Frenchly article: Chocolatiers
A fan of une gâterie sucrée* with your morning café*? Then might we suggest you tantalise your tastebuds with this Frenchly article on Paris’s best chocolatiers. Miam!*
A sweet treat | coffee | Yum!
A fan of une gâterie sucrée* with your morning café*? Then might we suggest you tantalise your tastebuds with this Frenchly article on Paris’s best chocolatiers. Miam!*
A sweet treat | coffee | Yum!
If you’re searching for the perfect cadeau de Noël* for the history-loving Francophile in your life, we have just le truc*. France: An Adventure History is British writer Graham Robb’s lively and vivid exploration of the key moments, faces and themes of l’histoire française*.
Spanning events from the first century BC to today, it’s ‘A quirky, amused, erudite homage to France... ambitious and original' – according to the Times.
To read more glowing reviews or place your order, suivez le lien*.
Christmas gift | the thing | French history | follow the link
To say Simone Veil was une femme incroyable* is an understatement énorme*. Born in 1927, the Holocaust survivor and former avocate* was the first female President of the European Parliament – and a tireless campaigner for les droits de la femme*.
Most notamment*, as Health Minister she presented and successfully argued the passing of the Veil Act – the 1975 law legalising abortion in France.
Learn more about the revered political figure in this short TV5MONDE video. C’est inspirant!*
an incredible woman | huge | lawyer | women’s rights | most notably | It’s inspiring!
Looking to escape les touristes à Paris* in favour of a more exotic French-speaking locale? Un voyage* to the unique island paradise of La Réunion might tick all the right boîtes*.
Located in the Indian Ocean east of Madagascar, Réunion is a UNESCO-listed island famous for its active volcans*, incredible biodiversity, and fragrant, colourful cuisine.
It's a haven for adventure seekers – mais faites attention!* This très belle* destination has the dubious honour of being home to the most requin* attacks of any island.
Pictures: hellolaroux.com
the tourists in Paris | A trip | boxes | volcanoes | but be careful | very beautiful | shark
Last month we spoke about stealing taking inspiration from your fellow French learners as a way of maintaining your motivation and ensuring your progrès*.
One of the privileges of being a tutor is being able to observe the different ways our students approach their French learning. We have ringside seats to their methods and this is particularly evident when we teach people one-on-one.
It was during a recent private lesson with a very long-term client (Janelle) that our talk turned to that all-too-common feeling of overwhelm. Almost all of us experience it at the very début* and that’s to be expected, given the sheer volume of new concepts you’re being exposed to. However, even after you’ve gotten over the shock of learning (literally) a new language, it still crops up and seemingly comes from nowhere. It’s la peur*, or worse, la certitude* even, that you’re never, ever going to be able to get a handle on this language that you love so much.
It still happens to me from time to time, most recently yesterday, in fact, when I was in the online forum of my favourite dictionary (who says I’m not fun?). I was reading an exchange between two senior members and I had no clue what they were talking about. More distressing was the way they were volleying ideas back and forth to one another, as though anyone with half a cerveau* would not only have been able to follow along, but likely to add son grain de sel* at any second. It makes me feel like I’m being left out of a club I really, really want to belong to.
I’ve observed this in myself and others for many years now and have come to the conclusion that this feeling of overwhelm crops up in the cruelest of ways. It is often precipitated by a mini-breakthrough, which is when you should be feeling really great about your French. When a concept you’ve been grappling with finally becomes a little clearer, you’d expect a moment of satisfaction, but more often than not what follows is a sense of helplessness. It’s at this point we often hear our students exclaim in frustration: “When am I ever going to understand this language?”
It’s like you’re on descent in a plane, travelling to a new destination and the clouds part just enough for you to get your first glimpse of the beauty of the ground below. It can be thrilling. Then the pilot descends some more and you’re through the clouds and all of a sudden the vastness of the terrain is laid out before you. It can feel overwhelming and the idea of conquering it impossible. Your conscious competence is cruelly ripped from your grasp as your eyes open to all the other things you’ve not yet mastered, where seconds before you didn’t even know they existed. Moins on en sait, mieux on se porte*, for a time, at least.
Enter Janelle and her idea of the concentric circles of learning.
Most people I speak to consider language acquisition to be linear, much like a running race. You start at one end, and the idea is to get to the finish line in as quick a time as possible without tripping, let alone breaking a leg. We’ve talked before about the freedom to be found in dispensing with the very idea of there even being a finishing line, but Janelle’s idea is different once again. And as she explained it to me, I could sense how liberating it could be.
Janelle visualises her learning as a series of circles, starting very small in the middle, and increasing in diameter the further out she goes. For her, the smallest circle in the middle represents her knowledge at the very start of her French adventure.
