Go back to basics

Arriving at work a few weeks ago, and with this article half-written in my head, I happened up on a scene that was not only très familier* but enabled me to round out my thoughts on the matter of how to learn French (or at least a very important aspect of it): what to do when you get stuck.

There was someone, let’s call her Catherine, talking to one of our tutors, let’s call her Marie-Hélène (because that is her name and she deserves most of the credit for the ideas in this article).

Those of you who come to lessons at Lingua Franca know there are (strangely steep) steps to arrive au nid* and that the front is all glass. As I puffed my way to the top, I grinned as I saw Catherine and Marie-Hélène speaking to one another in French (I could could tell by the way they were moving their mouths - French is all out front, with English the face is flatter). I was so rapt because I could see they were enjoying a really lovely little chat before they started their respective classes. They looked both engaged and relaxed.

However, as soon as I opened the door and they saw me, the conversation stopped dead. I encouraged them to keep going, and they did pick up the thread of the conversation but I could tell without even looking at Catherine that she was feeling self-conscious now that I was there. Her speech became halting, she made a mistake, corrected herself, then looked at me for reassurance, and within the space of a few seconds, simply gave up, exclaiming “And I was going so well!”

I agreed, she was going so well and I felt really bad that my arrival had put paid to a great little French moment for her. I felt for her, which is illuminating because as I write this, I realise that when the very same thing happens to me, I don’t feel empathy for myself, I just feel like une idiote*.

People are often surprised to hear that this also happens to me, but I can assure you it does. Even though I can rabbit on at full speed in French with my workmates sans problème*, the whole atmosphere changes if one of their (French) partners or friends walks in. All of a sudden, that critical voice in my head revs up and consequently mon français part en quenouille*. I start doubting myself, sure I’m making errors the owner of a French school shouldn’t, positive the partner or friend is judging me, then I start looking to my workmates for reassurance that I’m not making error and so it devolves. The whole thing would be funny if it didn’t make for such an awkward scene.

The only thing that is reassuring to me is that my workmates, who are second-language speakers themselves, all report feeling the same thing but in reverse when speaking English. In fact, I’ve really got nothing to complain about - I face this situation from time to time. They face it every day. And, when I lived in France, I faced it every day, too, and managed to overcome it to a degree.

I think when you’re speaking to someone you don’t know, it’s easier. Of course you may be a bit nervous or shy to trot out your French when you’re not used to it, but the stakes are relatively low, and if you’re forced to speak your second language day after day, you do lose a lot of that apprehension. However, place most of us in a situation where we actually care about the outcome, and our French can grind to a halt.

So, the solution I was going to offer in my previously-mentioned half-written article was simply this:

When we’re under stress and our mind is going a million miles an hour we tend to forget to breathe. By pausing and taking a breath, we can often put the brakes on the runaway train that is our mind.

For a brief second, just take notice of your surroundings and with any luck, you’ll feel your brain start to relax.

Then, in order to quieten that critical voice in your head, follow Marie-Hélène’s excellent advice, which is:

Marie-Hélène suggests going to back to phrases you know you know. According to her, this is not the time to try to break out a new phrase you learned last week and think you know. Fall back on the phrases you use all the time, even if they may seem too simple for the occasion. Better to get out a simple sentence than no sentence at all, non*?

This makes sense to me. If our brain is already stressed and our critical little voice is telling us we’re rubbish at French, pulling out a well-worn phrase or two may just be enough to stop it right in its tracks. Fake it till you make it.

Marie-Hélène suggests creating a stock of these simple phrases in your mind, and practising them over and over again until they become second nature. That way, when you’re under the pump, you should be able to pull out something of use quite quickly.

The way I imagine it is in terms of luggage. When we travel, we usually pack one piece of carry-on luggage with all our essential items for use in flight. It may not contain our prettiest or most sophisticated items, but it does contain things that get the job done (passeport*, téléphone*, portefeuille*, mouchoirs*, châle*). Reaching for a fancy phrase when under pressure is the equivalent of asking to disembark the plane to access your suitcase which is located at the back of the hold because you know, you just know, that once you’ve remembered how to unlock it, and under five layers of t-shirts and just next to your wash bag, you’re sure you have just the bon mot* for the occasion. Meanwhile, your fellow travellers have ordered their cocktails and are settling in to watch a movie.

Next month, what exactly are those phrases you want in your carry-on? We’ll take a look, and offer you some options according to your level.

In the meantime, continue to be courageous. Not everyone would even give it a go. Chapeau* !

*very familiar | *at the nest | *an idiot | *no problem | *my French goes down the toilet | *isn’t that right? | *passport | *telephone | *wallet | *tissues | *shawl | *clever turn of phrase | *Hats off to you!

Sneak Peek into Le Nid

Quels sont les produits français les plus appréciés par l’équipe Lingua Franca ? Voyons*….

*Which are the French products the Lingua Franca team enjoy the most? Let’s take a look…

La Petite Histoire

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 5 of the Intermediate 1 level.

*The Little Story | *The Prequel

Deux jours plus tard, je prenais un verre avec Noëlle après notre leçon dans un petit café près de la Sorbonne. Il faisait beau et nous étions dehors pour profiter du soleil.

“Ah, j’adore Paris,” a dit Noëlle. “Cette ville est vraiment spéciale. Sydney est une belle ville aussi, bien sûr, et la baie et les plages sont magnifiques, mais Paris a une beauté qui est difficile de surpasser.”

