Shaking paillasses

In French une paillasse /pajas/ is a straw mattress, draining board or laboratory bench and un paillasse is a clown. The former is a combination of paille (straw) plus the suffix -asse. Paille comes from the Latin palea, from the Ancient Greek πάλλω (pallo = to shake) because you have to shake the straw to extract the grain. The latter comes from the Italian pagliaccio (clown).

The word paillasse /ˈpalɪas/, meaning a straw mattress, is also used in English and was used in Scots.

Paillasse also appears in des pommes (de terre) paillasses, a potato-based dish which came up in a quiz yesterday.

Sources: Wiktionnaire, OED, Reverso

Tables, chairs, stools and cathedrals

The Russian word for table (the piece of furniture) is стол (/stol/) which sounds a bit like stool in English. In most other Slavic languages the words for table are simliar: стол (Belarusian), stol (Croatian), stůl (Czech), stolŭ (Old Church Slavonic = throne, seat), stół (Polish), сто (Serbian), stôl (Slovak) and стіл (Ukrainian). Although in Bulgarian and Macedonian стол means chair and table is маса (masa), and in Slovenian a table is miza and chair is stol.

The Russian for chair is стул (/stul/), which sounds even more like stool, and stool is табуретка (/taburʲetka/), which probably comes from the French word for stool, tabouret. The English word stool comes from the Old English stól (seat for one person), from the Proto-Germanic *stōlaz, probably from the Proto-Indo-European root *stō-/sta- (to stand). The Slavic words for table probably come from the same root.

Stool came to mean a small seat without arms or a back when the word chair was adopted from French, via the Middle English chaere/chaiere from the Old French chaëre from the Latin cathedra (seat), from the Greek καθέδρα (chair, especially the seat of a bishop, or a teacher’s or professor’s chair) from κατά (down) and ἑδ (sit). In modern French the word chaire means a pulpit or a university chair (professorship), while a normal chair that you sit on is a chaise.

The English word table comes from the the classical Latin word tabula (board, plank, writing/votive tablet, map, picture), and was influenced by the Anglo-Norman tabul/tabull (board, plank, writing table, picture). The origin of the Latin word tabula is uncertain.

Sources: OED, Reverso, Online Etymology Dictionary

Promenades, walks and rides

In French the word promenade (f) /pʀɔm.nad/ can mean a walk: une promenade à pied; a drive: une promenade en voiture, or a (bicycle / horse / sleigh) ride: une promenade à velo / à cheval / en traîneau. You can also talk about going on une promenade en mer / en bateau (a boat trip), or if you going for une promenade à pied, you might follow un sentier de promenade (a footpath) with un sac à dos de promenade (daysack) on your back.

The verb that goes with promenade is faire (to do), so you might say je vais faire une promenade à velo = I’m going for a bike ride. Alternatively the verb (se) promener can be used to mean to go for a walk, ride or drive, and if it’s your fingers or gaze that are going the wandering, the construction to use is se promener sur.

Promenade comes from promener (to walk), from the Latin promenare (to drive (animals) onward) from prō (forth) plus minare (to drive (animals) with shouts), from minari (to threaten), from minae (threats), from the Proto-Indo-European root *men-.

In English promenade originally, in the 16th century, meant “a leisurely walk (ride or drive), especially one taken in a public place so as to meet or be seen by others.” and then was used to refer specifically to a place for taking a such a walk by the sea.

Sources: Online Etymology Dictionary, OED, myEtymology.com, Wiktionary

Os

Yesterday I discovered that the French word for bone, os, is pronounced /ɔs/ in the singular, as I suspected, but /o/ in the plural [source]. Os is also used in English as a zoological and medical term for bone and is pronounced /ɒs/ (UK) or /ɑs/ (US). Final consonants of French words aren’t usually pronounced, unless followed by a word beginning with a vowel, so you just have to memorise ones like os.

Os appears in such words and expressions as:
– ossature /ɔsatyʀ/ = frame(work), skeletal/bone structure
– osselet /ɔslɛ/ = knucklebone, ossicle (small bone in the middle ear), osselet (small animal bone)
– osseux /ɔsø/ = bone, osseus, bony
– ossification = ossification
– ossifier /ɔsifje/ = to ossify (to harden, make into bone)
– ossuaire /ɔsɥɛʀ/ = ossuary (receptacle or place for the bones of the dead)

– c’est un paquet / sac d’os = he’s a bag of bones, he’s skin and bone
– mouillée / trempé jusqu’aux os = to be soaked to the skin, wet through
– donner un os à ronger à qn = to give sb something to keep them out of mischief (or) keep them quiet
– l’avoir dans l’os = to be done, to get egg all over one’s face (slang)
– il y a un os = there’s a snag / hitch
– tomber sur un os = to come across a snag

Os comes from the Latin os (bone), from the ancient Greek ὀστέον (bone), which is also the root of the prefix osteo-, and is not to be confused with ōs /ɔːs/, (mouth, face, entrance).

