Tag Archives: language learning

rire & sourire

Posted in French by

adorable smile

It occurred to me the other day that sourire (smile) literally means ‘under-laugh’ (sous-rire). Something about that is so lovely.

I looked up the etymology and here’s what I found:

“Parce qu’il vient autant du cœur que de la raison, le sourire dit tout et son contraire. Première forme de langage non verbal, il crée instantanément du lien lorsqu’il est authentique, génère de l’inquiétude lorsqu’il est rictus ou provoque un malaise lorsqu’il est forcé.  …

Son étymologie est mal définie: du latin subridere, il viendrait ‘avant le rire,’ dont il serait un avatar inachevé et silencieux, esquissé et contenu. Le sourire ne serait-il qu’un sous-rire, un rire au rabais?

Avant de rire, nous avons souri. Le bébé sourit dès la naissance, alors que les premiers éclats de rire ne commencent qu’entre 4 et 8 mois. Sourire est un comportement inné, et non un apprentissage culturel. …

Le sourire est donc loin d’être une forme affaiblie du rire. … ‘Le sourire est la perfection du rire,’ écrit le philosophe Alain à propos de la plus subtile des expressions humaines.”

My butchery of an interpretation (corrections welcome!):

“Because it comes as much from the heart as from the mind, the smile tells us everything and nothing. The first form of non-verbal language, it instantly creates a connection when it is authentic, generates uneasiness when it is a grin, or provokes malaise when it is forced.

Its etymology is badly defined: from the latin subridere, it would come ‘before the laugh,” which would make it an unfinished and silent transformation, sketchy and contained. [Editor’s note: Wtf??] The smile would be but an under-laugh, a cheap laugh.

Before laughing, we smiled. The baby smiles from birth, while the first peels of laughter don’t occur until sometime between 4 and 8 months. To smile is something that happens on the inside, and not culturally learned behaviour.

The smile is therefore far from being a weakened form of laughter. ‘The smile is the perfection of laughter,’ writes philospher Alain about the most subtle of human expressions.”

Those French and their poetic way with language. (But, oh, what a mockery my translation makes of it.)

(Photo: My niece’s loveliest of smiles, surpassed only by her laughter.)

i forgot to give this post a title

Posted in French by

angry white cat

Remember how Jordan described her language exchange experience as akin to online dating? Well…

I was cleaning out my email inbox, which is full of unread messages I’ve received from people who found me on conversationexchange.com, the site that connects people who want to learn the other’s language. I’ve been ignoring the message notifications for awhile now, since I’m happy with my current situation Skyping once a week with Philippe. I don’t have the time or inclination to do it more often than that, and we always have stuff to talk about, so there’s no point being in touch with other people.

I was curious, though, about who had contacted me. I didn’t want to delete the message notifications without first reading their actual messages, so I logged in to Conversation Exchange for the first time in months.

I worked my way backwards through my inbox, reading everyone’s message and then looking at their profile. I was happy to confirm that I wasn’t missing out on anything. When I got near the bottom I saw my initial emails with Philippe. I re-read them and looked at his profile, wondering whether the way he presented himself would align with my current impression of him. I was amused to see that his profile picture is of a very fat angry-looking cat that he has never once mentioned.

I was less amused to notice that his last log-in date was that very day. Despite acknowledging my own ridiculousness, I felt slightly wounded. Philippe is Skyping with other people? How does he find the time? What does he talk to them about? Are they better at French than me? Do they know about his pissed-off cat?

It had crossed my mind before then that Philippe might have more than one conversation partner since he speaks much better English than I speak French. He’s got to be practicing a whole lot more than me. But seeing such open evidence of his philandering took me aback.

Not being completely removed from reality, I quickly recovered and reasoned that if I’m not fully satisfying Philippe (linguistically!), it’s perfectly fine for him to look elsewhere to meet his needs. I’m OK with polyamory in this particular relationship. Especially because if we’re going to take the dating analogy to its logical extreme, I basically attend swingers orgies every Monday night.

