Category Archives: French language

Friday’s French – feu

A Facebook comment by an Australian cousin currently living in France has inspired this post:

Dear smokers of France,
Although I have an odd accent, I will understand you if you ask me for a lighter. Making expansive gestures and asking “Do you ‘ave zee fire?” is only going to result in me busting out some sweet dance moves to prove that yes, I do indeed ‘ave zee fire.

Vous avez du feu?” is a well-known opening gambit in French among cigarette smokers. It’s a classic example of how a word in one language can have an entirely different meaning in another.

Feu is used in a large number of French expressions, starting with cars and traffic lights.

feu antibrouillard = fog light or lamp

feu arrière = tail or rear light

feu clignotant = flashing light/blinker/indicator

feux de croisement = dipped headlights, low beams

feux de détresse = hazard (warning lights), usually called warning in French, pronounced waa-ning.

feux de recul = reversing/back-up lights

feu vert/orange/rouge = green/amber/red light, traffic lights and feu rouge is more specifically used to mean traffic lights in general e.g. tournez à gauche au prochain feu rouge = turn left at the next set of traffic lights, which is a bit odd if you think about it because you should really be turning at the green light!

Bonfire is interesting, because it’s called a feu de joies in French in reference to the fact that it provides a warm place that people can gather around at nighttime and enjoy themselves. Despite appearances, the “bon” in “bonfire” does not mean “good” but “bones”, originally denoting a fire on which bones were burnt, or for burning heretics. Much nicer in French!

Not surprisingly, a coup de feu is a gunshot, like our gunfire.

The hot plates on the stove are also called feux which means that a stove with three burners or rings is a cuisinière à trois feux though this is probably dying out as more ceramic cooking tops come into use, giving trois plaques.

An expression that’s really expressive is Il a le feu au cul, because it so exactly describes drivers that tear past you on the motorway, flashing their headlines for you to get out of the way when you’re already sitting on 130 kph. It has sexual meaning as well. Cul is a three-letter word for backside. I could probably do a whole post on it alone but the blog would be inundated with spam as a result! Suffice to say that there are a whole lot of expressions connected with the word.

After 500 Years, Tour Saint-Jacques Temporarily Opens to the Public – Lavender fields of Haut Provence: a photo essay

Three very different posts have caught my eye this week for Wednesday’s Blogger Round-up. Mary Kay from Out and About in Paris informs us that the recently restored 500-year-old Tour Saint-Jacques in Paris, the starting place of the San Diego de Compostela pilgrimage, is open temporarily to visitors. Phoebe from Lou Messugo takes us through the stunning lavender fields of Haute Provence. And to finish off, the inimitable Bread is Pain talks about the question of changing personalities when you speak another language. I couldn’t agree more! Enjoy.

After 500 Years, Tour Saint-Jacques Temporarily Opens to the Public

by Mary Kay from Out and About in Paris, an American by birth, Swiss by marriage, resident of Paris with a Navigo Pass for the metro that she feels compelled to use

saint_jacquesWhile Stéphane and I were sipping glasses of Perrier menthe and rosé on the terrace of Café Nemours on Friday evening, my ears perked up when I overheard an American couple at the table behind us talking about the 360-degree panoramic view of Paris from “that tower”. When the woman added that the vista of all the famous Parisian monuments was well worth the climb even though it had been hard on her knees, I nudged Stéphane in the ribs and whispered, “They’re talking about the Tour Saint-Jacques, the one I want to visit this weekend. We’re going to have to get up really early on Sunday morning to make reservations.”