At the time, she’d probably learned some greetings, the numbers 0-100, some basic vocabulary and perhaps the alphabet. Everything was new to her and likely felt both uncomfortable and exciting, but a few lessons later, those concepts started to settle. She was then able to look beyond her first little circle, and at least countenance the idea of adding some new words to her vocabulary or perhaps learning a new verb or two.
Over the years, the cycle has repeated itself over and over, and Janelle’s circles have grown larger and larger. Of course the best laid schemes o' mice an' men meant that she couldn’t avoid concepts from the outer circles occasionally infiltrating her current sphere.
Instead of feeling overwhelmed, though, she could simply tell herself that it had come from an outer circle for which she was not yet ready, and could continue on with her learning. It is not that she completely ignored the concept, it was that she knew to where park it in order to be able to deal with it when her brain was ready for more.
I love Janelle’s idea as it feels more expansive and organic that the traditional route of chasing down the language until you ‘catch’ it. I can almost see the circles expanding and contracting, like a living breathing organism, with each out breath leaving the whole a little larger than before.
I also really like the thought of accepting the size of your circle and focusing your energies there, where they belong. At least for the time being. As mentioned, while you’re busy working on that circle, interlopers from the outer range will come visiting, but there is real relief in simply acknowledging them and then politely asking them to stand aside for a bit, while you get on with the business at hand.
Merci, Janelle, d’avoir partagé ton expérience avec moi. Je crois que ton idée aidera beaucoup de personnes*.
progress | start | fear | certainty | brain | his/her two cents’ worth | Ignorance is bliss | Thank you, Janelle, for having shared your experience with me. I think your idea will help a lot of people.
If you knew Lingua Franca in the days when we used to do our lessons in cafés and bookstores around Brisbane, il y a de fortes chances* that you knew une jeune femme française* called Deborah.
I met Deborah in her role as nounou* to the child of one of our clients, Sue-Ellen, whom I was tutoring. Deborah had not long arrived in Australia, elle avait 21 ans* and she was as brown as a berry, having made the most of the sun she’d missed out on while living in Ireland.
A few months later, and preparing for a new year, I realised I needed a tutor to help me. I ran the idea past Sue-Ellen and she told me I’d be mad if I didn’t approach her as apart from being lovely, reliable and fun, she was just so capable*. So I did, and Deborah said oui* and I’ll never stop thanking Sue-Ellen for encouraging me to ask her.
So capable was Deborah, in fact, that shortly after she’d started I took myself off to India for my 40th birthday, promising to call every day. Dutifully, I did call that very first day, somehow getting the very sketchy wifi to connect Pondicherry to Brisbane. I needn’t have bothered. Deborah clearly had everything so sous contrôle* that, in fact, I didn’t bother to call again, landing back in Brisbane ten days later to a better business than the one I’d left!
Flash forward a few months, and Deborah was an integral part of the Lingua Franca team. In fact, along with me, she was the team, and it remained that way for a very long time. Until it came time for her to leave…
there’s a strong chance | a young French woman | nanny | capable | yes | sous contrôle.
Coucou! * I left Australia almost 3 years ago, déjà*.
After 10 years spent overseas, it felt like the right time to head back to France for a while. My husband, Geoff, and I had lived together in Ireland (il est irlandais*) and in Australia, but not in France yet. We also wanted our then 3-year old son, James, to spend time with family and be exposed to the French culture and language. France felt like a safe place for us to slow down, recharge, and get ready for our next adventure ensemble*.
Let’s say our timing was intéressant*. We moved in December 2019, just in time for a great Noël* spent with family. We settled into our new place in January 2020, started planning a year full of travel and long overdue catch-ups and even adopted a puppy, Rio. Then came March 2020, and I believe the rest is history.
There was something very special about taking James to places I used to visit myself as a child. A trip down memory lane was exactly what I was looking for while over there. I also loved seeing Geoff push himself out of his comfort zone, learning French on the spot and adapting to our new lifestyle. He unsurprisingly became quite the star in our voisinage*.
We loved the proximity France offered to other European countries and will give a special mention to the food, the fromage*, and the vin*. As cliché as it sounds, it is la vérité*.
The most important aspect of all, though, was to spend quality time with our families, both in France and in Ireland. James is lucky to still have 4 grandparents, 3 great-grandparents and 20 cousins in between the two countries so we wanted him to develop real-life relationships with them all and create plenty of memories of his own.
I loved being able to pop over to see my parents without having to book flights months in advance, hang out with my brothers and sisters-in-law, play with my nieces and nephews and share stories with my grandparents. Enjoying the little things has been huge for us.
We moved to the medieval town of Lescar, near Pau, in the South West of France. Pau is the birthplace of King Henry IV, a regular stage town of the Tour de France, and is as close to the Atlantic Ocean as it is to the Pyrenees mountains. Gagnant-gagnant*.
