Interesting French word : Crapoter

If you ever felt the peer pressure de fumer* in your youth, you may have crapoté* your first Marlboro Red. The French equivalent of the charming Aussie expression ‘bum puffing’, crapoter is a verb meaning to smoke a cigarette without inhaling. 

While that might sound like the best thing to do if forced to light up, it’s considered cringe-worthy among French teens. Toutefois*, that might be changing.
While smoking is still much more prevalent in France than en Australie*, the health message appears to be working. In 2021, 30% of French ados* had ever tried smoking, versus 52% in 2010. (In Australia, 97% of those aged 15-17 had never tried smoking, according to the National Health Survey.)

So now you know the word for fake smoking, how about fake singing? Can you remember it from December’s Chouchou News? If not, check it out here.

*to smoke | *smoked without inhaling |*However | *in Australia | *adolescents

Word power: feu

Looking to improve your French vocabulaire*? There’s un petit mot* you’ve probably come across that will help you péter le feu. Literally translated as ‘farting fire’, this charming expression simply means firing on all cylinders or being in good form. (Don’t you just love the French?)

The word in question? Feu, bien sûr*. 

Meaning ‘fire’, feu* is a handy word to know if you like cuisiner* or camping. But its uses don’t end there. 

Here are a few to add to your repertoire. Or, si tu as le feu sacré*, you can explore the full list at your leisure. 

*vocabulary | *a little word | *fire on all cylinders/ be in good form or health |*Fire, of course |*fire |*to cook |*if you have a fire in your belly/ if you’re very enthusiastic

Interesting French word: chanter en yaourt

While it might sound like a kind of vocal training best avoided by the lactose intolerant, this amusing French phrase has zero to do with dairy. And we’re betting you’ve even done it yourself – possibly during a trip to France. 

Literally translated as ‘singing in yoghurt’, chanter en yaourt means fudging your way through song lyrics using gibberish and, most likely, bravado.

According to Wikipedia, it’s “une technique qui consiste à chanter en produisant des sons, des onomatopées, des syllabes qui font penser qu'il s'agit d'une langue réelle.” (Traduction*: a technique that consists of singing while producing sounds, onomatopoeias, syllables that make people think that it is a real language.)

The term can apply to any ‘fake singing’ but most often refers to attempting to sing in another language. Why not give it a go next time les paroles* escape you?

*translation | *the song lyrics

When there are no words

Don’t we all love it when we’re able to translate from our mother tongue into French mot pour mot*? It’s reassuring in a way, to know that there is true common ground to be found between the two languages.

Quelle douleur exquise*, though, when we come across words that simply defy translation. Though sometimes mind-bendingly uncomfortable, there’s a beauty in knowing that the lived experience of one culture requires description, while the idea itself is not even conceived of in another. Vive la différence*!

word for word | What exquisite pain | Long live difference!

Expressions sur la joie

As éphémère* as it may be, we’re all on the hunt for it in some fashion.

May simply reading about it bring some bonheur* to your day.

Merci à Élodie pour l’inspiration pour ce post*.

*ephemeral | *happiness | *Thanks to Elodie for the inspiration for this post.

Beaucoup de problèmes !

Beaucoup* is one of the words we learn very early on in French. En fait*, even if you’ve never really studied French, you’ll most likely know the phrase merci beaucoup, meaning ‘thank you very much’ or ‘thanks a lot’.

So what is le problème* ?

It’s often when we want to use the word beaucoup to mean ‘many’, ‘a lot of’ or, less formally, ‘lots of’ that we seem to run into trouble. And this is not big trouble we’re talking about. This is just a small error that many of us make repetitively and that is very easy to fix, so let’s hop to it!

The basic rule is this:

It’s natural for a non-native French speaker to want to say des as we are talking about something plural.