“Tu te sens vraiment à l’aise ici, alors, Noëlle ?” j’ai demandé.

“En fait, c’est plus que ca, Leïla. C’est chez moi. Je me sens très bien dans ma peau ici. J’adore l’Australie, mais franchement, vivre en Europe me va très bien. J’ai très envie de rester ici.”

“Oui, Jean-Louis a dit que tu parlais de ça quand tu étais chez nous l’autre jour. Il a dit que tu vas essayer de trouver un travail ici pour pouvoir rester. C’est vrai ?”

“Oui, tout à fait. Un travail…ou un homme. Peu importe !” elle a exclamé.

“Mais comment ça, un homme ?” j’ai demandé, confuse.

“Ben, comme je disais à Jean-Louis, c’est une question de visa. Je peux avoir un visa pour rester ici grâce à un travail, ou grâce à un homme. Un homme français, bien sûr,” elle a ajouté et elle a souri. “Tu veux un autre vin rosé, Leïla ?”

“Ah, oui, pourquoi pas? Jean-Louis est à la maison avec les enfants ce soir. Je ne dois pas rentrer tout de suite.”

“Mais tu dois rentrer pour préparer son dîner, non ?” Noëlle me taquinait…je crois.

“Il n’est pas comme ça, Noëlle. C’est juste qu’il ne sait pas cuisiner, donc c’est plus facile si je prépare le dîner.”

“Mais c’est 1968, Leïla, pas 1938. Le monde a changé !”

Je voulais dire quelque chose, mais j’ai remarqué que Noëlle ne me regardait plus. Elle regardait Simon, mon professeur d’anglais qui traversait la rue.

“C’est ton prof, Noëlle ? Comment il s’appelle ?”

“Simon, mais - ” j’ai commencé à dire, mais c’était trop tard.

“Ooh, il est beau ! Simon ! Par ici ! Venez nous joindre !”

Et juste comme ça, ma vie est devenue un peu plus compliquée.

Two days later, I was having a drink with Noëlle after our lesson at a little café near the Sorbonne. It was nice weather et we were outside to make the most of the sun.

"Oh, I love Paris," said Noëlle. "This city is truly special. Sydney is a beautiful city as well, of course, and the harbour and the beaches are magnificent, but Paris has a beauty that is hard to beat."

"You feel really at ease here, then, Noëlle?" I asked.

"In fact, it's more than that, Leïla. This is my home. I fell really comfortable in my skin here. I adore Australia, but frankly, living in Europe suits me very well. I really want to stay here.”

“Yes, Jean-Louis said that you were talking about that when you were at our place the other day. He said that you are going to try to find a job here in order to be able to stay. Is that true?”

“Yes, absolutely. A job…or a man. Doesn’t matter!” she exclaimed.

“What do you mean, a man?” I asked, confused.

“Well, as I was saying to Jean-Louis, it’s a matter of a visa. I can have a visa to stay here thanks to a job, or thanks to a man. A French man, of course,” she added and she smiled. “Do you want another rosé, Leïla?”

“Oh, yes, why not? Jean-Louis is at home with the children tonight. I don’t have to go home straight away.”

“But you have to go home to make his dinner, don’t you?” Noëlle was teasing me…I think.

“He’s not like that, Noëlle. It’s just that he doesn’t know how to cook, so it’s easier if I prepare the dinner.”

“But it’s 1968, Leïla, not 1928. The world has changed!”

I wanted to say something, but I noticed that Noëlle was no longer looking at me. She was looking at Simon, my English professor, who was crossing the road.

“It that your teacher, Noëlle? What’s his name?”

“Simon, but - ” I started to say, but it was too late.

“Ooh, he’s handsome ! Simon ! Over here! Come and join us!”

And just like that, my life became a little more complicated.

Let it go

Welcome to the fourth article in our new series: How to Learn French. Not just les rouages*, but tips on the attitudes and practices you can adopt to ensure your success.

The verb tenir in French means ‘to hold’ and as a way of remembering it, I often suggest students think of the English word tenacious. A tenacious person holds fast that which they wish to retain. They don’t let it go, and this is generally considered a positive quality.

Tenacity, though, can sometimes lead to obstinacy and stubbornness, and now we’re sensing there might be a flip side to this coin. In the thesaurus, a couple of adjacent meanings are ‘intransigent’ and ‘mulish’ and suddenly I find I’m not so keen to call myself tenace* after all.

For yourself and for the sake of your French, sometimes you’ve just got to let it go.

There’s definitely a place for rigour and precision in language learning, and we’ll certainly cover that in a future article, but in some instances, greater strides can be made by adopting an attitude of benign neglect.

Laissez-moi expliquer*.

Many of our students love French so much that they want to understand every single word they hear. This I understand, of course, and I place myself firmly dans leur camp*. However, after years of observing students tackle listening exercises, in particular, it’s become clear to me that attempting to decipher every single syllable can be detrimental to comprehension.

More successful are the students who are able to sit back, relax, and concentrate on trying to gain une compréhension globale*. These days, I can usually pick these students by their body language. They tend to recline slightly in their chairs, some even close their eyes, and they often emanate a slightly amused air. It’s almost as if they’re giggling to themselves saying “Okay, this is going to be interesting, but let’s just wait and see how bad it is, and I’ll see what I can salvage from the wreckage once it’s over.”

The tenacious students, by contrast, are usually hunched over their notepads, pencils at the ready (freshly sharpened, naturellement*), brow furrowed and shoulders rising to lobe-level. I’m not mocking these students, je vous assure*, as I am one myself, or at least I was one. I’m trying to reform.