Our plans were pushed back by a couple of years but we were very chanceux* to still get the opportunity to do some of the travelling that had been on the bucket list for a while.
When borders re-opened, we were close enough to Spain to be able to enjoy its beauty by doing day trips. Driving for less than an hour to find ourselves immersed into a completely different environment was truly mind-blowing.
We made sure to go back to Ireland as often as possible and also snuck in a couple of trips to visit friends in Germany. We bought and renovated an old camping-car* and spent a summer driving around South East of France : an unforgettable experience. We played tourists in Paris, explored Brittany and Normandy and discovered Annecy (in the Alps) all over again. We spent a few incredible days in Rome as well as a truly magique* week around the Greek islands. We’re still pinching ourselves and feel so grateful for these life experiences.
I continued working remotely for Lingua Franca which has been amazing. Lingua Franca will forever hold a very special place dans mon cœur.* I also developed my own graphic design activity, helping businesses create their brand identity. After many years spent tutoring at LF, teaching was back on the cards for me as I became a training consultant in graphic design for a French training centre. Work has been varié, enrichissant et flexible.*
Our friends would be the very first answer, but I also missed the laidback lifestyle and the easy-going mentality. France counts many wonderful traits, but not these ones. I won’t hide the sunshine was also missed on those dark winter days. Although we had an amazing time in Europe, it inexplicably felt like a very long holiday and never quite like home. Australia is home, at least for now.
Merci*, it’s great to be back. Very soon, j’espère*!
Hey! | already | he’s Irish | interesting | Christmas | neighbourhood | cheese | wine | the truth | Win-win | lucky | camper van | magical | in my heart | divers, enriching and flexible | Thank you | I hope!
If you've ever done a group lesson here at Lingua Franca, you've probably come into contact with La Petite Histoire*. A tale with the very humblest of beginnings, it winds up becoming a rollicking schlockbuster as you move up the levels and your French improves enough to handle the outrageous (some would say impossible) turns of events of the six young friends.
La Petite Histoire is currently only available to our students, however La Préquelle is for everyone’s enjoyment. Below, another instalment of this new series, Chapter 3 of the Intermediate 2 level.
*The Little Story | *The Prequel
“Tu as passé une bonne journée, chérie?” a demandé Jean-Louis. “Comment va Hervé?”
J’étais dans la cuisine, en préparant le dîner pour la famille.
“Il va très bien, merci, oui. On est allé au Jardin des Tuileries pour se promener avec les enfants. C’était très chouette. Anouk a adoré voir ‘le grand château’ et les petits bateaux sur le bassin, bien sûr. Elle a décidé qu’elle veut un bateau pour Noël.”
Jean-Louis a rigolé et m’a donné un bisou sur la joue. “C’est une petite fille qui sait ce qu’elle veut non ? Comme sa mère,” il a taquiné.
J’ai souri. Jean-Louis était de bonne humeur ce soir, et je voulais profiter du moment. C’était rare de nos jours, malheureusement.
“Bon, à table! Le dîner est prêt !” j’ai crié. “Anouk, viens s’il te plaît. On va manger.”“Oui, maman, j’arrive,” elle a répondu.
Installés à la table, j’ai commencé à servir la blanquette de veau. ”Miam, miam, maman ! J’adore ça.” Anouk a dit.
Jean-Louis regardait Anouk avec affection. “Tu as passé une bonne journée avec ton Tonton Hervé, ma petite ?”
“Oui Papa, j’ai vu les bateaux. Tonton a dit que Père Noël a de petits bateaux dans son stock.”“Ah bon ? Tu vas devoir écrire ta liste bientôt, ma petite puce,” a répondu Jean-Louis avec un grand sourire. “Hervé et Amina ont des plans pour les vacances, Leïla ?” a demandé Jean-Louis, en versant du vin pour moi.
“Oui, en fait, ils pensent aller en Angleterre pour voir Robert et Beth, les parents de Michael. Tu te rappelles quand Amina a fait un échange en Angleterre ?”
“Ah oui, je me rappelle, c’est vrai. Ils habitent à Londres, non ?”
“À Bath,” j’ai corrigé.
“Maman, comment Père Noël va venir à Bath avec mes bateaux ?”
“Pardon ?” j’ai dit, soudainement nerveuse.
“De quoi tu parles, Anouk ?” a demandé Jean-Louis. Il ne souriait plus.
“Maman a dit qu’on va en Angleterre pour voir La Reine,” elle a dit.
“Tu as dit ça, Leïla?” a demandé Jean-Louis.