After being closed to the public for most of its 500 year history, the Tour Saint-Jacques received permission to temporarily open its doors to visitors from July 5 until September 15, 2013.Read more

Lavender fields of Haut Provence: a photo essay

by Phoebe from Lou Messugo, a traveller, francophile, expat, mum and foodie now living in Roquefort les Pins where she runs a gîte after many years of travelling and living in Asia, Eastern Europe and Australia

lvndr5Last weekend we went to see the lavender fields in Haut Provence, something that’s been on my bucket list for a while now and I wasn’t disappointed.  That was a typically British understatement; I LOVED it! It was absolutely gorgeous.  The views, the smells, the colours, the bees, everything was just sublime. It was so great that I now want to go back and stay over night to be able to photograph the fields in the early morning and evening light.  Read more

Schizofrenchia

by Bread is Pain, a 30-something American living in the Rhone-Alps, getting her master’s degree, learning French and slowly eating and drinking herself through the country

From the corner of my eye I see my Mother watching me with a wry expression on her face.  I give her a look as if to say “quoi?!” and return to my conversation.  I am discussing, in French, the various differences between French culture and American culture with MB’s family; nothing out of the ordinary is being said so I am perplexed by my Mother’s seeming amusement.  Finally the conversation comes to an end and I stalk over to her in the corner.

“What was that, Mom?”  I ask, while mimicking the face she was giving me during the conversation. Read more

 

Friday’s French – offrir

You’ve probably heard of faux amis, literally “false friends” or “false cognates”, which are words that look the same in two languages but have different meanings. The word blocage which I talked about last week is an excellent example. Sometimes the meaning is totally different while in other cases, it’s quite subtle.

Take offrir and “offer”. Maybe you think they mean the same thing, but they are really not interchangeable at all.

We’re walking along, looking at the market stalls. I see something I like, but hesitate to buy it. Je te l’offre, says my husband. That means that he’s going to pay. We wouldn’t say in English “I’ll offer it to you”, but something more along the lines of “Why don’t I get it for you?” or “My treat”.

If I want to tell someone that my husband bought me a watch for my birthday, I’d say, Mon mari m’a offert une montre pour mon anniversaire rather than Mon mari m’a acheté une montre pour mon anniversaire which is perfectly correct but not nearly as elegant. Jean Michel would certainly not say it!

If I were to say, “my husband offered me a watch for my birthday”, it doesn’t necessarily mean that that’s what he ended up buying. What it really means is that he “offered to buy me a watch” and I could say yes or no.

valentine_flowers

In English, we talk about offering flowers and it’s the same in French : il m’a offert des fleurs.

We also offer someone a drink in English; in French we would say proposer à boire or offrir à boire when there is no danger of confusion. When there is a possibility of refusal, proposer is usually the appropriate  term. Note the use of boire (to drink) for “a drink”. Even a toddler will say à boire if he’s thirsty or à manger if he’s hungry and not boisson or nourriture.

“Il m’a proposé deux vins différents” is quite different from “il m’a offert deux vins différents”. In the first case, he gave me a choice of two different wines while in the second case he gave them to me as a present.

“I offered to help him” = J’ai proposé de l’aider whereas Je lui ai proposé de l’aide could mean that I offered him financial help.

And here’s another time we say “offer” in English but not offrir in French. “I’ll raise the subject when a suitable occasion offers itself” = Je lui en parlerai lorsque l’occasion se présentera. And there’s that very annoying future tense that you have to use in French when we use the present in English. Remember the rule: when future is implied, future must be used and especially with quand and lorsque.

To offer one’s sympathy is faire/présenter/offrir ses condoléances. And while we’re on the subject, an American friend asked me recently what she should say to her neighbour whose wife had just died. The answer is very simple. You shake the person’s hand and simply say Toutes mes condoléances or Je vous/te présente toutes mes condoléances. In English, we would say “I’m very sorry about your wife”,”You and your family are in my thoughts”, “I am sorry for your loss” “You have my deepest sympathy” and so on.

Friday’s French – merde

When kids start to learn a foreign language, the first thing they do is to find out how to say all the four (or five) letter words they know. They’re called gros mots or coarse words in French.

I never say “shit” in English but I do occasionally say merde because for some unknown reason it isn’t nearly as vulgar in French as it is in English. I guess that explains the English expression “excuse/pardon my French”.

The equivalent of “sugar” is mercredi (Wednesday) and a softer variant is merdum with the emphasis on the last syllable.

Buren columns with the temporary Comédie Française theatre on the left
Buren columns with the temporary Comédie Française theatre on the left

But that isn’t actually the subject of this post. Merde is what you say to an actor or singer before a performance pour conjurer le sort, just as we say “break a leg” because wishing someone good luck might bring exactly the opposite.