What tends to happen to the hyper-alert, tenacious students is that things go well until they encounter the first word they don’t understand. At this point, they become fixated on that one word, and that is where their comprehension stalls. They’re obsessing over that one word, meanwhile the audio track is continuing apace, and if they do manage to unstick themselves from where they got stuck, they then realise they’ve missed the last ten seconds of the track and la panique* really sets in.

Conversely, the more laidback listener has accepted they’ve missed the word, but they’ve maintained their gentle focus and are often able to get the general gist out of the rest of the track. In an exam, you’re usually granted a second if not third listen, and this is where these students fill in some of the details. Moreover, by maintaining their slightly detached approach, they’re often able ascertain where the action is taking place (in the street, in a shop, over a meal), and are more keenly aware of the attitude of the speakers (excited, frustrated, angry). This allows them to make educated guesses at to what the content of the track is, and increases the chance of a broader comprehension and, therefore, success.

I remember sitting a French exam many years ago where I fell straight into the piège* of the tenacious listener. Hunched over, pencil poised, straining to get as close as possible as I could to the cassette player (as I said, many years ago…), the examiner hit the play button and we were off. I was okay for the first few seconds, I was pretty sure I heard the word Bretagne, so had placed myself in Brittany (or was it Britain? Oh god…ne panique pas*!).

A couple of seconds later I heard the word ‘far’, and started to smile. I couldn’t believe my luck (or was it cunning?). In the course of my preparation for the exam, I’d become friendly with my teacher, who happened to be from Bretagne and who had, only a few nights before, made me a Far Breton, a traditional cake from Brittany. A self-satisfied smirk divoted my face as I continued to listen to the fast-moving track, quietly confident that I was streets ahead of the others in the room.

That is, until I heard the words ‘bord de la mer’ (seaside), ‘danser’ (to dance), ‘autour’ (around), ‘le vent’ (the wind). My smirk faded, my brow contracted and a light sweat broke out on my hands and face as I struggled to work out what on earth was going on. I had images of dark-haired Bretons in traditional dress doing the French version of ring-a-ring-a-rosie around a dense cake in a high wind on a treacherous cliff. What the hell was going on?

Mercifully, the audio track eventually stopped, I made some chicken scratchings in lieu of actual answers and before I knew it, the deuxième écoute* had started up, way before I was ready. Still focused on my beloved ‘far’, I picked up very little new information, made some rather minable* amendments to my scribble, and red-faced, handed in my exam.

Outside, and partaking in the usual post-exam outpouring of anxiety, I was loudly lamenting that I couldn’t make the connection between the dancing and the cake, when someone next to me said “Oh, I thought ‘phare’ meant lighthouse.” A couple of others chimed in that they’d thought the same and then it all made sense. Well, relative sense. I still maintain dancing around a lighthouse once a year as part of a Breton festival abuts on the absurd, but it makes a whole lot more sense than a stupid cake-dance.

Lesson learned? Well, no, not really. I still found myself stopping in my tracks at the first mystery word, whether in a listening exam, a casual conversation with a colleague, or when reading. In fact, for many years, I somewhat ruined the joy of reading in French by swapping novel for dictionary at every new word, assiduously making notes in the margins, and then picking up where I left off. It’s true, my vocabulary improved somewhat, but really only if the word recurred multiple times in rapid succession. And I found the exercise so laborieux* that I rarely made it past the first few pages before giving it away, anyway. Students I know who took a more laissez-faire* approach to reading convinced me that they eventually came to understand the story without cracking a dictionnaire* because they were (sagement*) more focused on the context and mood, rather than every petit détail*.

This approach is valuable in situ, as well. Imagine you’re in France and you ask someone for directions. They launch into a detailed explanation of the best route and you can feel your anxiety start to rise as you realise you didn’t understand the fifth word they said. This has happened to me on countless occasions and it is only recently that I’ve stopped falling into the trap of remaining fixated on that elusive word. I’ve learned that in many instances the reason you’ve not understood is that it’s the name of a street or a shop you’ve never heard of. Better to try to keep your focus, be on the lookout for key words, stay attuned to the person’s gestures and facial expressions and then, once they’ve wrapped up, go back and politely ask them to repeat the very first bit. If you’re able to garder le sang froid*, you’ll get a general sense if it’s miles away or just around the corner, and if it’s a complicated or simple route. Nearby and easy to get to? Say ‘Merci, c’est gentil.*’ and off you go on your merry way. Miles away and complicated to get to? Bonjour Uber.

Finally, remember that learning French is a long and lovely road. Ultimately it’s yours to navigate in the way that suits you best. Just bear in mind that it’s also a winding road, even circuitous at times. Words have a way of circling back to you, over and over it seems, so you’ll always have another opportunity to catch up to that slippery word around the next corner.

Relax your shoulders, loosen your grip and enjoy.

*the nuts and bolts | *tenacious | *Let me explain | *in their camp | *an overall understanding | *naturally | *I assure you | *the panic | *trap | *don’t panic | *second listen | *pathetic | *hands off | *laborious | *dictionary | *wisely | *little detail | *keep your cool | *Thank you, that’s kind of you

La Petite Histoire

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 4 of the Intermediate 1 level.

*The Little Story | *The Prequel

Je me suis levée pour aller dans la cuisine et j’ai commencé à préparer le café. Je pouvais entendre mon mari, Jean-Louis, et mon amie, Noëlle, qui parlaient.