For example:

lots of flowers
a lot of opportunities
many baskets

So we’d quite logically want to say:

beaucoup des fleurs
beaucoup des opportunités
beaucoup des paniers

But please don’t. Just remember that we always say beaucoup de or beaucoup d’ (when your noun starts with a vowel or an ‘h’), despite the fact we’re talking about plural things.

It’s neat in a way, because as you know, de means ‘of’, so it’s quite easy to accept that beaucoup de translates to ‘lots of’ or ‘a lot of’. The correct way to say these things is:

beaucoup de fleurs
beaucoup d’opportunités
beaucoup de paniers

It’s actually quite liberating when you realise you don’t need to care about the gender or the number of the thing(s) you’re describing. Since it’s always going to be beaucoup de (except when you’re dealing with a vowel or ‘h’ and it becomes beaucoup d’), you can just go for it.

beaucoup de bonbons*, beaucoup d’hommes*, beaucoup de sucre*, beaucoup de villes*, beaucoup de temps*, beaucoup d’artistes*, beaucoup de vin*, beaucoup d’amour*…

Before you get too carried away, though, you may have heard that in French there are always exceptions. Ça te parle* ? Well, this is no exception.

This is the one time you can say beaucoup des. As we mentioned before, de means ‘of’, and when we add de to les (the), it becomes des and means ‘of the’. So if your sentence can be translated into English to mean ‘a lot of the’ as opposed to ‘a lot of’, then feel free to break the rule. Ouf* !

Beaucoup des films étaient trop longs cette année.
A lot of the films were too long this year.

Beaucoup des invitées sont arrivés avant lui.
A lot of the guests arrived before him.

C’était Anaïs qui a proposé beaucoup des idées pour le projet.
It’s Anaïs who suggested a lot of the ideas for the project.

Thanks to Thought Co. for inspiring this article.

*A lot / many / lots of | *In fact | *the problem | *a lot of lollies | *a lot of men | *a lot of sugar | *a lot of cities | *a lot of time | *a lot of artists | *a lot of wine | *a lot of love | *Does that ring a bell? | *Phew!

A quest for happiness

Le bonheur* is both a beautiful French word and a noble pursuit, one which French philosophers and writers have pondered for centuries.

Grab a coffee and take the time to reflect sur ces bonnes paroles*.

1. I recognised my happiness by the sound it made in leaving. - Jacques Prévert

2. Happiness is everything that happens between two hassles. - Jean-Baptiste Lafond

3. True happiness costs little: if it’s expensive, it’s not the right type. - François René de Châteaubriand

4. Happiness is continuing to desire what one possesses. - Saint Augustin

5. If you want to understand the word happiness, you need to hear it as a reward and a not a goal. - Antoine St-Exupéry

6. To dream, that’s happiness. To wait, that’s life. - Victor Hugo.

*Happiness | *these words of wisdom

Madeleine de Proust

Talk turned to madeleines* this week at Lingua Franca, which in and of itself, is not a rare occurrence.

However, for once we weren’t rhapsodising about their buttery delights, rather the talk was of les souvenirs* and what provokes them. Pourquoi*?

Because Marcel Proust, a privileged but poorly French writer, who was confined to his bed for much of his life, wrote of an événement déclencheur* in the first volume of his classic text À la Recherche du Temps Perdu*. That event was being handed a madeleine and une tasse de thé* by his mother as he was convalescing, and the taste of that delicious madeleine immediately transported him back to his childhood, when his Tante Léonie* would offer him a taste of hers after she’d dipped it in her lime-flower tea.

With the work spanning seven volumes and containing more than a million words, Proust is not known for his vitesse*. In fact, the madeleine incident occurs only on page 95, so it’s fair to say he’s not a man in a hurry. Nonetheless, the scene is widely recognised as the point where the book really takes off, as detailed in this excellent article from the Penguin website.

Proust had his fans (Virginia Woolf, Grahame Greene, Victor Nabakov) as well as his his detractors (Somerset Maugham, Kazuo Ishiguro) but it’s unlikely any of them would turn down a petite madeleine* if offered by a caring and affectionate aunt.

