French

It’s such a cliché that French is a language of politeness that one hesitates to bring it up. But living in a French-speaking country one is constantly delighted by the archaic phraseology and the implicit graciousness of the language and the people who use it. It is hard to believe that people still end letters with the phrase: Allow me, respected sir, to present you my most distinguished compliments.

Of course, French, much to the annoyance of the establishment, is not what it used to be. Try this:

1000 supporters étaient au match de football. Après, le leader du club a donné les job descriptions au staff.

One of the fascinating things about languages is that translation can only go so far, and that just translating words in no way reflects the values of the society which uses those words.

When I first had to apologize for some minor transgression, I looked up the word sorry in the dictionary. Desolé. Desolated??? That sounds a bit strong. But no, that’s the word, and while so much more apologetic than the mumbled sorry which we are used to, it is also slightly over the top in a lovely latin sense. So you may say that you are sorry, and go into the elaborate excuses of a courtier, but everyone knows that it means very little while enjoying the performance.

And then, when you meet someone for the first time, it’s not just “Hi” but Enchanté. Really. And if you feel a bit of a fool saying it, they’ll say it first and you quickly get into the reflex response.

I love it when a burly man expresses his shock at a piece of news by uttering Oh la la! And it is not just the words which are funny: it is the pitch of the voice, that caricature sing-song Frenchness. Such a contrast with your typical Anglophone monotone.

But there’s another word which I love. Nothing to do with politeness, but a wonderful word to punctuate dialogue. It’s often used in the office when someone is explaining something. His monologue ends, and with all eyes turned on him, he pauses a little, and says, “Voila”.

Changing tacks somewhat there are two words which are quite amusing: rubber stamp = tampon. The last book in the Bible, Revelations = Apocalypse.

I’m sure it romanticises things to assume that the abrupt language of emails and text messaging hasn’t happened in French as well. But you can’t help feeling that their language is a bit more civilised in spite of tampons and apocalypses.

Voila.