My title today is French for "my struggle" and it refers to my efforts to get my head around the French language. I've been studying French off and on since tenth grade. Foreign languages fascinate me. I'm amazed that people speaking what sounds like gibberish are able to build huge cathedrals and delicious eclairs.
Sometimes I get sick of French and want to try a new language, but about thirty years ago I read a quote from Winston Churchill saying you should stick with a language until you're fluent before moving on to the next one. So I'm stuck with French after all these years. At first French is seductively easy. There are so many shared words with English that it seems the battle's half won. But French is loaded with "false friends." For example, location in French means a rental or leasing. If you mean our kind of location, you have to say empalcement.
I was complaining to my sister-in-law that one French word can have half a dozen meanings. "Just like English," she said. Touchè! As you go along, you learn which meaning is the most common. But knowing all the words gets you only so far. The word order of a French sentence can be a killer. "Throw me down the stairs a pack of cigarettes," is a fair example. Even for a simple phrase like "What is it? the French say as "Qu'est-ce que c'est," which translates literally to "what is this that this is?"
So I learned lots of words and accepted the convoluted grammar and I went to France. I understood nothing. My companions who knew no French actually understood more because they were watching body language while I was giving all my attention to the words. My studies however were useful for reading signs and saving us from parking tickets, but I was missing France passing by as I tried to translate all the signs.
The French love their language and can't stand hearing it mangled. The publishers of French language books tell you the natives will appreciate it if you make an effort to speak their language. Ha Ha. If you say anything more than bonjour, you will get a quizzical look. Once they understand what you're after, they will politely answer your request and take your money. In a Paris hotel I tried to ask for my room key, "Cinq-un." Five-one. After I held up five fingers then one finger, the clerk laughed, and in perfect English said, "The war is over. English has won."
If I could live in France for a couple of years and become a regular in a bistro, maybe get a job sweeping up, I might eventually become fluent. My New Year's resolution is to talk Teresa into relocating to the South of France.
Among my many French books, there's one called 1001 Pitfalls In French. That title alone should have redirected me to a more relaxing study. Nuclear physics perhaps. Within this book, there's a dedication: "to the French, who among so many gifts to the civilized world have enriched it with a language beautiful, subtle, expressive, and difficult to master..."
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| Les Bouquinistes de Paris |
I took French for four years and never achieved your proficiency. It almost seems like a language developed for the express purpose of belittling outsiders.
ReplyDeleteI'm thinking that your left-hemisphere has been sufficiently marinated with French words and grammar, and Lefty can only take you so far. I'm thinking that it's time to marinate your right-hemisphere by finding a fluent speaking buddy (copain parlant) who is a French person. C'est ma pensée.
Does French have more numerous or fewer idioms that English?
DeleteMarry a Francophone.
Idioms and slang are the inner castle that defend a language against comprehension. Every language has this.
A Swedish couple visited us once with their two young sons. One of the boys locked himself (accidentally) in the bathroom. It took us several minutes working in Swedish and English to free little Jonas. This is the way to learn a language.
I went to language camp twice. There’s no embarrassment in speaking bad French. The painful part is listening to others do it.
One of your best! Really enjoyed the language. Ha! I, too, studied French from 6th grade through early university years. After all that, currently my 'go-to' tool for translating French is my years of studying Latin with a dash of Spanish. Bueno Sancho!
ReplyDeleteI spent a month in Paris in the 90s where I managed to buy some cheese and find a toilet. But speaking French is a cakewalk (where did that idiom come from?) compared to Polish. I made three multi-week trips to Warsaw to teach - in English - at the Warsaw School of Economics. Thank goodness all my acquaintances were eager to practice their English. I kept saying goodnight to people when I meant thank you! dziękuje dobranoc
Ah, the trials and fibulations of speaking non-English when our own language has become King. Get with the times, eh? Oops, slipping into a northern foreign language!
DeleteVell, ve’re all fluent as da drippin’ flue ven it comes to Scandihoovian, yew bet!
I couldn't learn a foreign language any time in my earlier life. I just couldn't believe that you had to roll your 'r's or make sometimes make guttural noise to say words. I'd laugh out loud, thinkin' they were trying to pull one over on me. "No way! That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" and me being so young as to be quite limited in the 'ever heard' department.
ReplyDeleteI learned some Spanish via TV when I was in elementary school in Des Moines. I only wish now it could have been continued or introduced earlier in my education so I could be fluent now. It would come in handy. We sent our daughter to language camp one year. Full immersion Spanish. She was like in fifth grade or something; but she took it in stride, having long been encouraged to try different things. When she learned a few words -- and how to do The Macarena: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RAAfmuk180s. We were happy and so was she. Yea language camp!