“Anouk, arrête! Je n’ai pas du tout dit ça !” j’ai dit, gênée. “En fait, quand Anouk a vu Le Louvre, elle m’a demandé s’il y avait des princesses qui y habitaient. Alors quand Hervé racontait ses plans pour leur voyage, j’ai dit à Anouk qu’il n’y a plus de princesses en France mais qu’en Angleterre il y a une reine. C’est tout !”
“Mais Maman, on peut partir avec Tonton et Tati dans l’avion pour voir La Reine ?” Anouk a demandé, avec de grands yeux.
“Malheureusement…”, j’ai commencé mais Jean-Louis a interrompu.
“Je crois que c’est une bonne idée, ma puce ! Aller voir La Reine, quelle aventure !”
Et là, c’était moi qui avait de grands yeux.
“Did you have a good day, darling?” asked Jean-Louis. “How’s Hervé going?”
I was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the family.
“He’s going really well, thank you. We went to the Tuileries Gardens to have a walk with the children. It was really great. Anouk adored seeing ‘the big castle’ and the little boats on the pond, of course. She has decided that she wants a boat for Christmas.”
Jean-Louis laughed and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “She’s a little girl who knows what she wants, isn’t she? Like her mother,” he teased.
I smiled. Jean-Louis was in a good mood this evening, and I wanted to make the most of the moment. It was rare these days, unfortunately.
“Right, everyone at the table. Dinner is ready!” I cried. “Anouk, come please. We’re going to eat.”
“Yes, Mum, I’m coming,” she responded.
Settled in at the table, I started to serve the blanquette de veau.
“Yum, yum, Mum! I love this,” Anouk said.
Jean-Louis looked at Anouk with affection. “Did you have a good day with your Uncle Hervé, little one?”
“Yes, Dad, I saw the boats. Uncle said that Father Christmas has boats in his stock.”
“Oh really? You’re going to have to write your list soon, my little flea,” responded Jean-Louis with a big smile. “Do Hervé and Amina have plans for the holidays, Leïla?” asked Jean-Louis, while pouring me some wine.
“Yes, in fact, they’re thinking of going to England to see Robert and Beth, Michael’s parents. Do you remember when Amina did an exchange in England?”
“Oh yes, I remember, that’s right. They live in London, don’t they?”
“In Bath,” I corrected.
“Mum, how is Father Christmas going to come to Bath with my boats?”
“Pardon?” I said, suddenly nervous.
“What are you talking about, Anouk?” asked Jean-Louis. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Mum said that we’re going to England to see The Queen,” she said.
“Did you say that, Leïla?” asked Jean-Louis.
“Anouk, stop! I didn’t say that at all!” I said, embarrassed. “In fact, when Anouk saw The Louvre, she asked me if there were any princesses who lived there. So when Hervé was talking about his plans for their trip, I said to Anouk that there were no more princesses in France but that in England there was a queen. That’s all!”
“But Mum, can we go with Uncle and Aunty in the plane to see The Queen?” Anouk asked, with wide eyes.
”Unfortunately…” I started, but Jean-Louis interrupted.
”I think that that’s a good idea, my little flea! Going to see The Queen, what an adventure!”
And then, it was me who had wide eyes.
This bonus extract from (the original) La Petite Histoire* contains 15 grammatical errors. We’re sure you won’t be surprised to know that many of them involve les petits mots*.
See how many you can find. Ne stressez pas trop*, we’ve included the answers with explanations below.
Of course the more French you’ve done, the more likely you’ll be to find all 15, so we’ve adjusted the target depending on your level. Bon courage*!
The Little Story | little words | Don’t stress too much | Good luck!
Salut tout le monde! Je suis Stephanie et je suis 16 ans. Je suis australien et je suis une étudiante . J’habite au Berry. J’ai les cheveux rouges, les yeux verts et je suis grande. Je joue le basket et je fais du shopping.
Je suis deux sœurs et je suis extravertie, sexy et intelligente. Un jour, je vais aller en États-Unis sur les vacances. J’ai une tante qui travail à Hollywood. Je vais rester chez lui. Elle représente beaucoup des grandes stars et elle penses que j’ai un talent. Je suis hâte.
Hi everyone! I am Stephanie and I’m 16 years old. I’m Australian and I am a student. I live in Berry. I have red hair, green eyes and I am tall. I play basketball and I shop. I have two sisters and I am extraverted, sexy and intelligent. One day, I am going to go to the United States on holidays. I have an aunt who works in Hollywood. I am going to stay at her house. She represents lots of big stars and she thinks I have some talent. I can’t wait.
1. j’ai 16 ans - we use the verb avoir for our age.
2. australienne - Stephanie is a woman.
3. je suis étudiante - we don’t use un or une when we speak about our professions.
4. à Berry - à is used for suburbs, towns and cities.
