movie, and I would study until two or three in the morning. I went to bed with my Walkman and headphones, and fell asleep listening to vocabulary tapes. As soon as I was able (which was after about two months of intense, non-stop study) I bought novels and newspapers in Italian, eschewing literally anything written in English for a full year -- well, with one tiny exception, a novelette, Kate Chopin's The Awakening.
My friends were supportive of my obsession for about two weeks; after that, they were heartily sick of it and of me, and frankly I didn't blame them. One friend in particular was annoyed that I learned in two months what took her two years to learn. What could I say? Once desire, determination, and discipline fuel an obsession, you can accomplish more than you ever thought you could.
I decided to follow up my private study with even more intense study in Italy, taking advantage of one of the many "total immersion" programs given out of private homes. In these programs, you live in your teacher's home, have 2-4 hours of formal lessons per day, and speak not one word of your native tongue, not even in your lessons; your teacher and any family members in the home will speak only Italian. I did this program twice, the first time for three weeks in Lucca, and the second for two weeks in Florence (the region of Tuscany is considered the best for language study, as it is after all the cradle of modern Italian, and the accents are cleanest). All I can say is, thank God for my obsessiveness, because when I arrived for my first stay, I found that I had almost no problem understanding my teacher, and while I was by no means fluent or even conversant, I could make myself understood with relative ease. However, I will say that I would have severe headaches by mid-afternoon, and by evening I was perfectly happy to keep both my mouth and my ears shut. The Houston Grand Opera, where I was working at the time, readily agreed to pay part of my expenses for both trips, and indeed it benefited them as much as it did me.
Not content with becoming more conversant in modern Italian, I also wanted to learn about archaic Italian, the language of Dante, Petrarca, Tasso, etc. I began by translating old poetry, eventually working my way up to my own prose translation of a five-act pastoral play in blank verse, Aminta by Torquato Tasso, which was for me a gratifying (and exhausting) achievement. I have also translated seven modern plays, mostly by Italo Svevo. None of these translations are published, and probably never will be; I just did them for fun and for my own education.
Desire, determination, and discipline also turned my obsession with opera into a full-fledged 25-year career, and an unrequited love (the same one that motivated me to learn Italian) into a full-fledged poetry collection. "The Three D's" has been my motto since college, and has served me very well indeed.
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