I know I’m speaking a lot about my new-found love for tennis at the moment, but it’s very hard to ignore the parallels between trying to learn French and picking up a tennis racket again after a 40-year gap (and I was no Navratilova in the first place, je vous assure*).

My friend and I started hitting balls late last year and loved it so much we decided to do it more regularly in 2023. After a few sessions, though, it became clear we needed some help, so we started doing a lesson before work on a Thursday and then having a hit on a Saturday.

We dream of being able to turn up and spend the whole hour on the court, rallying back and forth to one another in a calm and competent manner. You won’t be surprised to hear that our current experience is a very long way from that. Some days we manage to hit a few shots in a row, but many, many balles de tennis* end up going straight into the net or way over the baseline at the other end. One or two have even somehow gone through a mysterious hole in my strings and hit the fence behind me, but we won’t dwell on those ones.

A very similar thing may happen to you when you try to speak French. We know that most of you are borderline fluent when under the shower or when driving, but when it comes the time to have a real conversation with another person, suddenly you find yourself afflicted with all manner of trous de mémoires*.

For beginners, this can be put down to nerves and is completely natural, but what if you’ve been doing French for a while and you still draw a blank? Or worse, find yourself heading down a rabbit hole from which there appears to be no return?

We find this usually happens because you’re trying to speak French as you do English (or your native language, whatever that may be). I really don’t enjoy saying this, but it’s simply impossible for most of us.

The average adult knows between 25 000 and 35 000 words in their mother tongue. By the end of our Absolute Beginner 1 course, you’ll know approximately 200 words, so if you extrapolate that figure, by the time you’ve completed our Intermediate Revision Course you’d know about 2 500 words. That is, you have approximately 10% of the word power in French that you do in English.

But, don’t be too déçu(e)*. You can absolutely make this work to your advantage. Over the course of the next few newsletters, I’ll be offering up my top five tips as to how to pull that off.

You’ll definitely notice there’s a running theme in all of the tips. If you remember nothing else, please learn this one par cœur*: lentement mais sûrement*.

So you know by now that my dream of lazily (and competently) rallying with my friend from either side of the net is on hold as we get to grips with the basics.

At one of our very first lessons, as Vince, our tennis coach, watched Tanya and I flail around the court trying to hit winners (which were for the great majority definitely losers), he casually mentioned the concept of the 100-point rally. Naturellement*, this stopped us in our tracks. The tennis definition of the word rally “is a sequence of back and forth shots between players” and I’m pretty sure two shots in a row is stretching the meaning of the word ‘sequence’. Vince gently suggested that the next time we had a hit together, we have as our goal to reach a 100-point rally without an error. Jaws on the floor, Tanya and I paused to consider just how gently and carefully we’d need to hit the ball if we were to get beyond 10 points in a row, let alone 100. Firstly, we’d have to move much closer to the net to reduce the margin for error. We’d have to take care to make sure the ball simply hit the strings, rather than try to erase the Dunlop logo with each whack. Lastly, we’d have to be mindful of where the other was standing to make sure the shot was easy for them to reach (needless to say our footwork is inexistant* at this point).

Every single bit of this can be applied to speaking French and another definition of the word ‘rally’ might be worth bearing in mind: to draw or call (persons) together for a common action or effort.

Sure, when you’re approaching fluency, knock your socks off by adding flourishes and brilliant tournures de phrases*, but when you’re just starting out, be a good partner to your interlocuteur*. That is, physically position yourself in a comfortable manner to get ready to communicate. This means: lower the shoulders, take a couple of deep breaths to centre yourself, open up your body language and look your partner in the eye. Take another slow breath et voilà*! You’re closer to the net already.

Next, scrap the complicated English sentence you’re dying to communicate, and instead, imagine you’re about to explain that same idea to a four-year-old. How would you speak? Slowly? Carefully? Using simple language? Pausing every now and then to check they were following? Oui*? Now you’re on the path to success.

Imagine the opening question was “What are you doing today after the class?”. Instead of trying to say (to use an example from a recent class, merci* Martha!) “I’ve gotta rush home because I’ve got a guy coming to sand and reseal the deck” try this instead: “Aujourd’hui, après la classe, un homme vient à la maison. Il va travailler sur mon balcon.” Granted, not textbook perfect French, but you’ve got your message across, probably in a slow and deliberate manner but also hopefully (and this is by far the most important bit) in a way that is easily comprehensible.

Finally, be kind to your speaking partner, particularly if they’re not quite as advanced as you. This goes back to the four-year-old idea. Be sure to choose simple words and phrases you think your French-speaking buddy will understand. Don’t deny them the incredible pleasure of understanding a couple of simple sentences in a French they’re likely to be familiar with. You know the feeling yourself, so be sure to share it around as much as you can.

I really hope this advice doesn’t come across as patronising as it is sûrement* not my intent. You know how to communicate extremely well in your mother tongues, quite likely a great deal better than me. What I notice, though, is that in our excitement (anxiety?) to speak French, we sometimes forget the basics. It is my strong belief that if you can adopt this approach the next time you have a go at speaking, you’ll see more smiles than frowns, and that goes for your classroom potes* and ‘real’ French people as well.

Next month: walk before you can run.

Bon courage*!

Le Top 5 tips for speaking French.