5. les cheveux roux - roux is used for hair particularly, rather than rouge, which is used for everything else.
6. je joue au basket - when referring to a sport, jouer is followed by the preposition à. Le basket (basketball) is masculine so à + le = au.
7. J’ai deux sœurs - Je suis means I am, not I have.
8. aux États-Unis. For plural countries, we use the preposition aux to mean ‘to the’. For feminine countries (those that end with an ‘e’) we use en and for masculine countries (those that don’t), we use au.
9. en vacances - it’s just a set phrase, like en retard or en ville.
10. une tante qui travaille - travail is the noun (work) whereas travailler is the verb.
11. chez elle - chez lui means at his house. These are called disjunctive pronouns and include moi and toi, among others.
12. de grandes stars - when a plural adjective comes before the noun it’s describing, des becomes de. These are called BAGS adjectives (adjectives of Beauty, Age, Goodness and Size).
13. elle pense - penser is a regular -er verb and therefore ‘e’ is added to the stem for il/elle/on
14. du talent - the word ‘some’ in French is a combination of de + le, la, l’ or les. Talent is masculine so it’s le, and when de mixes with le it becomes du.
15. J’ai hâte - to say that you can’t wait in French, the expression we use is avoir hâte (think of ‘to have haste’, if that helps).
Have you long harboured a desire be considered an honorary Parisienne*? Me too, until the day I was strolling down the street in Paris, imagining myself exuding an impossibly French insouciance*, when someone leaned out of a car window and yelled: “Hé ! Kangourou !*”.
So while not all of us have what it takes to blend seamlessly into our adopted surroundings, it never hurts to try. Some even succeed, as this article by Australian Katrina Lawrence points out, herself deserving of the title, à mon avis*.
Merci pour l’inspiration, Katrina. J’adore votre site*.
Parisian woman | lack of concern/insouciance | Hey! Kangaroo! | in my opinion | Thank you for the inspiration, Katrina. I love your site.
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!
We met Rhylee back at our old nid* in Masters St, Newstead. She used to attend lessons with her aunty which we all thought was such a great bonding thing to do (we’d all love une tante* like that, I think).
After a few terms, Rhylee and her aunty drifted off, as often happens. The road to learning a language is rarely a straight one.
Then, to our great delight, just a couple of months ago, we received an email from Rhylee to let us know she was de retour*. And this time, she was bringing someone with her…
So great to have you at the nest, vous deux*!
Rhylee & Ryan: We are moving to Montreal (Canada) in the near future and want to be involved as culturally as possible. Learning a language also seemed like a fun way to spend our evenings
Rhylee: We have completed four lessons with Absolute Beginner 1 and have completed some further private lessons with Julie. Our private lessons were a great introduction to learn new phrases tailored to our travels and answered our questions on how we can immerse ourselves in the day-to-day culture of living in a French city. This was Ryan's first introduction to French, however I had attended Lingua Franca way back in 2016. Lingua Franca was fantastic then and I knew it would be the best way to pick it back up again (it is!).
Rhylee: French sounds very pretty and melodic and I especially like being able to read it. I have always adored French culture - it oozes style, art and sophistication and shamelessly I have always wanted to involved in that!
Ryan: I like learning something new and figuring out how it contrasts with the English language.
Rhylee: I love using different mouth muscles that I never have before but speaking is certainly difficult. Hopefully a few more lessons and I can build up that confidence.
Ryan: I find learning the indefinite/definite articles difficult and the gender identity of inanimate objects still gets me.
Rhylee: Enchanté - the reminder in my head is that it is always "enchanting" to meet someone new and it is also a delight to say.
Ryan: je ne comprends pas - this is a phrase not only fun to say but a reliable one and one I am sure I will refer back to many times in my French learning journey.
Rhylee: I love the brightness and positivity of Lingua Franca and felt it was the best way to reach my French speaking dreams. My main goal is to be able to order dinner and drinks in a restaurant and I am sure I will be there in no time!
nest | an aunt | back | you two
If you've ever done a group lesson here at Lingua Franca, you've probably come into contact with La Petite Histoire*. A tale with the very humblest of beginnings, it winds up becoming a rollicking schlockbuster as you move up the levels and your French improves enough to handle the outrageous (some would say impossible) turns of events of the six young friends.
La Petite Histoire is currently only available to our students, however La Préquelle is for everyone’s enjoyment. Below, another instalment of this new series, Chapter 2 of the Intermediate 2 level.
*The Little Story | *The Prequel
“Tu m’écoutes, Léïla ?”
“Pardon ? Qu’est-ce que tu as dit ?” j’ai répondu à mon frère, Hervé, qui me regardait attentivement.
