As the boomerang flies, so it flies back. The stories that lived within me, passed down from my grandparents. Theirs was an Italy of nostalgic approximation. Mine is an Italy that is bowed but unbroken, a phoenix that will rise again.
With the establishment of Florentine as the literary language of choice, all the other regional languages came to be regarded as dialects, creating a unique situation that Italians have struggled with to this day.