(Photo of a cat that resembles but is definitely not Philippe’s actual cat: Craig / Tjflex2)

the slow decline

Posted in French, inspiration & encouragement, learning tools, Spanish by

star wars lego man sisyphusI don’t know why I’m so discouraged. I have been going to French conversation Meetups every Monday, and this past Monday I even Skyped with Philippe from home and then immediately hopped on a train to talk French some more and then caught myself talking to myself in French on the way home.

But I originally committed to a half hour a day of French and a half hour of Spanish, and I have now all but abandoned Spanish and reduced French to conversation alone. I’m afraid all the progress I made through the hundreds of hours of work I put in at the outset are going to disappear.

So, I need a new plan. I am thinking about signing up for a Spanish class, maybe through Fluent City. I also think my company may have renewed its Rosetta Stone license in which case I can try to do a Spanish course that way. I’ll try to watch one episode of Destinos every weekend because I do wonder whatever happened to Raquel and whatshisface (sure sign it’s been too long). Oh yeah, Arturo! I wonder what happened with Raquel & Arturo’s overwrought romance.

And maybe I will start reading French books as a way to jog my memory about verb forms and vocab I keep forgetting. I need to bug Thomas for one of his novels. Thomas, if you’re reading… bring on the books!

I guess I was overambitious and need to lower my expectations for myself. There have been other things I’ve become interested in doing that I wouldn’t have time for if I kept up the hour-a-day routine. It’s not because I’m lazy, it’s because I lead such a jam-packed, engaging life. Yeah, that’s what I’ll tell myself…

(Photo: Kristina Alexanderson)

the best of words, the worst of words: beauté and fourchette

Posted in best words & worst words, French by

the best word: beauteFollowing hot on the heels of Tuesday’s best and worst words, chosen for their signification, here are a best word and worst word chosen solely for their sounds.

Clovis is an artist with a studio in Bushwick who paints monochromatic extreme close ups of people’s faces. I wish I had one to post here but alas it didn’t occur to me to ask. Take my word for it, though, they are really wonderful.

His favorite word, beauté (beauty), seemed a bit of an obvious choice until he explained why. It’s not the meaning of the word that he likes but the sound. “Parce que le mot est rond.” (“Because the word is round.”) Which is to say, he loves the word beauté for the word’s beauty. Clovis insisted that even if beauté actually meant something terrible like decrepitude or diarrhea (my examples, not his), he’d still love it.

Clovis’ least favorite word seems hilariously random to me, especially when paired with beauté. But Clovis just does not like the sound of fourchette (fork). He said in French, “It’s not the meaning at all. A fork is very useful, but the word is like whiplash (un coup de fouet).”

I see what he means – the four takes its time rolling off the tongue and then the ette erupts out at the end. It’s jarring. the worst word: fourchetteBut I have to admit I like it – along with assiette (plate) and serviette (napkin). Why all the dinnerwear ending with ette?

In any case… Clovis – whose work is all about color – told me that he thinks of words in terms of color as well. Synesthesia, I love it! “Some are hot colors and some are cold colors, and some I prefer more than others.” Since Clovis said beauté was hot and fourchette was cold, I guess he likes a warm palette (another ette word I love).

Informal poll: fourchette, love it or hate it?

the best of words, the worst of words: lumière and obscurité

Posted in best words & worst words, French, le week-end by

Thomas' favorite word: lumiere

This past weekend I had the pleasure of going to my former downstairs neighbor’s cocktail party in my old building, three blocks away from my new one. In addition to being fascinating and fabulous herself, Francesca has a set of fascinating and fabulous friends, two of whom are French. And thus, another edition of “best words, worst words” comes your way…

Thomas is a novelist whose work I am excited to dive into. He assured me that I would be able to read it in the original French. He is also about to shoot a documentary about Bushwick artists, including Clovis, who will be featured in the next installment of best words, worst words.

I was surprised at the ease with which Thomas chose his superlative words. No deliberation at all; they came right to him.