If all this talk of les pâtisseries* has served to réveiller vos papilles*, voici la recette* again.

Un grand merci à Kathryn* who brought this delightful sujet* to the table at her class on Wednesday night.

*a traditional small cake from the Lorraine region | *memories | *Why? | *trigger event | *In Search of Lost Time | *a cup of tea | *Aunt Léonie | *speed | *little madeleine | *pastries | *wake up your tastebuds | *here is the recipe | *A big thank you to Kathryn | *subject

Brave New Word

In researching portmanteau words for a recent blog post, I came across this 2011 article all about another set of words: les néologismes*.

Where a portemanteau is created by the merging of two or more existing words (think ‘brunch' or ‘brainiac’ in English and ‘franglais’ and ‘courriel’ in French), a neologism is a brand new word, freshly invented….and often created by merging two or more existing words. So in theory all portmanteaux started life as neologisms but not all neologisms are portmanteaux, si ça a du sens*...

Interesting to see that the verb ‘textoter' (to text) is still waiting to take off more than ten years after the article’s publication. It must be said, it doesn’t exactly trip off the tongue, though, does it?

Dommage* about ‘watture’ though, 2013’s winner. Created by combining the English word ‘watt’ and the French word for car (voiture), it’s a new word for an electric car. Not only intelligent* but très utile* these days, non*?

Enjoy.

*neologisms | *if that makes sense… | *Shame | *clever | *very useful | *don’t you think?

Portmanteau words

If, upon hearing the word portmanteau, your mind immediately conjures a vintage Louis Vuitton steamer trunk, félicitations*, you know your luxury leather goods brands. And you’re not wrong, either. The hinged trunk that opens out into a travelling wardrobe is indeed called a portmanteau, and possibly hints at its second meaning as well.

A portmanteau is the combination of two words to create a new word with its own meaning. Portmanteau itself is such an example. Porter (meaning to carry or wear) and manteau (meaning coat) come together to give us the word that describes a mobile wardrobe. While in English we call this combination a portmanteau word, in French it’s called a mot-valise, or word suitcase, which makes sense in a complicated way.

We use portmanteau words all the time in English. Some are so ubiquitous we may not recognise them as such: electrocute (electricity + execute), smog (smoke + fog) and fortnight (fourteen + night). Others are more obvious (and amusing) in their origins: affluenza (affluent + influenza), hangry (hungry + angry) and Brangelina (Brad Pitt + Angelina Jolie) spring to mind.

The French have at least as many portmanteaux as we do in English. Below, a short list of our favourites.

*congratulations

A different type of crèche.

Savez-vous que*…

Though we use the word crèche in English to mean a nursery where babies and young children are cared for during the working day, there is another meaning related to Noël*.

Une crèche* is also the French word for a nativity scene, as it comes from the Old French cresche or ‘crib’.

Not up to speed on your French religious figures’ vocab? N’ayez crainte*, we’ve got you covered.

*Did you know that | *Christmas | *a nativity scene | *Never fear

Let’s get straight to the point.

Allez, allez*! Take 10 minutes to learn these evocative phrases which all use the verb aller*.

*Go, go! | *to go

It’s all back to front.

As a child you may have dabbled in a bit of pig latin, but did you know the French have their own secret language called verlan?

The name verlan itself is in fact an illustration of how this very-commonly used langage* works. To create a word in verlan, we must first identify the sounds of the syllables. The next step is to reverse their order. Attention*, you’re not reversing the letters, you’re inverting the sounds of the syllables.

For example, ‘ver-lan’ is made up of the sounds ‘lan-ver’, and l’envers in French means ‘backwards’. Tu piges*?

If not, don’t worry, it’s not immediately obvious, c’est sûr*, so we’ve given you some more examples below.

Interested in this sort of thing? If you live in Brisbane, we’ll be talking more about this little French quirk at our upcoming P’tit Week-end Immersion (more details here).