“Ça va ? Qu’est ce qu’il y a, Léïla ? Tu as l’air…je ne sais pas…un peu triste ? Tout va bien ?”
“Oh je suis désolée, Hervé. Je pensais à quelque chose.”
Il faisait un peu froid mais beau aujourd’hui donc mon frère et moi avons décidé de se retrouver sur le Pont du Carrousel près du Louvre pour faire une promenade avec mes enfants. Les enfants d’Hervé étaient à la maison avec sa femme, Amina. Les jumelles étaient en poussette et Anouk marchait toute seule, très lentement. Elle avait trois ans et elle adorait son oncle.
“Tonton, tonton, regarde !” elle a dit. “Il y a un château !”
“Tu as raison, mon lapin, dans le passé c’était un château, mais maintenant c’est un musée.”
“Un grand musée, “ elle a ajouté. “Avec beaucoup de dessins.”“Elle a ton intelligence, c’est sûr,” Hervé a dit, et il a pris mon bras. “Bon, qu’est-ce qu’il y a, ma petite sœur ? Dis-moi tout.”
“Oh, ce n’est rien. Vraiment, rien de grave. Je suis juste un peu fatiguée, c’est tout.”
“Tu es sûre ? C’est les enfants ? Mais ce sont des anges !” il m’a taquiné. Hervé connaissait très bien ses nièces et il comprenait que même si elles étaient adorables, elles étaient aussi parfois difficiles. Particulièrement les jumelles, qui ne dormaient pas beaucoup.
“Oui, les enfants, et mes études, et…” Je n’ai pas fini ma phrase.
“Et ? Et quoi ? C’est Jean-Louis ? Vous avez des problèmes ?” Hervé avait l’air concerné. Je n’aimais pas quand mon frère me regardait comme ça.
“Non, ça va, honnêtement. Je suis simplement fatiguée et un peu stressée. Ce n’est pas grave. Je te promets. Bon, pardon, qu’est-ce que tu disais à l’instant ?”“Je disais qu’Amina et moi allons partir pour Londres dans deux semaines pour aller voir nos amis, Robert et Beth. Tu te rappelles de Robert et Beth ? Ils habitent à Bath.”
“Ah oui, bien sûr! Amina a fait un échange au lycée et elle est restée avec Robert et Beth et leurs fils. Comment il s’appelle déjà ?”
“Michael. Oui, on y va pour quelques jours. Les enfants vont rester avec Maman. Tu dois venir avec nous ! J’ai l’impression que tu as besoin de changer les idées un peu, non ? Et tu peux pratiquer ton anglais.”
“Non, je veux dire, oui, mais non, je ne vais pas venir avec vous deux ! Vous devez profiter de partir en vacances sans les enfants. C’est comme une deuxième lune de miel.”
Hervé a commencé à dire quelque chose quand on a entendu une petite voix derriere nous dire: “Les crêpes au miel, oui, s’il te plaît, Maman ! J’adore !”Hervé et moi s’est regardé et on a commencé à rigoler.
“Are you listening to me, Léïla ?”
“Sorry? What did you say?” I replied to my brother, who was looking at me attentively.
“Are you okay? What’s up, Léïla? You seem…I don’t know…a bit sad? Is everything okay?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Hervé. I was thinking about something.”
It was a bit cold but fine today so my brother and I decided to meet each other on the Pont du Carrousel near the Louvre to go for a walk with my children. Hervé’s children were at home with his wife, Amina. The twins were in the pusher and Anouk was walking all by herself, very slowly. She was three years old and she adored her uncle.
“Uncle, uncle, look!” she said. “There’s a big castle over there!”
“You’re right, my little rabbit, in the past it was a castle, but now it’s a museum.”
“A big museum,” she added. “With lots of drawings.”
“She has your intelligence, that’s for sure,” Hervé said, and he took my arm. “Right, what’s wrong, little sis? Tell me everything.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Really, nothing serious. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.”
“Are you sure? It is the kids? But they’re angels!” he teased me. Hervé knew his nieces very well and he understood that even if they were adorable, they were also difficult at times. Particularly the twins, who didn’t sleep a lot.
“Yes, the kids, and my studies, and…” I didn’t finish my sentence.
“And? And what? Is it Jean-Louis? Are you having problems?” Hervé seemed concerned. I didn’t like it when my brother looked at me like that.
“No, it’s fine, honestly. I am simply tired and a bit stressed. It’s not serious. I promise. Right, sorry, what were you saying just now?”
“I was saying that Amina and I are going to leave for London in two weeks to go and see our friends, Robert and Beth. Do you remember Robert and Beth? They live in Bath.”
“Oh yes, of course! Amina did an exchange at high school and she stayed with Robert and Beth and their son. What is his name again?”
