Now, before anyone starts, I know that what I'm about to say is purely a reflection of the English language, not the French; that it only strikes me this way because we chose to use the words we ripped off from Germanic languages for everyday, and the words we ripped off from Romance languages for Sunday best. I know that. But it doesn't stop me enjoying the fact that the French are never just sorry, but desolated; that things don't just bother them, they derange them; that while English speakers are merely advised in fire warnings to keep calm, the French are told to guard their sang-froid; and, my favourite new one from this trip, that they are not asked in a note on a restaurant menu to order their pudding at the start of their meal, but to demand their dessert at the debut of their repast.
Monday, 18 August 2008
Adding a welcome touch of drama to asking for profiteroles.
Posted by John Finnemore at 5:29 pm
Labels: Not Mocking The French
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
5 comments:
Hmmmm ... is this directed at anyone in particular whom you think might pick you up on technicalities?
Is Freanch really that dramatic? Hm, I wish I spoke French so I could find out. I learnt German (badly) at school.
rhooo ! you bad boy, John ! you are making fun of French again !!!
My favourite toast: "Death to the French !"
Brexit is good because it restores the natural order of things.
I know this is twelve years late, but there's a reason romance languages are used for fancy English. The Normans would use English for peasants' stuff and their own French for the lordly stuff. Peasants would eat pig, nobles would eat pork, etc.
Post a Comment