If you’re busy or don’t live in the area, please enjoy this video instead, by French artist Stromae, whose very name is verlan for Maestro. Clever, non*?

*language | *Be careful | *Do you get it? | *that’s for sure | *isn’t it?

Tu me manques

If you’re very, very lucky, one day you might wish to tell someone in French that you miss them. Encore mieux*, they might tell you that they’re missing you. Romantique, non*?

Romantique, oui*, but it’s not as easy as you might think.

The verb ‘to miss’ is manquer in French. So far so good, you may think, but this is where it starts to get a little tricky.

In English we say “I miss you". In French though, the structure is the equivalent of “You are missing to me”. That is, in French, the object of your affections takes centre stage, whereas in English it’s all about the person doing the missing.

It may help to think of the verb manquer as ‘to lack’. I find this help me come to grips with the fact that we use an indirect pronoun (to me) rather than a direct one (me). Ne prends pas la tête*, though. If you do structure your sentence in the English way, you’ll just be telling the person that they’re lacking to you, which could spark a conversation all of its own.

Of course, you could always turn this phrase into a question if you wanted to ask someone if they were missing you.

C’est clair*? Maybe not right now, but you will wrap your mind around this counterintuitive little gem in time, c’est promis. One of our Chouchous*, Nora, found this song which she swears has helped her to just that. Merci encore*, Nora.

*better still | *Romantic, isn’t it? | *Romantic, yes | *Don’t worry too much | *Is that clear? | *I promise | *Teacher’s Pets | *Thanks again

Maman a dit que je peux

Many people struggle to keep the French modal verbs vouloir*, pouvoir* and devoir* straight in their heads.

At Lingua Franca, we teach that:

This charming French publicité* for condoms gives us a much more interesting way to remember the verb pouvoir, though. The little boy’s constant refrain is “Maman a dit que je peux” (Mum said I can), reminding us that pouvoir is as much about permission as it is possibility, and this boy is seemingly granted permission around the clock!

Tellement mignon.*

*to want/wish | *to be able to/can | *to have to/must | *ad | *So cute

La rentrée

You may have heard some talk about la rentrée* earlier this month, as French children were preparing to head back to school.

While la rentrée definitely describes the return to school after the long summer holidays in France, it is also used more broadly among the rest of the population.

In August, virtually the whole of France slows to a crawl, with not only schools but many businesses, restaurants and even the government shutting up shop for the hottest of the summer weather.

Almost everyone takes a holiday away from their home town. The most privileged may eye off international experiences and those on more modest budgets may faire du camping*. Regardless of the destination, le but* is to leave behind le quotidien* for a chance to changer les idées*. It’s for this reason that la rentrée holds such weight in the French culture. Come the start of September, it’s time to pack away the togs, get ready for school or work and look forward to a new year.

Whether that evokes excitement or apprehension probably rests on the quality of les vacances…*

*start of the school year | *go camping | *the aim | *the everyday | *to take one’s mind off something | *the holidays

French animal noises

Savez-vous que*….

Animal noises around the world are not the same? This is just the cutest little video which will have you rethinking the validity of our ‘oink oinks’ and ‘cock-a-doodle-dos’.

See if you’re able to match up the French noises for the various animals below. The first person to contact us with a perfect score will win a Petit Guide de Pronunciation*. Bon courage*!

Cock-a-doodle-do • quack quack • oink oink • coo coo • ribbit ribbit • cheep cheep

PS If you’re having difficulty even working out the English, the video is where it’s at!

Lingua Franca Petit Guide de Prononciation

*Did you know that | *Little Pronunciation Guide | *Good luck!

Presque amis*

You may have heard of faux amis* in French. These are words that look so similar to English words that they lull you into a false sense of security, having you believe you understand them without even opening your dictionary app. In the past, we’ve told you about blessé (not blessed but hurt), le bras (not a bra but the arm) and les préservatifs (not preservatives but condoms).

