Copyediting sample 48:
Learning Italian
In this memoir, besides routine style issues (mostly punctuation), there was an important issue that needed addressing (via a quick lookup on the web).
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Note: The late author of this piece was not a native English speaker. The client was a daughter of the author, who wanted the author’s Teutonic way of expressing himself preserved as much as possible.
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Original
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The first few weeks in Munich I stayed with my mother’s friend Nizza and her daughter Paula in their apartment on Leopold Street, one of Munich’s most famous avenues. Shortly after I arrived, Nizza’s niece Olga came from Italy to spend some time in Munich. Olga spoke only a little German and therefore most of the conversation was in Italian. Having had French and Latin in school I could guess the meaning of some words, but I decided that I had to be able to join them in their conversations. I bought a book Thirty Lessons in Italian which I studied while sitting in the streetcar going or coming from classes, and during the long waiting for lunch in the Mensa, the university’s cafeteria. After some weeks of my studies I said a few words in Italian while Nizza and the girls were having one of their Italian conversations. Nizza happily cried parlas italiano! and from then on regularly spoke Italian to me, which of course helped me to become quite fluent in that language. During the next few years I was able to strike up a conversation with an Italian whenever there was an opportunity. Later when I learned and had to use Spanish my Italian became rusty and I forgot more and more of it.
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Markup
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The first few weeks in Munich I Munich, I stayed with my mother’s friend Nizza and her daughter Paula in their apartment on Leopold Street, one of Munich’s most famous avenues. Shortly after I arrived, Nizza’s niece Olga came from Italy to spend some time in Munich. Olga spoke only a little German and German, and therefore most of the conversation was in Italian. Having had French and Latin in school I school, I could guess the meaning of some words, but I decided that I had to be able to join them in their conversations. I bought a book Thirty Lessons in Italian which the book Thirty Lessons in Italian, which I studied while sitting in the streetcar going or going to or coming from classes, and during the long waiting for lunch in the Mensa, the university’s cafeteria. After some weeks of my studies I studies, I said a few words in Italian while Nizza and the girls were having one of their Italian conversations. Nizza happily cried parlas italiano! cried, “Parlas italiano!” [I find no “Parlas” in Italian; should this be “Parlassi”? (see Conjugate and Use the Verb “Parlare” in Italian)] and from then on regularly spoke Italian to me, which of course helped course, helped me to become quite fluent in that language. During the next few years I years, I was able to strike up a conversation with an Italian whenever there was an opportunity. Later when Later, when I learned and had to use Spanish my Spanish, my Italian became rusty and rusty, and I forgot more and more of it.
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Result
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The first few weeks in Munich, I stayed with my mother’s friend Nizza and her daughter Paula in their apartment on Leopold Street, one of Munich’s most famous avenues. Shortly after I arrived, Nizza’s niece Olga came from Italy to spend some time in Munich. Olga spoke only a little German, and therefore most of the conversation was in Italian. Having had French and Latin in school, I could guess the meaning of some words, but I decided that I had to be able to join them in their conversations. I bought the book Thirty Lessons in Italian, which I studied while sitting in the streetcar going to or coming from classes, and during the long waiting for lunch in the Mensa, the university’s cafeteria. After some weeks of my studies, I said a few words in Italian while Nizza and the girls were having one of their Italian conversations. Nizza happily cried, “Parlassi italiano!” and from then on regularly spoke Italian to me, which of course, helped me to become quite fluent in that language. During the next few years, I was able to strike up a conversation with an Italian whenever there was an opportunity. Later, when I learned and had to use Spanish, my Italian became rusty, and I forgot more and more of it.
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