It seems that the use of merde in French comes from the time when people drew up in front of the theatre in horse-drawn carriages, thus littering the pavement with horse dung. Since the amount deposited was directly proportional to the number of people attending the play, it was the done thing to wish the actors beaucoup de merdes.

And while we’re on the subject of superstition and actors, you can give an actress roses but never carnations. It seems that when actors were employed permanently, the director used to give a bouquet of roses to the actresses whose contracts were renewed but only cheaper carnations to the others.

You’re not supposed to whistle on stage or in the wings either as it could bring bad luck. There are two possible explanations for this. Back in the old days, stage hands used to whistle instructions to each other when changing scenery which meant that if the actors started whistling too, it could create confusion.  Or it could come from the time when gas lighting was used in the theatre. If the pilot light went out when the lights were dimmed, gas could escape causing an explosion. The escaping gas made a characteristic whistling sound which could be overridden by any other kind of whistling.

Another word you can’t use is corde (rope) which is replaced by guinde. Depending on the time and place, saying corde was considered “fatal” and could lead to death while in others, you had to buy drinks for everyone within hearing distance. It seems it’s a navy superstition where a rope is considered to be an instrument of torture. The only corde present in a theatre is a corde à piano which has nothing to do with music but is made of steel and used to open and close the curtain.

Which brings me to rideau which is the normal term for curtain and is prohibited in the theatre because it’s supposed to bring bad luck. Pendrillon is used instead or the more recent term taps. I don’t know why.

The colour green is considered bad luck too, except for clowns. There are several explanations here: green was not an attractive colour under 19th century lighting; the copper or cyanide oxide used to dye clothing is poisonous; and Molière, one of France’s most famous actors/playwrights, was wearing green at his last performance at the Comédie Française before he died.

Thank you, French Wikipedia, for all these little tidbits.

Friday’s French – blocage

I’m introducing an Australian acquaintance to Jean Michel. “Bonjour”,  she says, then turning to me, somewhat flustered, “I’m tongue-tied. How do I say that in French?”

“Langue coupée”, I say rather doubtfully. “No, I know, je suis bloquée, j’ai un blocage.” “Ah, then it doesn’t mean the same as the English word ‘blockage'”, she laughs.

Definitely not!

Bloquer et blocage are actually used quite a lot in French and are often rather annoying to translate into English.

La porte est bloquée : I can’t get the door open.

Il s’est garé trop près, il a complètement bloqué la sortie : he parked too close to me and stopped me getting out.

Bloquer la vis: turn the screw until it won’t go any further.

Il faut bloquer la porte avec une chaise : you have to keep the door open with a chair.

So how do you say “blockage” in French? In the medical sense, it’s obstruction except when it’s intestinal and then it’s occlusion.

You can sometimes use boucher as well e.g. l’évier est bouché: the drain’s blocked.

I should also mention that people are often intimidated about speaking French in front of me, but they shouldn’t be. I’m always so grateful that they can talk to Jean Michel who is a victim of the atrocious French language teaching system and has a poor memory for vocabulary. Remember – I was once a beginner too!

Friday’s French – chateaux and castles

When is a castle not a castle? When it’s a chateau.

Château de Chaumont
Château de Chaumont

The two words have the same Latin origin – castellum, meaning fortress. The transformation from ca to cha in French is very common : cat/chat, cauldron/chaudron, cart/charrette, etc. In château, the “s” has done its usual disappearing act and turned into a circumflex e.g. pasta/pâte, feast/fête, master/maître. Then the “l” has been vocalised which means that it has become a vowel, which is another typical change, witness by camel/chameau and cauldron/chaudron above.

What is generally called a castle in English is actually a château fort in French. Prime examples are Chinon and Angers. Fort means strong and is obviously at the origin of fort/fort and fortress/forteresse. We have our Anglosaxon word stronghold. Châteaux forts had moats/fosses, ramparts/ramparts, towers/tours and keeps/donjons.

Château d'Angers
Château d’Angers

A château does not have to be fortified, nor even be royal, so what can and cannot be described in French as a château is somewhat nebulous.