In Welsh os means ‘if’.

Sauve-qui-peut!

One of the things that came up in conversation last night was how to say ‘to save’ in French. As is often the case, there are a number of different translations of this word, depending on the context:

sauver = to save (person, animal, jewels, building etc), rescue, salvage
– sauver la vie â/de qcn = to save sb’s life
– sauver sa peau = to save one’s skin, neck, hide
– sauver son âme = to save one’s soul
– sauver les apparences = to keep up appearances
– sauver la face = to save face
– sauve-qui-peut = stampede / every man for himself / run for your life

There is also a reflexive version of this verb, se sauver, which means to run away, to be off. For example, Il s’est sauvé à toutes jambes (He ran away as fast as he could); Allez, je me sauve! (Right, I’m off! / I’m out of here!).

When you want to talk about saving money, time or energy the word to use économiser. For example, vous économisez un euro si vous achetez 3 pacquets (You save a euro if you buy 3 packets). If you’re talking about putting money, food or other things aside for a rainy day though, the expression to use is mettre de côté or garder. For example, il garde les vieux journaux pour les bonnes œuvres (he’s saving (up) old newspapers for charity).

The French equivalents for ‘to save a goal’ are empêcher de marquer, faire un blocage or sauver un but.

The word sauver comes from the Old French salver/sauver, from the late Latin salvāre (to save), from the Latin salvus (safe, secure, immune from punishment, intact, undamaged), from the Proto-Indo-European base *sol- (whole). The English words save, safe, salvage, salver, saviour and salvation come from the same roots.

Sources: Reverso, OED, Online Etymology Dictionary, and Collins Robert French Dictionary.

Gilets et camisoles

Last night at the French Conversation Group we were discussing various words for clothing in French. One word the seems to cover quite a few different types of clothing is gilet /ʒi.lɛ/, which on its own means a sleeveless jacket similar to a waistcoat (vest in American English), and apparently comes from the Maghrebi Arabic word jalikah (a type of jacket worn by Christian slaves in galleys) which comes from the Turkish word yelek (sleeveless jacket; wing feather) [from: Wikitionnaire, Wikitionary and turkishdictionary.net].

Gilet also appears in:
– gilet pareballes = bulletproof jacket/vest; flak jacket (AmEng)
– gilet de sauvetage = life jacket (BrEng) / life preserver / Mae West (AmEng)
– gilet de peau / gilet de corps = vest (BrEng), undershirt (AmEng)
– gilet matelassé = body warmer
– aller pleurer dans le gilet de qqn = to cry on someone’s shoulder

Gilet /ʒile/ is also used in English to mean “a bodice shaped like, or in imitation of, a man’s waistcoat” [source].

In British English the word vest usually refers to a garment, usually sleeveless, worn under one’s shirt, or undershirt in American English. While in American English a vest is a sleeveless piece of clothing with buttons down the front worn over a shirt and under a suit jacket, or waistcoat in British English. So in British English a three-piece suit consists of a jacket, waistcoat and trousers, while in American English these garments are a jacket, vest and pants. I’m sure there are regional variations in these names, as well as in the types of garments they refer to.

Another word that came up was camisole /ka.mi.zɔl/, which in French means “une sorte de vêtement du matin, court, à manches, qui se porte sur la chemise” (a type of morning clothing, short, with sleeves, that is worn on the shirt), and comes from the Provencal word camisola, which comes from the Italian camisciola, a diminutive of camisa (shirt) [from: Wikitionnaire].

In English camisole /ˈkæmɪsəʊl/ can refer to:
– a type of jacket or jersey with sleeves;
– a loose jacket worn by women when dressed in negligée*;
– an underbodice, often embroidered and trimmed with lace;
– a strait-jacket**
[source].

* ‘in negligée‘ = dressed in informal or unceremonious attire. In French négligé (adj) means ‘slovenly, scruffy, untidy, unkempt, slipshod, frowzy, floppy’; and en tenue négligée means ‘in casual clothing’ [source].

** strait-jacket = camisole de force in French.

Ventriloquism

There was quite a bit of talk about ventriloquism on an episode of QI I watched recently, mainly because one of the guests was a ventriloquist. The word ventriloquism comes for the Latin words venter (stomach, belly, womb) and loquī (to speak) so it means “to speak from the stomach”. It was known as εγγαστριμυθία (gastromancy) in Greek, which means the same thing.