His favorite: lumière (light). Why? Because light signifies “knowledge, God, beauty. It’s the opposite of obscurity.”

And his least favorite?Thomas' least favorite word: obscurite

Logically, obscurité (darkness, obscurity). Thomas believes that people cannot stand to live in obscurity – that they crave to be in the light, to be seen and known. Yet he also believes that people can’t live entirely in the light – that they need a small amount of obscurity to exist.

I don’t usually think of light and darkness as aspects of the human condition, but leave it to a writer to bring the poetry. Or leave it to the French language, I suppose. Until I noticed that obscurité translates to both darkness and obscurity, I hadn’t really linked the two. Darkness had always seemed physical and obscurity existential, but I suppose there is a lot of crossover – darkness can be existential and obscurity can be physical. I love these moments of lexical epiphany!

the meetup chronicles

Posted in French, music by

Meetup attendees

First, as is my Meetup wont, I delayed and dilly dallied. The result of this procrastination was 1. a très chic little black dress from a boutique within a stone’s throw of the Meetup location, and 2. the sinking feeling that the only French I would be hearing all night would be the lovely refrains of “Bonnie and Clyde.” I spent so long biding my time in the shop that the CD looped and the song played twice.

When I finally arrived at the bar it was 2 hours into the Meetup and I figured if anyone were left they would surely be packing up by now. I tried to make myself feel less guilty by reasoning that LBDs are a very Parisian concept, so even if I hadn’t spoken the language that night, I had still practiced cultural immersion. That logic was not very sound, but I’m happy to report that since there was a small but still-going-strong group of people in the bar, I didn’t have to make excuses after all.

Among the crew were a few people I had met before – Dykeman, Anney and Igor (the Parisian-bred teacher from this post).Dykeman and Rohan at Meetup

Above: Dykeman and Rohan, a student from Beijing who was braving a Meetup after only a month of French study. Inspiring!

Anney at Meetup

Above: Anney’s got a lovely smile, n’est-ce pas?

Here are two fun facts that I learned in the course of our conversation:

  • En fer (of iron), en faire (do it), and enfer (hell) are all pronounced the same way. You have to tell the difference contextually. Also, enfer is almost always proceeded by “the,” as in l’enfer.
  • In English, you’d say, “kill two birds with one stone.” In French, you’d say, “d’une pierre, deux coups.” (Two blows from one stone.) It’s interesting how similar in concept and structure idiomatic phrases can be, while still quite different in language. When I noted the resemblance, Igor joked, “Yes, but the French, we don’t kill” – an inadvertent political commentary.

Igor at Meetup

That’s Igor, above.

Speaking of American gun violence… here’s Luna’s cover of “Bonnie and Clyde” for your evening singalong.

enjoy the weekend!

Posted in French, le week-end, movies & tv, travel by

J'irais dormir chez vois - en Amerique

I’m about to head out for a night on the town but before I do… a couple of links to start your weekend. Design Sponge went all out on the French front today with two fun posts:

– a roundup of gorgeous French home tours

– 24 hours in Paris with someone who knows what’s what

This weekend I am due to have my third chat with my very own Parisian pal, Philippe. So far he has introduced me to Peppa Cochon, otherwise known as Peppa Pig, as well as to this Web series about the adventures of a Frenchman abroad in America. It’s hard to watch as an English speaker because the original English audio under the French voiceover gets distracting, but the delightfulness of the show makes it worth it. I sort of want to rip this concept off and putter my way around France butting into interesting-looking people’s lives and making myself right at home after inviting myself over.

To be fair, Antoine’s show is actually derivative, whether unknowingly or not, of an amazing project from the early days of the Internet, Let Me Stay For a Day.

In any case… here’s wishing you an adventurous and intriguing-person-filled weekend! Or whatever else you’d like it to be…

(Photo: J’irais dormir chez vous)

better hurry up!

Posted in French, learning tools, Spanish by

hourglass

Though this article reveals the side benefit of learning language at a later age, I choose to focus on its glass-half-empty takeaway: time is running out to become proficient in another language. I better get this show on the road if I ever hope to bavarder with the best of them (not to mention hablar or leh-soh-kheh-ahkh – that’s chitchat in Hebrew).