The châteaux in the Loire Valley, such as Chenonceau, Chaumont and Chambord, were never built to offer protection but they were mostly owned and built by royalty. Others, such as Azay le Rideau and Villandry, were often stately homes built by rich financiers and such like with all the trappings of a château. I guess they could roughly be described as pleasure castles.

Château d'Azay le Rideau
Château d’Azay le Rideau

The plural of château in French is châteaux, but in English you can choose between châteaux and chateaus and there’s no obligation to keep the circumflex or chapeau as it’s often called in French.

There are two other common uses of the word château. In the Bordeaux area (bordeaux wine is written with a small letter, by the way, in both French and English), all vineyards are châteaux whether big or small. The same does not apply to other wine-growing areas in France (but the small letter still applies – champagne from Champagne, burgundy/bourgogne from Burgundy/Bourgogne, chinon from Chinon).

Château d'eau
Château d’eau

Then there is the château d’eau which is a water tower and, to me, is the strangest use of the word. They certainly don’t look like castles. I have to be honest and say that I had never noticed any water towers in Australia but in France, you can’t miss them!

Last, by not least, we have the château de cartes which is our humble house of cards.

Friday’s French – cloche

One of the most significant differences between French and English technical vocabulary is that the French terms often describe appearance while the English terms refer to purpose or use.

A prime example is cloche. It’s original meaning is bell, as in church bell, with clochette used to signify the smaller version. Church bells live in clochers, there being no distinction between the pointy ones (steeples) and the square ones (church towers).

cheverny_clocher

However, it is also means the lid used to cover a plate to keep the contents hot or to cover a cheese platter, because it roughly looks like a bell.

This has given rise to derivatives such as déclocher, to uncover a plate.

There is a verb clocher that actually has nothing to do with cloche and derives from low Latin clocca, whereas clocher comes from the popular Latin cloppicare meaning “to limp”. It has given a series of familiar expressions meaning that something isn’t right.

Qu’est-ce qui cloche? = what’s up ? what’s gone wrong ?

Il y a quelque chose qui  cloche (in which someone is saying) = Something’s not right. That doesn’t make sense.

Il y a quelque chose qui cloche dans le moteur = There’s something wrong with the engine.

Yesterday we were visiting Château de Villesavin near Chambord and came across another type of cloche or globe in the bridal museum.

cloche_room

At first glance, I thought they were graveyard flowers, which seemed an odd thing to collect, but Jean Michel said his grandmother had one so I took a second look. They were used to keep the bride’s headpiece after the wedding and have a high symbolic content.

It was the bride’s mother who designed and gave the globe to her daughter.

two_cloches

Nearly all of them had mirrors. A mirror means sincerity, only reflecting what it sees. The large mirror in the middle is the marriage mirror, the reflection of life. The small rectangular mirrors are the number of years the couple courted. The small losenge-shaped mirrors are the number of children wanted I (don’t know who decided that though, the bride or the bride’s mother!)

newly_weds

Inside the globes, doves are the symbol of peace, ivy leaves of attachment, grapevine leaves of abundance and prosperity ; oak symbolises strength, love and health, linden fidelity (which is why linden trees are often planted at the entrance of a property), clover means happiness, a sheaf of wheat is to remind the husband that he has to work every day of his life to keep his wife and children happy and daisies are the traditional flowers of lovers.

Does these exist in English-speaking countries?

A Neighbourhood Party – New French Words – Holidaying in the Loire Valley

For this Wednesday’s Bloggers Round-up, I’ve chosen a description of France’s neighbours’ day by Phoebe from Lou Messugo, the latest French words to be included in the Larousse and Robert dictionaries by Stéphanie from Blog in France and, to finish up, a guest post I wrote on visiting the Loire Valley for Carolyn from Holidays to Europe. Enoy!