”Donc, vous disiez que vous voulez rester ici à Paris après vos études, Noëlle. En fait, ça vous dérange si on se dit ‘tu’?” a demandé Jean-Louis.

”Avec plaisir,” a répondu Noëlle. “Je sais qu’on ne se connaît pas très bien, mais Leïla parle de vous…oups, pardon, de toi beaucoup, donc j’ai l’impression de te connaître bien déjà.”

”Toi, aussi, Noëlle. Donc, tu penses pouvoir trouver un travail à la fin de tes études?”

”Normalement, oui, Jean-Louis. La Sorbonne est une excellente université, comme vous savez, et d’habitude, il y a beaucoup de demande pour les professeurs. Mais, avec la situation en ce moment, ça ne va pas être facile.”

”Comment ça?” a demandé Jean-Louis, “Quel est le problème?”

”Ben, l’économie ne va pas très bien, et par conséquent, il n’y a pas beaucoup de travail. Les étudiants ont peur de ne pas pouvoir trouver un travail après leurs études,” a expliqué Noëlle.

”Oui, mais tout le monde sait que les étudiants sont paresseux, Noëlle. S’ils veulent vraiment travailler, ils peuvent trouver un poste.”

J’étais toujours dans la cuisine quand j’ai entendu ça et quand je suis retournée dans la salle à manger avec le café, Noëlle avait l’air fâché.

”Ce n’est pas comme ça, Jean-Louis,” j’ai dit. “Il y a un vrai problème en ce moment et de Gaulle et ses ministres ne font rien ! Il y a même des problèmes au campus de Nanterre. Je connais des étudiants là-bas et ils ne sont pas contents.”

”Les étudiants ne sont jamais contents !” a crié Jean-Louis. “Ils critiquent tout, tout le temps ! C’est ridicule !”

”J’hésite à te dire, Jean-Louis, mais ils commencent à faire plus que critiquer. Ils s’organisent, et ils vont commencer à faire des manifestations très bientôt. Je suis d’accord avec eux. Moi aussi, je vais manifester,” Noëlle a dit avec beaucoup de passion.

”Moi au -", j’ai commencé, mais dans le même instant, Jean-Louis a décidé de parler.

”Ben, je peux te dire, Noëlle, que Leïla ne va pas faire ça, ça c’est sûr. Pas ma femme !

”J’ai rougi, j’ai baissé la tête et j’ai servi le café.

I got up to go into the kitchen and I started to prepare the coffee. I was able to hear my husband, Jean-Louis, et my friend, Noëlle, who were speaking.

“So, you were saying that you think you want to stay here is Paris after your studies, Noëlle. In fact, does it bother you if we call each other ‘tu’?” asked Jean-Louis.

“With pleasure,” responded Noëlle. “I know that we don’t know one another very well, but Leïla speaks about you…oops, sorry, you a lot, so I have the impression of already knowing you well.”

“You, too, Noëlle. So, you think you’ll be able to find a job at the end of your studies?”

“In theory, yes, Jean-Louis. The Sorbonne is an excellent university as you well know, and usually, there is a lot of demand for teachers. But, with the situation at the moment, it’s not going to be easy.”

“In what way?” asked Jean-Louis. “What’s the problem?”

“Well, the economy isn’t going very well, and as a consequence, there isn’t a lot of work. Students are scared about not being able to find a job after their studies,” explained Noëlle.

“Yes, but everyone knows students are lazy, Noëlle. If they really want to work, they can find a position.”

I was still in the kitchen when I heard that and when I returned to the dining room with the coffee, Noëlle seemed angry.

“It’s not like that, Jean-Louis,” I said. “There is a real problem at the moment and de Gaulle and his ministers are doing nothing! There are problems at the Nanterre campus. I know some students there and they’re not happy.”

“Students are never happy?” cried Jean-Louis. “They criticise everything, all the time! It’s ridiculous!”

“I hesitate to tell you, Jean-Louis, but they’re starting to do more than criticise. They are getting organised, and they’re going to start protesting very soon. I agree with them. I’m going to protest as well,” Noëlle said with a lot of passion.

“Me t - ,” I started, but at the same time, Jean-Louis decided to speak.

“Well, I can tell you, Noëlle, that Leïla is not going to do that. Not my wife!”

I blushed, lowered my head and I served the coffee.

TV5 Monde

With a fresh set of students enjoying the Club de Culture Cinéma series this term, there has been a lot of talk of les films français*.

We were recommended the TV5 Monde Plus site for its enormous gamme* of French content, from movies to series to docos, and there is even a French language section. A word of warning though: I couldn’t click on that option fast enough, but noticed it was pitched more towards native French speakers, so while interesting, it’s probably something to strive for rather than likely to offer any immediate solutions to your French défis*.

That said, there’s a great little animated series called Quelle Histoire* (we’ve mentioned the books in a previous post) which are a fun watch. There is also a brilliant four-season series called La Grande Explication* which serves up five minute bites explaining iconic moments in history.

La meilleure nouvelle*? There are English subtitles on offer, giving you the choice to follow along, or turn them off for a more immersive experience.

*French films | *range | *challenges | *What a Story/History | *The Big Explanation | *The best bit of news

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

The Olympic Games of Words

With Paris set to host Les Jeux Olympiques* in 2024, thoughts have turned to the safeguarding of French as the official language.