To that end, I spent my last day off finally figuring out Anki and creating flashcards for the fifty or so words I’ve jotted down so far. I also read a random article about the special needs of refugee children who come to France, and I was delighted to discover that I understood every single sentence if not every single word. And tonight I’m going to queue up another episode of Destinos, which has taken a rather boring turn now that I’m about halfway through and she of the scrunchies and pastel pantsuits, Raquel Rodriguez, is back in Mexico after adventures in Spain, Argentina and Puerto Rico. I’m hoping the energy will pick up again soon, once Raquel is reunited with her Porteño love interest, Arturo, who’s en route to join her at the moment. Not that there is anything remotely sexy about them – I have only ever seen them hold hands and stage-kiss and giggle together. I suppose that’s what’s to be expected from a soap opera made for high school students.

(Photo: Swim Parallel)

le three day week-end!

Posted in le week-end, learning tools by

Détail de "Blah, blah, blah" du studio Louise Campbell (Maison d

I only remembered yesterday that I had taken today off from work, which was a very, very pleasant surprise. I’m about to pack up my laptop and head to a neighborhood cafe in the hopes the cute environs will make my apartment searching just a little more palatable. I also used the morning to sign up for not one but two language chat programs. I learned about both of them – Conversation Exchange and Shared Talk – through people I interviewed for this blog. I knew this little enterprise would pay off!

I didn’t actually do any chatting through the chat programs today. I just signed up for them and called it a (baby steps) day. I couldn’t even get my mic to work with one of the sites but whatever, it’s a good start after many weeks of moping around doing not an ounce of anything language-related.

May the weekend bring lots of joy and plenty of bavarder!

(Photo: Detail of Louise Campbell’s “Blah, blah, blah,” by Jean-Pierre Dalbéra)

investing in experiences

Posted in inspiration & encouragement, travel by

piggy bank

I love this post by Design Sponge’s Amy Azzarito, about rechanneling her money from “things” into “experiences.” She’s committed to that practice in theory, but as she points out, “it’s easier to say that you’re going to stop buying things (and invest in experiences instead) than it is to do it.” Especially in New York City, I would add.

It’s really hard to keep from buying stuff I can technically afford – whether a pair of shoes I really want or the new mattress I actually really need – when the alternatives seem to be spending the money on some other thing instead, using it for a fairly small beans experience, or putting it away towards a far-into-the-future goal that is too lofty and nebulous to feel real (i.e. saving enough to ever retire).

It became easier for Amy when she earmarked that money towards a specific, medium-term “experience” goal instead – in her case (and mine), travel:

One of the best things that helped me through my detox diet was deciding what my next travel experience (my ultimate goal) was going to be. Looking at travel books (which I checked out from the library) and pricing out trip options seriously helped curb spending. Those Vans shoes basically equaled a night in a hotel and once I started looking at things through my travel goggles, I was much less likely to even consider spending the money on them.

“Travel goggles” is an apt term for what happens when you commit to a plan that requires lots of vision and tenacity and temptation resistance but that makes you super excited and motivated, too. Ever since I decided to do a self-styled study abroad sabbatical – and priced out how much it will cost – I’ve found it easier to pass up non-essential purchases. I know that to make my trip a reality I’ll have to aggressively reroute all my disposable income – for two years – towards that dream. God knows I won’t be able to stay the course for a third year, so it’s really important that I don’t cheat on my saving commitment.

That means I’ll be whipping out my travel goggles often – whenever I am staring down a pair of miraculously comfortable heels, or burning soup in my paltry excuse for a saucepan, or feeling sad about the state of my apartment’s furnishings. Another night (or 700) on my glorified futon now means another night in West Africa later.

P.S. Here’s another one of Amy’s posts – about facing the fear of learning a second language – that seemed written just for me, apart from the fact that I’m sure a million people can relate to it.

(Photo: Philip Brewer)