A Neighbourhood Party

by Phoebe from Lou Messugo, a traveller, francophile, expat, mum and foodie now living in Roquefort les Pins where she runs a gîte after many years of travelling and living in Asia, Eastern Europe and Australia

neighbourhood_partyIt was around 9 o’clock on a lovely sunny evening at the end of May when four young Singaporeans appeared at the end of the lane, dragging heavy suitcases and dodging the potholes in the gravel.  It was an unusual sight as 40 or so of us were enjoying an outdoor aperitif.  Our lane is not made for suitcase dragging – it’s barely made for 4 wheel-drive cars – and nobody ever attempts to navigate it on foot with large luggage.  That was from our point of view.  As from these strangers’ point of view, I imagine they didn’t expect quite such a public arrival at Lou Messugo nor so much going on in a quiet village street.  Yes, these were the latest guests turning up several hours late and without their car right in the middle of the annual neighbourhood street party! Read more

New French words

by Stephanie, the Llamalady, from Blog in France, an Irish llama and alpaca breeder living in the centre of France, who also runs a carp fishery and a holiday gite

The 2014 editions of Le Petit Larousse and Le Petit Robert will be coming out in early June and here are a few of the new words you’ll find in them.

chelou: this is the verlan (French slang that reverses the two halves of a word) for louche = shifty, seedy, weird

choupinet = cute, sweet

flash-mob = well, flash-mob ie a group of people who organise via the internet or mobile phone some sort of display in a public place

Googliser = to use Google to find information

nomophobe: great word this! It describes someone who is addicted to their mobile and can’t cope with being without it.

textoter = to communicate by text

Read more

Holidaying in the Loire Valley

by Rosemary Kneipp guest posting for Holidays to Europe, an Australian based business passionate about sharing their European travel expertise and helping travellers to experience the holiday in Europe they have always dreamed of

chaumont_outsideChenonceau, Chambord, Chaumont, Cheverny. Do these names mean anything to you? They are just four of the many pleasure castles or châteaux in the rich undulating landscape of the Loire Valley, just 200 kilometres south of Paris, many of them overlooking France’s longest river, which runs from Ardèche in the Massif Central to Saint Nazaire on the Atlantic seaboard.

The Loire, with its many sandbanks, is no longer navigable and much is untamed. Because it easily overflows its banks, a long dyke runs along each side, with very few constructions. Charming villages dot the countryside in between larger towns such as Amboise and Blois each of which has its own château. Read more

Friday’s French – comme une vache espagnole

Susan from Days on the Claise published a post recently about a florist shop called Vachement Fleurs. She also mentioned in a comment that her neighbour once told her she spoke French comme une vache espagnole – like a Spanish cow. What an insult! But it set me thinking about vache and its variants.

Vachement Fleurs (photo by Susan Walter
Vachement Fleurs (photo by Susan Walter)

Vache espagnole (1627) probably comes from Basque espagnol which is more understandable though still rude.

I have a French friend whose favourite expression – I can hear him saying it as I write – is “Oh, la vache !” which is his empathetic reaction to anything unpleasant.

When you speak of someone as a vache as in quelle vache ! – it’s very close of our “what a sod/swine/cow/bastard”. Vache or grosse vache (fat cow) was also used in the past to designate a prostitute.

Vacherie was originally a herd of cows but now means something nasty or bitchy. Dire des vacheries means making nasty remarks. Quelle vacherie de temps could be used very appropriately to describe the horrendous weather we’re having to put up with at the moment in France. Il m’a fait une vacherie means that he played a dirty trick on me.

The adjective vachement developed along the same lines and was originally negative but now is simply used for emphasis. You can say il faisait vachement mauvais (it was really awful weather) just as easily as il faisait vachement beau (it was really good weather).  A very common expression is vachement sympa which means “really cool”.

vachement_sympa

Jean Michel says he never uses vachement, that it’s not very elegant, but I’ve heard all sorts of people use it and I’m sure he does too.

The first time I heard the word was in Noumea back in the early seventies when I was still at university, in the expression vachement chouette, roughly meaning “it’s pretty good”, which is very strange because a chouette is an owl (the sort without those pointed tufts on their head called aigrettes in French – otherwise they’re called hibou) . Afterwards, we all used to go around saying “it’s cowly owl” and laughing uproariously. We were very young and silly in those days …

Chouette (no pointed tufts)
Hibou (with pointed tufts)

I checked the origin of chouette but nobody knows why it started to be used in the early 1800s to mean something pleasant. Rabelais used it to describe a loose woman. A connection maybe?