While in Australia it’s fair to say we’re a nation obsessed by sport, in reading this article you may come to the conclusion that the French drive that passion towards leur langue* instead.

A read that had me giggle at the get-go, frown a few paragraphs later, pause in contemplation au milieu* before feeling queasy at the closing sentence, I couldn’t recommend this piece more highly.

Bonne lecture*.

*The Olympic Games | *their language | *in the middle | *Happy reading

Four wheels under an umbrella

If you’ve studied French for a while or had at least a passing interest in French culture, you’ll most likely have heard of the Citroën 2CV.

It may have cropped up when you learned about the tréma accent it contains (and if you’ve forgotten its impact, here’s Katrina explaining it) or perhaps you’ve heard people reminiscing with beaucoup d’affection* about their travels around France in the 70s and 80s behind the wheel of one of these très petites voitures* or TPVs as they were known in the Citroën factory.

André Citroën had dreams of being the Henry Ford of France but this politically ambitious man was unfortunately also un joueur invétéré*, and soon ran into financial difficulty.

Fortunately, the newly installed patron*, Pierre Boulanger (who, had he been born on British soil would have been plain old Peter Baker) inherited a talented team of engineers. Pierre enjoyed walks in the countryside, and was taken by the pace of the farmers in horse-drawn carts who kept gentle rhythm with their chevaux*. He decided to replace the deux chevaux with deux chevaux-vapeur*, and the idea for the 2CV was born.

A simple edict to the engineers followed:

I’m no engineer, but with only 2CV under the hood, you’d imagine the Citroën 2CV is not exactly at risk of getting away from you on the open road. James Bond, however, would disagree, and a nun with a lead foot gives Louis Funès a lift he’ll never forget in this charming petite vidéo*.

*lots of affection | *very small cars | *chronic gambler | *boss | *horses | *horsepower | *little video

Swoon Biarritz

Biarritz is located in the Basque Country which straddles France and Spain at the foot of Les Pyrénées and has enough on offer to warrant multiple visits.

Whether you come for le surf*, le cidre* or les crampottes*, be sure to leave plenty of time for lazing about on the beach before feasting on une piperade* and un bon verre d’Irouleguy*. Paradis*.

*the surf | *the cider | *the whitewashed fishing huts | *a local omelette-like dish made of espelette peppers and tomatoes | *a good glass of the local wine | *Heaven

La Petite Histoire

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 1 level.

*The Little Story | *The Prequel

Noëlle et moi étudiions quand mon mari, Jean-Louis, est rentré. Il est entré dans le salon, a mis son manteau sur le canapé et a souri.

“Ah, les intellos ! Comment ça va?”

Noëlle a rigolé et je me suis levée pour lui faire la bise.

“Bonjour, mon chéri, je te présente mon amie Noëlle. Noëlle, mon mari Jean-Louis.”

“Enchantée, Jean-Louis,” Noëlle a dit poliment.

“Vous aussi, Noëlle. Bienvenue chez nous. Vous êtes américaine? Vous parlez très bien français, mais est-ce que j’entends un petit accent?”

“Merci, c’est gentil. Je suis australienne, en fait, de Sydney.”

“Oh là là, c’est loin! Depuis combien de temps vous habitez en France?” a demandé Jean-Louis.

“Ça fait presque trois ans maintenant, Jean-Louis. Je suis venue ici pour étudier le français et pour profiter ce cette belle ville. J’adore habiter ici. Je voudrais rester après mes études, si possible.”

“Ah, bon?” a répondu Jean-Louis. “Vous pensez que ça va être possible?”

“J’aime penser que tout est possible, Jean-Louis, mais c’est une question de visa, bien sûr. Je vais essayer de trouver un travail comme professeur d’anglais après l’université si je peux.”

“Et Noëlle est une très bonne tutrice. Elle m

aide beaucoup donc je ne vois pas de problème pour elle dans le futur,” j’ai dit. “Est-ce que tu vas nous joindre pour un petit café, Jean-Louis? Nous allons prendre une pause.”

Jean-Louis a hésité pour un instant, et puis m’a surpris quand il a dit “Volontiers!”

Noëlle and I were studying when my husband, Jean-Louis, came home. He came into the living room, put his coat on the couch and smiled.

”Ah, the intellectuals! How are you going?”

Noëlle laughed and I got up to give him a kiss hello.

”Hello, darling, this is my friend Noëlle. Noëlle, my husband Jean-Louis."

"Delighted, Jean-Louis," Noëlle said politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

”You too, Noëlle. Welcome to our house. Are you American? You speak really good French, but can I hear a little accent?”

“Thanks, that’s kind of you. I’m Australian, in fact, from Sydney.”

“Oh wow, that’s far away! How long have you lived in France for?” asked Jean-Louis.

“It’s almost three years now, Jean-Louis. I came here to study French and to make the most of this magical city. I love living here. I’d like to stay after my studies, if possible.”

“Oh really?” responded Jean-Louis. “Do you think it’s going to be possible?”

“I like to think that everything is possible, Jean-Louis, but it’s a visa question, of course. I am going to try to find a job as an English teacher after university if I can.”

“And Noëlle is a very good tutor. She helps me a lot so I don’t see a problem for her in the future,” I said. “Are you going to join is for a quick coffee, Jean-Louis? We’re going to take a break.”

Jean-Louis hesitated for a second, and then surprised me when he said “Sure!”

More French Cinéma - Jacques Tatie retrospective in May

The Brisbane multi-cultural cinema scene se porte de mieux en mieux* !