In other languages the word for ventriloquist is either from the Latin, e.g. ventriloquia (Spanish), ventriloque (French), ventriloquo (Italian), or a calque of the word: Bauchredner (German – ‘belly speaker’), Brzuchomówstwo (Polish – ‘belly speaker), 腹語術 (Chinese – ‘belly language art/skill’). In Welsh though, the word is tafleisydd, from tafle (to throw), llais (voice) and -ydd (suffix for a person or tool), so it means ‘voice thrower’.

Ventriloquism apparently started a religious practice. Ventriloquists were thought to be able to speak to the dead and predict the future, and the voices that seemed to come from the stomachs were thought to be those of the dead. By the 19th century ventriloquism became a form of entertainment and people started using dummies, at least in the West. In other parts of the world, such as among the Zulu, Inuit and Maori, ventriloquism is used for religious and ritual purposes.

Ventriloquism involves talking without moving your lips to make it appear that the words are coming from elsewhere. It is also known as throwing your voice, though no throwing is involved. To make bilabial sounds such as /m/ and /b/ without lip movement the trick is apparently to substitute similar sounds – /n/ and /g/. If you say them fast your listeners’ brains will hopefully hear the letters you want them to – we tend to hear what we expect to hear anyway. Then again, you could just use other words without the troublesome letters. More details.

Have you tried ventriloquism?

I can sort of do it, though would need more practice to do it convincingly.

What I wonder is whether it is easier to ventriloquise in some languages or accents than in others, and whether there are many bilingual/polyglot ventriloquists who speak one language themselves and have their dummy or dummies speaking others. That might be a fun way to practise languages and interpretation skills.

Nursery rhymes and computers

Comptine /kɔ̃tin/ is the French for nursery rhyme or for a counting rhyme or song. I learnt it last night and thought I’d look into where it comes from.

According Wiktionnaire, comptine is made up of compte (count, number, account) and the suffix -ine. Compte /kɔ̃t/ comes from computus (count, number, account, calculation), from computo (to count – computer in French), from con- (suffix = with; all) and putō (to think, suppose, reckon, count, prune), perhaps from the Proto-Indo-European *pu- (to wash).

My French dictionary says that comptine refers particularly to nursery rhymes involving counting, which is reflected in its etymology. Other words for children’s songs include chansons pour enfant (songs for children) and berceuse (lullaby, cradle song, hushaby, rocking chair), which also means nursemaid, and comes from bercer (to rock, cradle, lull), which apparently comes from Gaulish.

Links
Comptines et chansons pour enfant
Toutes les comptines et chansons pour enfants
Comptines.net – Paroles de Comptines et Berceuses pour enfants et bébes

Fence sitting

Last night I learnt the French equivalent of the English idiom, to sit on the fence (to be undecided in opinion, or neutral in action) – ménager la chèvre et le choux [source], or “to keep the goat and the cabbage”. This phrase is also translated as “to face both ways”, “to keep everyone happy”, “have a foot in both camps” and “to play both ends against the middle”.

As a verb ménager means to handle carefully, to treat considerately, to take care not to hurt sb’s pride, to take care of, to look after or to arrange. As an adjective it means household, domestic, housework, housewife or canteen. The related noun, ménage, means household, housework or housekeeping.

Expressions including ménager and ménage include:

– ménager ses forces – to save one’s strength
– ne pas ménager – to spare no effort.
– robot ménager – food processor
– appareil ménager – domestic appliance
– jeune ménage – young couple
– argent du ménage – housekeeping money
– chef de ménage – head of the household
– chocolat de ménage – plain chocolate
– (mal)heureux en ménage – (un)happily married
– ménage à trois
– (grand) ménage de printemps – spring cleaning

Etymology: ménager and ménage come from the Old French word manoir (to remain, stay, dwell, reside), from the Latin manēre / maneo (same meaning as manoir) [source], from the Proto-Indo-European root *men- (to stay) [source], which is also the root of the French words maison (house) and manoir (manor house), of the English word manor, and of mansion, which is found in French and English.

Eyelid batting

The other day a friend asked me about the origins of the phrase “to bat an eyelid”, which is normally used in the negative – he didn’t bat an eyelid at the pink elephant in the fridge – and means that you don’t react or show emotion when surprised or shocked. Or in other words, you took it in your stride. We wondered way it’s ‘bat’, which seems a strange thing to do with your eyelids.

The same verb is used in the phrase “to bat ones eyes/eyelashes”, meaning to open and close your eyes very quickly several times, intending to be attractive to someone [source].

According to the OED, the verb to bat is a variant of bate (to flutter as a hawk), from the Old French batre (to contend, fight, strive, flutter), from the late Latin batĕre/battĕre, from the classical Latin batuĕre (to hit, beat, pound). This comes from the Proto-Indo-European prefix bhau- (to hit) [source], which is also the root of such English words as butt and batter.