What is the Académie Francaise thinking of? The Quebec Office de la Langue Française would never allow the creeping degradation of the French language like this! It is a curious contradiction that this country that is so proud of its language and so reluctant to speak English increasingly uses English words in everyday vocabulary. Of course, they aren't really English words anymore. You can choose to look at this phenomenon in two ways: they are either mispronounced English words or new French words that look like English words. Some examples:
I had my first French haircut a while ago. I was mindful of the warning that there are often hidden charges involved so that innocent questions such as "would you like some conditioner/hairspray?" end up as charges on the bill. When the very talented Severine (to whom I will definitely return) asked if I would like a "braw-sheen", of course I asked for an explanation. First, she said she would dry my hair so I said you mean "sécher?" "Oui, she replied," mais avec la brosse." "So you are going to dry my hair using the brush?" "Mais oui, le braw-sheen!" Ah hah--the brushing that I had seen written on the window of the salon--a blow dry!!!!
David and I are running regularly in the lovely Parc Charruyer. He will inevitably change this to jogging as he doesn't think we go fast enough for it to be considered running. I figure anything faster than walking is running! It is beginning to be a bit cold in the mornings and we know the winter rain is coming. I set out to buy some sort of light windbreaker. Since the La Rochelle Marathon took place on Sunday, I knew the word for this was "coupe-vent" as all the finishers received one. However, when I went to the sports store and confidently asked for a coupe-vent, she looked at me with curiosity and said:"Vous voulez dire un "kaa-wee"? Hm . . . She took me off to see where these mysterious items were located. What did we see--windbreakers. "Voila, she said "les kaa-wee". When we finally sorted this one out, she was saying K-Way!!!
And then there is le pray-seen spelt pressing. Of course, this means dry cleaning! And le dew-vay which is the Dewey decimal system. And eess-tay or iced tea. And les bahs-kettes or running shoes (spelled baskets) And finally, le pled pronounced to rhyme with sled, written as plaid--a small blanket.
The strange thing behind this is the cultural imperative to speak beautiful and perfect French. French students receive far more instruction in the mechanics of their native language than we do in Canada. Speaking and writing correctly is enormously important. Every Wednesday afternoon, we spend time with a friend exchanging English and French lessons. One week, she asked for clear instruction on verb tenses, how the English tenses relate to French ones, their names etc. David and I suggested that it may not be that important, that eventually, with practise, such difficulties will fall into place. We suggested that speaking, even if incorrectly is more helpful than remaining silent while figuring out the perfect sentence. She became quite cool after that. Later, I thought about how much this idea would go against her beliefs about language so asked her about it the following week. "Mais bien sûr, she said, vous m'avez choquée." She was shocked that we didn't take our language seriously. Many of the people we have met are happy that I speak French but have no problem correcting me. I have been described to others as someone who speaks French "un peu/assez bien/avec un peu de difficulté" whereas I thought I was far in advance of these adjectives! At first, I was insulted but then realized that until I speak perfect French, these terms will continue to apply to me. The Canadian book "60 Million Frenchmen Can't be Wrong" has a very helpful chapter on the history of language in France. According to its authours, "Anglo-Americans consider their language a tool, but the French regard it as an accomplishment, even a work of art." In its early history, France was fragmented into provinces, each having its own language or dialects. Early on, standardizing the language became an instrument of the State to extend power and unite the country. Hand in hand with this, came the development of standards of use "le bon usage", the Académie Française (established in 1635, by the same Cardinal Richelieu who destroyed La Rochelle) and the eradication of dialects. Now, people like our friend regret the loss of all these regional languages but are convinced of the need for everyone to speak good French. Perhaps the only place that heated discussions about the English language take place is in the letters section of The Times of London. In France, it is a common and everyday occurrence. Much air time and newsprint is taken up discussing the measures needed to fend off the creeping anglicisms into French. Strangely it wasn't until the 1990s that the French government followed the lead of Quebec by instituting language laws that attempt to limit the use of English. Clearly, they aren't working!
Yesterday we went to a thé dansant. If you are au courant with the customs of the 30s, you will know what this is. You might have dressed in your chic décolleté couture dress to go to it. Perhaps you might have had an apéritif while having a tête-à-tête with your fiancé. So this exchange of language isn't new. For English speakers it has been happening for centuries and our language is the richer for it. For the French, it seems a newer phenomenon. But as we say in English and in French:"Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose."
David and I are running regularly in the lovely Parc Charruyer. He will inevitably change this to jogging as he doesn't think we go fast enough for it to be considered running. I figure anything faster than walking is running! It is beginning to be a bit cold in the mornings and we know the winter rain is coming. I set out to buy some sort of light windbreaker. Since the La Rochelle Marathon took place on Sunday, I knew the word for this was "coupe-vent" as all the finishers received one. However, when I went to the sports store and confidently asked for a coupe-vent, she looked at me with curiosity and said:"Vous voulez dire un "kaa-wee"? Hm . . . She took me off to see where these mysterious items were located. What did we see--windbreakers. "Voila, she said "les kaa-wee". When we finally sorted this one out, she was saying K-Way!!!
The strange thing behind this is the cultural imperative to speak beautiful and perfect French. French students receive far more instruction in the mechanics of their native language than we do in Canada. Speaking and writing correctly is enormously important. Every Wednesday afternoon, we spend time with a friend exchanging English and French lessons. One week, she asked for clear instruction on verb tenses, how the English tenses relate to French ones, their names etc. David and I suggested that it may not be that important, that eventually, with practise, such difficulties will fall into place. We suggested that speaking, even if incorrectly is more helpful than remaining silent while figuring out the perfect sentence. She became quite cool after that. Later, I thought about how much this idea would go against her beliefs about language so asked her about it the following week. "Mais bien sûr, she said, vous m'avez choquée." She was shocked that we didn't take our language seriously. Many of the people we have met are happy that I speak French but have no problem correcting me. I have been described to others as someone who speaks French "un peu/assez bien/avec un peu de difficulté" whereas I thought I was far in advance of these adjectives! At first, I was insulted but then realized that until I speak perfect French, these terms will continue to apply to me. The Canadian book "60 Million Frenchmen Can't be Wrong" has a very helpful chapter on the history of language in France. According to its authours, "Anglo-Americans consider their language a tool, but the French regard it as an accomplishment, even a work of art." In its early history, France was fragmented into provinces, each having its own language or dialects. Early on, standardizing the language became an instrument of the State to extend power and unite the country. Hand in hand with this, came the development of standards of use "le bon usage", the Académie Française (established in 1635, by the same Cardinal Richelieu who destroyed La Rochelle) and the eradication of dialects. Now, people like our friend regret the loss of all these regional languages but are convinced of the need for everyone to speak good French. Perhaps the only place that heated discussions about the English language take place is in the letters section of The Times of London. In France, it is a common and everyday occurrence. Much air time and newsprint is taken up discussing the measures needed to fend off the creeping anglicisms into French. Strangely it wasn't until the 1990s that the French government followed the lead of Quebec by instituting language laws that attempt to limit the use of English. Clearly, they aren't working!
Yesterday we went to a thé dansant. If you are au courant with the customs of the 30s, you will know what this is. You might have dressed in your chic décolleté couture dress to go to it. Perhaps you might have had an apéritif while having a tête-à-tête with your fiancé. So this exchange of language isn't new. For English speakers it has been happening for centuries and our language is the richer for it. For the French, it seems a newer phenomenon. But as we say in English and in French:"Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose."