With the curtain only just coming down on the 2022 Alliance française French film festival, Dendy Cinemas have taken up the relais* with the announcement of a Jacques Tatie retrospective from the 11th - 22nd May.

While Tatie is known to French cinema fans as a comic genius in the vein of Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton, he was a man of many talents….et professions*. We have two tickets to give away. To win, be the first to éliminez l’intrus*. The question: which of the professions below can Jacques Tatie not claim as his own?

Bonne chance* !

*is going from strength to strength | *reins | *and professions | *find the odd one out | *Good luck!

Meet the Team - Julie André

Le départ de David* left a big hole here at Lingua Franca but we are absolutely delighted to announce we’ve found someone equally engaging to fill his chaussures*.

Nous vous présentons Julie André*.

From touring around Australia in a camper van toute seule*, to building and managing holiday accommodation in Bali, this is a woman who wears many hats.

If you have the opportunity to meet her (or even better be in one of her classes), count yourself truly chanceux*.

*

*David’s departure | *shoes | *Allow us to introduce you to Julie André | *all by herself | *lucky

Papier dominoté

If you have an eye for design, you’re going to love indulging in your own research à propos du papier dominoté*. So what is the name of the craft behind it and what is it exactly anyway?

The charmant* website Madame Décore gives this definition:

Dominoterie : désigne la conception, la fabrication ou le commerce de papiers peints et imprimés en couleur de motifs géométriques ou floraux que l'on trouve fréquemment à l'intérieur des coffres, des armoires, des tiroirs, mais également dans les cartons à chapeaux et même les cheminées. Très en vogue au XVIIIème et début du XIXème siècle, le papier dominoté servait de garnissage pour les livres et le mobilier, en ce temps où chaque détail avait son importance.

Dominoterie : refers to the design, production or trade of colour-printed and painted paper in floral or geometric design which one often finds on the inside of chests, wardrobes and drawers, but also in hatboxes and even chimneys. Very fashionable in the 18th and beginning of the 19th century, papier dominoté was used as the trim for books and furnishings, at a time when every detail mattered.

Le papier dominoté is experiencing a resurgence in popularity actuellement*. Not sure you're ready to commit to a whole wall of pattern? How about framing a more modest échantillon* as a nod to this fine craft? Start here.

Source: site web Madame Décore

*about papier dominoté | *charming | *currently | *sample

The new Call My Agent?

If you’re anything like us, the wait for the fabled fifth series (and film!) of Call My Agent commence à traîner*, so if you’re casting about for a stand-in, why not try Standing Up instead?

The latest offering from Fanny Herrero (who also happens to be the showrunner of Dix Pour Cent*) is available on Netflix right now.

Here’s what she has to say about it:

“Drôle, il faut le prendre dans tous les sens. “Drôle” comme ce qui fait rire, évidemment, mais aussi “Drôle” comme ”étrange”, “singulier”, qui ne ressemble pas aux autres.”

— Fanny Herrero, créatrice de Stand Up.

Picture : ft.com

“Funny, you have to take it in all senses. ‘Funny’, as in, something that makes you laugh, obviously, but also ‘funny’ as in ‘strange’, ‘different’, that which is unlike anything else.”

Jetez un œil*…

*is starting to drag | *literally ‘Ten Per Cent’ | *Take a look…

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?

Keep it in your life (cont…)

Welcome to the third article in our new series: How to Learn French. Not just les rouages*, but tips on the attitudes and practices you can adopt to ensure your success.

Last month we looked at ways to keep French in your life even when things take a turn and you’re forced to put your learning on hold for a moment or two.

We’re so determined not to have that (almost) inevitable occurrence spell the end of your French, we’re offering up a second suite of suggestions this month, and we hope they’ll serve as triggers for you to come up with little strategies of your own. Read on…

About ten years ago, I had a student whose French exam was approaching au galop*. I recommended that in the lead-up to the exam she surround herself with as much French as possible.

I was imagining French radio, films and music but after our lesson, Roxanne decided to take it one step further. She changed her phone settings over to French and by the time I saw her the next week she was une épave nerveuse*. She wasn’t highly tech-dexterous in English, let alone in French, so our precious avant-dernière* lesson started with her thrusting her phone into my hands with instructions to “Just fix it!” before we could get down to her exam prep.

As an aside, Roxanne’s life did tend to the absurdly chaotic, anyway. She once accidentally had an entire government building evacuated post-911 when she sent a birthday invitation filled with very fine sparkly confetti to a colleague through internal mail. The envelope didn’t make it past the mailroom, where someone suspected it was anthrax and, alarmed rather than alert, notified the authorities. Roxanne had knocked off for the day and only found out about it when a family member called her to ask if that was her workplace being evacuated on the six o’clock news.

So, while this trick didn’t work for poor Roxanne, I have heard of success stories. We’re also a lot more familiar with our phones de nos jours* so if you think you can handle a few uncomfortable days until you can get used to it, try it out.

Another student I recall went from being mediocre at best with les numéros* to an absolute champion in a very short period of time. He admitted he’d changed over the language of his sat nav to French and the results spoke for themselves. The trick is to get your eyes and ears used to the sights and sounds of French, which leads us on parfaitement* to numéro sept*.

When we’re training students for the DELF exams here at Lingua Franca, we’ve noticed that the listening exercises are almost always the most challenging. For ears habituated from birth to the sounds of English (as is the case for many of our students), being able to decipher French train station announcements, for example, under exam conditions and with a belly full of nerves, is a big ask.