But there’s another group of words that may cause you even more trouble because they’re just a bit off. It’s difficult to explain and probably easier to just experience for yourself, so here is a little list for you right below.

*Almost friends

Tirer la Tronche

Je tire la tronche.

Recently, while (re)watching Episode 1 of The Parisian Agency, I was reminded of a great little phrase I’d heard the first time around. Tirer la tronche means to be unhappy, to pout or to brood. If you’ve seen the series, Valentin says it to his mère* just after he gets off the phone with Lisa, the lingerie designer, having just broken the news that someone else has put an offer in on the property she’d had her eye on.

“Elle tire la tronche*,” he says.

Even without understanding exactly what he says, you can tell from their short conversation and Valentin’s body language that his client is not happy. This is yet another benefit of watching series in French - you’ll pick up so much from the many visual and auditory clues on offer. Tirer la tronche is just one of the new expressions I learned from this series and there are dozens more to be had. Croisons les doigts* for a second series!

*mother | *She’s pouting | *Let’s cross our fingers

Dénouement

This word is the possibly the embodiment of my love of the French language.

We use the word ‘denouement’ (without the acute accent) in English to describe the final resolution of a plot in a film or novel. The very best books and films have denouements that leave us gasping, surprised by a turn of events we fail to see coming.

To get to the beating heart of this word, we need to first remove both the prefix (dé-) and the suffix (-ment), which leaves us with noue. Nouer is the French verb ‘to knot’ which comes from the Latin verb nōdāre (also ‘to knot’). Incidentally, a very closely-related Latin verb is nectere which means ‘to tie’ or ‘to bind’. For those of you who have done the passé composé, the past participle of this verb is nexus, which we use in English and which is also where we gets words like ‘connection’ and ‘annex’. But I digress…

Back to noeur (to knot) and the prefix and suffix I dispensed with earlier. Dé- is the equivalent of ‘un’ in English. That is, is gives us the opposite sense of the word. Think of ‘stable’ and ‘unstable’, for example. It works the same in French. A verb you very likely know, faire (to do or to make) has its opposite in the verb défaire which means ‘to undo’.

[ Side note: the French often talk about hair being défaits: think of that tousled, disheveled look typical of Brigitte Bardot in her heyday. ]

UN NŒUD PAPILLON

LES CONNECTIONS

LES CHEVEUX DÉFAITS

Many of you will have seen the suffix -ment in your travels. Words like lentement, vraiment and exactement come to mind. They’re all adverbs as you may know (‘slowly’, ‘truly’ and ‘exactly’) so the -ment ending represents the equivalent of the English suffix ‘-ly’.

When it’s used to form nouns from verbs, though, it indicates a resulting action or state. For example, the verb bâtir is to build, and a bâtiment is the resulting action or state of the act of building.

Now we know that dénouer is ‘to unknot’, if you think about the final sequence of a film or books, it is like the author is unknotting the conflict they’ve created. And that’s where we get dénouement from. C’est dingue, non*?

So there we are, a full breakdown of a word you’ve possibly never heard before. If you’ve got a passion for words and their origins, I hope it was enough to titiller la curiosité*.

By the way, here are another couple of things I stumbled across when looking into dénouement.

You may already know that a nœud papillon (or nœud pap’ for short) is a bow tie, since it is a knot that resembles a butterfly (papillon).

But did you know that un nœud is also a slang term for a penis? And that tête de nœud is what you call someone you think is a bit of a d***head? Vulgar, oui,* but drôle*, tout à fait*.

Lastly, neuneu (variously spelled neu-neu, nœud-nœud) refers to someone who is a bit simple, sappy or just a bit of an idiot and apparently comes from tête de nœud as discussed above.

LE DÉNOUEMENT

*It’s crazy, isn’t it? | *to pique your curiosity | *yes | *funny | *absolutely