Chouette - without pointed tufts
Chouette – without pointed tufts

Incidentally, vachement fleurs doesn’t appear to have any particular significance. I don’t know whether it’s connected to Vachement Fleur, a chain of florists in Belgium, but they don’t have an “s” on “fleur”.

Friday’s French – la bise

After my post on Bonjour, I’ve been asked to write about la bise, one of the great mysteries of French social interaction. I’ve heard it described as the air kiss which isn’t a bad definition. You lean over towards the other person and touch first one cheek and then the other with your own cheek, kissing the air with or without a smack or a movement of the lips as you do so. The number varies from two to four and is both regional and personal.

Me giving the bise to Françoise - note my right hand
Me giving the bise to Françoise – note my right hand

I’d like to start by saying that the more casually you deal with the situation, the easier it will be.

One of the great dilemmas facing Anglosaxons is HOW MANY.

Well, it’s up to you to decide. Why should the other person always determine the number of bises and not you just because they’re French? Yet that is what most Anglosavons believe.

Going towards the left cheek
Going towards the left cheek

You can choose the usual number practised in the area you live in – a map has even been drawn up!  – and if someone doesn’t reciprocate with the same number, just laugh and say moi c’est deux or moi c’est quatre or whatever. Or you can wait and see what the other person does because the number is not only regional, but also depends on social class, the number being less the higher you go.

Which side to start with can be a problem as well. It’s very strange, in my opinion, that not everyone starts on the same side. I always go to the left first (right cheek), which seems to work most of the time, but occasionally you have someone who starts on the right. It would seem that left-handers have a tendency to go in the other direction. Once again, you can let the other person initiate the procedure is you’re worried. It can also be a question of size and personality!

Jean Michel giving the bise to Françoise, starting on the rigth
Jean Michel giving the bise to Françoise, starting on the rigth

The bise is part of a whole ritual among young people, especially teenagers and you’ll see them arrive at school and do the rounds of all their friends. Even some of the boys do it among themselves which surprise Anglosaxons.

La bise is not restricted to female/female and female/male but male/male is usually only practised among men who know each other well, particularly family members.  A friend told me a very funny story about an American friend visiting her who witnessed two men – firemen at that – affectionately greet each other with the bise. She nearly keeled over with surprise!

Middle of bise - changing sides
Middle of bise – changing sides

Jean Michel only kisses male members of his immediate family (father, brothers, sons) and one male friend who doesn’t have any family of his own and always insists on giving the bise. It seems to be a generational thing as well, becoming more prevalent among the younger generations.

During my personal bise survey (and thank you for all your answers), many friends of my generation (50 +) complained about the fact that it has become too systematic among people who hardly know each other, such as in a gym class  or other activity. Feel perflectly free just to say Bonjour tout le monde if you don’t want to do the rounds. If challenged, you can say Je ne suis pas bisous, which roughly means means “I’m not the kissy type”.

The big no-no is kissing anyone apart from your partner on the lips and even on the cheek. It feels so strange to me now that even with my Australian family I just can’t do it and always say We’ll do it the French way.

left_mw

If you’re not sure whether or not you should give someone a bise, you can wait for them to take the initiative if they are older and take the initiative yourself if they’re younger. If they are the same age, you can choose. If you’re hesitating, it’s best to announce what you’re going to do, je vous fais la bise ou je te fais la bise so that the other person knows what’s going on.

A woman can show she doesn’t want a bise from a man by body language – not offering her cheek, extending her hand instead, avoiding eye contact, keeping her distance. A man should respect that.

Children are often taught to give kiss everyone and will sometimes proffer their lips. I personally only told my children to say bonjour verbally because I remember my French tutor at university explaining once how she hated being forced to kiss people she didn’t know as a child.

Another question is health of course. If you have a cold sore (herpes), you should, of course, not have any contact with another person, but I am always surprised to see how many people don’t respect such as simple rule. All you have to say is J’ai un bouton. The same applies is you are sick, including colds. And don’t hesitate to refuse is the other person has the sniffles.

I haven’t touched on la bise in the workplace but I need another post for that!