We’ve found some success in helping our students to minimise the shock by encouraging them to seek out French sounds in la vie quotidienne*. My favourite tip is to listen to French radio on the commute to and from work, or to put it on in the background when you’re doing le ménage* or going for a walk, par exemple*. Rather than actively listening, I believe there is a huge amount of value in letting the sounds of French wash over you (a similar effect can be had by listening to French music), while your focus is actually elsewhere.

It’s when our ears are no longer scared of the tonality and melody of the French language that they can start to perceive individual words, rather than the terrifying wall of sound that seems to barrel towards us when we first start to tune in to French. My own listening improved a great deal a couple of years ago (and many years after I’d returned from living in France) when I committed to simply plugging in my phone as I started the car in the morning and listening to France Info (part of the Radio France suite of stations) via their app on the way to work. Try it, be patient with yourself, and in a few weeks or months, I think you’ll be agréablement surpris(e)* by your progress.

Become a French detective as you move about your daily life. The shower is a good place to start. Instead of absentmindedly staring off into space during your daily douche*, take a closer look at the beauty and grooming products that are most likely close to hand. From supermarket to luxury brands, many of the products we use are French, and words like gel douche*, gommage* and crème à raser* will soon be part of your French arsenal.

The same opportunity may lie in your bathroom cabinet. Look out for fond de teint*, rouge à lèvres* and crème solaire* for starters.

Don’t stop there, though. Care labels, pantry staples and stationery items have all been known to leave les empreintes françaises* as well.

Actually, if time is not on your side, forget cooking une recette française* and just try reading one instead. You’ll find that the first two or three you tackle are hard going as they contain a lot of cuisine-specific terminology, but soon enough you’ll see that the vocabulary (and the verbs for that matter) tend to repeat themselves, much as they do in English.

And naturellement*, if la lecture* inspires you to la création* of a mouthwatering French dish, tant mieux*.

So now it’s up to you to passer à l’action*. No matter how determined you are to learn (or continue learning French) it is more likely than not you’ll experience a roadblock or two in your French adventure. If you truly love it, though, j’ai l’impression* that you’ll instinctively find ways to keep it in your life, but juste au cas où*, take five minutes now to write up a quick action plan to safeguard your bonheur*. List two or three ways you'll keep French in your life, even if your rue* becomes a bit rocheuse*. Allez*!

*the nuts and bolts | *at a clip | *nervous wreck | *second-last | *these days | *numbers | *perfectly | *number seven | *daily life | *the housework | *for example | *pleasantly surprised | *shower | *shower gel | scrub | *shaving cream | *foundation | *lipstick | *sunscreen | *French fingerprints | *a French recipe | *naturally | *reading | *creation | *so much the better | *take action | *I have a feeling | *just in case | *happiness | *road | *rocky | *Go!

La Petite Histoire

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 1 level.

*The Little Story | *The Prequel

Cet après-midi, Noëlle est venue chez moi pour notre leçon. On était en vacances alors ma belle-sœur ne gardait pas les enfants. Ils étaient à la maison avec moi. Je ne sais pas comment, mais tous les trois dormaient quand elle est arrivée.

”Hello, my friend!” elle a crié quand elle est entrée.

“Chut!” j’ai dit. ‘Les enfants dorment.”

“Ah, désolée, Leïla, j’oublie toujours que tu as des enfants.”

Noëlle est entrée dans notre petit salon et a mis son sac sur le canapé.

“Ah, j’adore ton appartement. C’est tellement intime !”

”Petit, tu veux dire” j’ai dit, et j’ai rigolé. Noëlle n’est pas toujours très directe.

“Ton mari est ici ?” elle a demandé.

“Non, pas encore. Il va arriver bientôt. Il est au travail.”

"Mais il est 14h30 et tu as dit qu’aujourd’hui il travaille jusqu’à 22h30.”

“Oui, mais il veut te rencontrer,” j’ai dit. “Il aime toujours rencontrer mes nouveaux amis. Il va retourner au travail après.”

“D’accord, je vois,'“ Noëlle a répondu. “Il travaille beaucoup, non ?”

“Oui, c’est vrai. Il travaille tout le temps. Il est très ambitieux et il adore son travail. J’ai de la chance.”

“Tu as de la chance, tu penses ?” Noëlle a dit, surprise. “Mais tu n’es pas un peu seule ? S’il est au travail tout le temps, tu es ici toute la journée avec les enfants. Toi, tu travailles beaucoup, je pense !”

”Oui, c’est vrai, mais ma belle-sœur garde les enfants quand je suis à l’université, et c’est le salaire de Jean-Louis qui paie mes études, donc, comme j’ai dit, j’ai de la chance.” J’étais un peu agitée, je dois dire.

“Mais…” a protesté Noëlle.

“On commence ?” j’ai dit. “On a beaucoup de travail à faire et je n’ai pas beaucoup de temps, malheureusement.

“Oui, d’accord,” a répondu Noëlle mais elle avait l’air contrarié.

This afternoon, Noëlle came to my house for our lesson. We were on holidays so my sister-in-law wasn't minding the children. They were all at home with me. I don't know how, but all three were sleeping when she arrived.

"Hello, my friend,"" she cried when she came in.

"Shhh!"" I said. ""The children are sleeping."

"Oh, sorry, Leïla, I always forget that you have children."

Noëlle came into our little living room and put her bag on the couch.

"Oh, I love your apartment. It's so cosy!"