“Michael. Yes, we’re going for a few days. The kids are going to stay with Mum. You have to come with us! I get the feeling you need a bit of a change of scenery, don’t you? And you can practise your English.”
“No, I mean, yes, but no, I am not going to come with you two! You have to make the most of going on holidays with the kids. It’s like a second honeymoon!”
Hervé started to to say something when we heard a little voice behind us say”
“Crêpes with honey, yes please, Mum! I love them!”
Hervé and I looked at each other and started to laugh.
A common frustration for our students here at Lingua Franca (and doubtless for language students across the globe), is their tendency to forget what they’ve learned from one week to the next or in some (usually comedic) instances, from one moment to the next.
Before you think we’re being critical of our learners, we, the staff, have experienced the exact same frustrations in the past, and continue to do so. Learning a language is an ongoing challenge, no matter your level, and I’m not sure we get any better at remembering new concepts right off the bat as we progress. Likely, we just get better at recognising the phenomenon as inherent in learning (or improving) a skill and we move on.
Before people get to that acceptance, though, they often lament not learning a second language as a child, when their brains were ‘like little sponges’.
From my experience, this is both true and untrue, and according to the reading I’ve done, the only real conclusion I’ve come to is simply that the debate rages on.
What seems to be accurate is that children are able to learn unconsciously, whereas for adults it takes a bit more effort. However, hour for hour, some say that adults are actually more successful at learning a language (and by that, we’re looking at all four competencies, not just speaking and listening) as they have a whole system of prior knowledge on which to hang the new concepts.
If you’re interested in this subject, I found this article particularly motivating.
However, we’re straying from the point a little, as if you’re still reading and comprehending this article, you most likely don’t need to ask your parents’ permission for a sleepover anymore. That ship has sailed.
What is to be gained from comparing yourself to a child, or anyone else for that matter?
What can be very useful, instead, is to notice those people around you who do something particularly well. For example, do you have someone in your class who has really mastered les numéros*, while you’re still trying to work out what four times twenty plus ten plus seven could possibly mean? If so, ask them how they did it. I’m sure they’ll be flattered and keen to share their knowledge.
Don’t forget, too, that it’s entirely possible someone else in your class is silently admiring your ability to 'just give it a go’, whereas they’re petrified of making a mistake, or the fact that you have a way or rephrasing an idea the teacher has presented in a way that makes it easier for the rest of the class to understand. We all have our skills and they come in myriad forms. This is one of the joys for us as teachers. We’re constantly astounded by the diversity of experience of our students.
When you ask your classmate for their secret, I can almost guarantee they’ll tell you it didn’t ‘just happen’ for them. I know people who have practised their numbers by reading number plates to themselves when stuck in traffic. I know someone else who took out a stack of index cards and cut them in half so they fit in the palm of her hand. She wrote the numeral on one side and the French word for it on the other, popped them in a little Tupperware container and slid that into her handbag. Then, whenever she found herself with five minutes to spare, she’d take out a little handful (pre-shuffled bien sûr*) to test herself. She did this most days for a few months and guess what? She’s still great at numbers many years later. She learned the concept, did a bit of leg work in writing out the cards and then kept the knowledge there by practising a little but often. Job done!
That’s the other advantage we have as adults in learning a language. Most of us (even those who railed against such notions when younger) now know from hard-earned experience that things like practice, dedication and commitment do indeed pay off. You don’t have to be crazy about it. We all seem to lead rather hectic lives and there are limits to how much time we can devote to our pursuits, but being inspired to forge on by those around us is surely a better way to go than wishing to be someone we’re not?
Louis XIV put it well when he said:
”Il est sans comparaison plus facile de faire ce qu'on est, que d'imiter ce qu'on n'est pas*”.
I mean, easy for him to say. His parents took nearly two decades to give birth to a son, so they called him Louis-Dieudonné, meaning "Gift of God" and allegedly he believed it.
We’re not all made to feel quite so special from birth, but still, the message remains. Stop comparing, focus on what you’re good at, and then piquez* ideas from others. So much easier.
*the numbers | *of course | *It is without doubt easier to be who we are, rather than imitate what we’re not | *pinch
A return to travel means a return to le shopping* for many, so take note of our handy guide to French sizes to make sure your achats* don’t get lost in translation.
*shopping | *purchases
The death of Jean-Luc Godard last month set off une vague d’hommages* for the revolutionary French film maker, often referred to as the godfather of New Wave cinema.
Godard, along with a clutch of other directors, turned cinema on its head in the 60s. A famous quote by Godard encapsulates their approach:
"Toute histoire doit avoir un début, un milieu et une fin mais pas forcément dans cet ordre-là."
“Every story must have a beginning, a middle and an end, though not necessarily in that order.”
So what is La Nouvelle Vague* anyway? Read on…
La Nouvelle Vague is a cinematic movement of the late 1950s and early 1960s which sought to casser les règles* of traditional film-making.
Frustrated with the constraints of la Tradition de qualité* style, which they felt was designed to ‘impress rather than express’, a small group including Godard, François Truffaut, Agnès Varda, Éric Rohmer, Jacques Demy and Claude Chabrol set about revolutionising the art form.
These Parisian writers and critics, possibly the original film geeks, put their money where their mouths were by directing their own films in the style they championed.
La Nouvelle Vague attempted to allow directors to express their ideas and emotions as freely as other artists, such as a painters or writers. Rather than the sanitised version of reality presented by traditional studio films, New Wave films showed the grit and realism of the streets of Paris and allowed their directors to examine social and political issues in ground-breaking ways.
*a wave of tributes | *New Wave | *break the rules | *Tradition of quality
La Nouvelle Vague was the birthplace of modern day independent cinema, and many of today’s directors such as Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola, Quentin Tarantino and Wes Anderson owe much to its style. As Scorsese said “The French New Wave has influenced all filmmakers who have worked since, whether they saw the films or not. It submerged cinema like a tidal wave”.
New Wave classics include:
Les Quatre Cent Coups (François Truffaut)
Lola (Jacques Démy)
À Bout de Souffle (Jean-Luc Godard)
Cléo de 5 à 7 (Agnès Varda)
Le genou de Claire (Éric Rohmer)
Jules et Jim (François Truffaut)
Le Mépris (Jean-Luc Godard)
Definitely worth checking out.
With the help of its cousin Le Canal de Garonne, this feat of 17th century waterway construction connects the Mediterranean to the Atlantic.
Sail through rolling countryside and canal-side vineyards à l’ombre des platanes* that line the route.
La détente totale*.
Pictures : lavaliseafleurs.com
*in the shade of the plane trees | *Total relaxation
Most of us have heard of La Révolution française*, with its tales of out-of-touch princesses, pantless radicals (les sans-culottes*) and public beheadings by way of guillotine, but how many among us know of a much more recent, and thankfully less violent, uprising?
For the soixante-huitards*, the concerns were of a similar hue to the revolutionaries of 1789: le capitalisme*, le consumerisme* and les institutions traditionnelles.*
Driven by students at the Sorbonne University in Paris, the seven-week period of civil unrest spread throughout France and included manifestations*, general strikes and the occupation of universities and factories. At the height of the troubles, the French economy ground to a halt.
A fascinating topo* below, thanks to TV 5 Monde Plus.
Click image to play video.
*The French Revolution | *without breeches (these commoners not not literally naked from the waist down - they just couldn’t afford the fancy silk knee-breeches worn by the nobility and bourgeoisie of the time, known as ‘culottes’ and had to make do with long cotton pantaloons. I’d rise up against that, too.) | *68ers, or those who took part in the demonstrations and riots | *capitalism | *consumerism | *traditional institutions | *protest marches | *rundown
If you hit your sartorial zenith in the 1980s and fancied yourself an emerging yuppy (not looking at anyone…) you may have found yourself unnaturally drawn to wearing a tiny fabric crocodile close to your cœur*.
The French leisure marque* Lacoste pre-dates this most bewildering decade and its history is as long as its present-day product line is wide.
But what really is the story with that tiny green reptile?
From the Lactose.fr website comes this explanation:
“Boston, 1923, le jeune prodige du tennis René Lacoste a 19 ans et il aime les challenges. Son capitaine d’équipe le sait. Il lui promet la belle valise en cuir de crocodile qu’il admire en vitrine s’il remporte le match difficile à venir. René Lacoste n’a pas gagné le match mais il avait la ténacité du crocodile sur le court, c’est pourquoi il a été surnommé ainsi par un journaliste américain.”
“Boston, 1923, the young tennis prodigy René Lacoste is 19 years old and loves a challenge. His team captain knows it. He promises to buy him the beautiful crocodile-leather suitcase he admires in a shop window if he wins the tough match he has coming up. René Lacoste didn’t win the match but he had the tenacity of a crocodile on the court, which is why he was so-nicknamed by an American journalist.”
Intéressé(e)*? Read more here in French (plus see some great past advertisements).
Feeling a bit paresseux(euse)* maybe? Here’s the English version.
*heart | *brand | *interested | *lazy
Who doesn’t like the sound of a baguette magique*? Here’s la recette*…
Merci à Cuisine Actuelle pour la recette*.
*magic baguette (by the way, the word ‘baguette’ in French means so many things: chopstick, drumstick, conductor’s baton and, more colloquially, legs!) | *the recipe | *Thank you to Cuisine Actuelle for the recipe
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.