"Little, you mean,"" I said, and I laughed. Noëlle is not always very direct.

"Is your husband here?" she asked.

"No, not yet. He's going to arrive soon. He's at work."

"But it's 2:30pm and you said that today we works until 10:30pm."

"Yes, but he wants to meet you," I said. "He always likes to meet my new friends. He is going to go back to work afterwards."

"Okay, I see," Noëlle responded. "He works a lot, doesn't he?"

"Yes, that's true. He works all the time. He's very ambitious and he loves his work. I'm lucky."

"You're lucky, you think," Noëlle said, surprised. "But aren't you a bit lonely? If he's at work all the time, you're here all day with the children. It's you who works a lot, I think!"

"Yes, maybe, but my sister-in-law looks after the children when I'm at university and it's Jean-Louis' salary that pays for my studies, so, as I said, I'm lucky." I was a bit agitated, I have to say.

'But..." protested Noëlle.

"Shall we start?" I said. "We have a lot of work to do and I don't have a lot of time, unfortunately."

“Yes, okay," responded Noëlle, but she seemed unhappy.

Keep it in your life

Welcome to the second article in our new series: How to Learn French. Not just les rouages*, but tips on the attitudes and practices you can adopt to ensure your success.

Last month I wrote that the secret to learning French is not to give up. That may seem self-evident, but it’s a little more nuanced than one might think at first glance.

At Lingua Franca we meet people every week who come to us after a huge break in their French learning (sometimes up to 50+ years) who are keen to get stuck into it again. We love helping these people (in fact they account for a very large part of our clientele) but I often reflect on where their French might have been had they somehow managed to hold on, even in the most tenuous of ways. When I think about the progress our students make in just one or two years and extrapolate that to cover a decades-long break, I can’t help but feel a bit sorry for the person in front of me.

Again, that’s not exactly for the reason you might be thinking. Yes, they would have been a lot more advanced had they not taken an extended break (which, by the way, is often not by choice but necessity). What concerns me more is the angst that can accompany the decision to return to a long-dormant skill. So often, by the time they turn up at le nid*, they’ve been wanting to come back to French for a period of months if not years, but have been held back by the fear that they will have forgotten everything they know or worse, are worried they’re no longer even capable of learning. What I really admire is that despite these doubts, they still do take the leap and in almost every single case, they are pleasantly surprised by how much does come back and how much they enjoy learning French again, even with their ‘ancient brains’, as they often refer to them.

So, let’s get into my top tips for keeping French in your life when you need to prendre une pause* from your lessons.

PS This will be a two-parter - look for more tips next month.

If you really love French, you may have a tendency to idolise French people, imagining that they’re cooler, as well as more sophisticated, interesting and cultured than you (am I giving myself away here?). Even if you don’t go to such lengths in your admiration, you’ll still likely want to engage with them when your paths cross, if only to practise your French. I say do it! Sometimes even the briefest of exchanges with a real, live French person can put a pep in your step and, at worst, you’ll probably learn a new word or two. At best, you’ll gain a friend for life. Just square your shoulders, and in a big, brave voix*, hit them with your best bonjour* and see what happens next.

One note of caution, though. While we love practising our French on les Français* we cross paths with in our lives here in Australia, remember that the same is also true for them. Many French travellers are here for the express purpose of improving their English, so be generous. Once you’ve had your say, switch back to English if you get the feeling your interlocutor would appreciate the practice.

Many of us have had the demoralising experience of travelling in a French-speaking country and screwing up the courage to trot out a rudimentary French sentence on an unsuspecting waiter or taxi driver, only to have them reply in perfect English.

I remember with much chagrin when I was working in a café in Perth while at uni, and doing exactly that but in reverse to a lovely young French woman who was seated in my section. She placed her order in careful, heavily-accented English and I, suspecting she was French, and busting to use my skills (and being a show-off at heart, to be honest), responded in rapid-fire French that “Yes, I would be happy to get you a mineral water and a tuna salad and would you like anything else?” I absolutely cringe when I think back to that moment, because now I can see that she'd been sitting there for ages, working up the courage to speak to me in English, and I just trampled all over her moment. I remember my response didn't get the reaction I was hoping for, and at the time I couldn't understand why. I do recall now, though, that her shoulders visibly dropped, and not in a relieved way but in a defeated one.

Now that that very same scene has been played out in reverse to me on countless occasions I finally get it. There's a time and place for everything and these days I think there should be some sort of international rule: he or she who is doing the travelling should be the “practiser” and the local the “practisee” and vice versa. Qu'est-ce vous en pensez*?

Look straight ahead of you wherever you are and take a mental snapshot of what you see. Now, see how many things you can name in French in the image you’re seeing in your mind’s eye. If I do it now, the first three things I see are une chaise*, des livres* and un crayon*. If you’re feeling enthousiaste*, add another two for a total of five (une fenêtre*, le jardin*) and then for top points, take it up to ten (un tapis*, une bibliothèque*, un cable*, des coussins*, une table basse*).

You may need a dictionary at any stage of the game, but that’s what our phones are for, non*? We always recommend Word Reference but there are dozens of options for online dictionaries and apps. Or you could even use one made on an actual printing press - très original*.

If you can remember to do this even once a week, you’ll be keeping le français* swimming around your head, which is notre but*, after all.

We’ve never had so much entertainment available to us at the touch of a button and a lot of it is free, aussi*, which means there are few excuses for not watching a French series or film de temps en temps*.

Between streaming services, free-to-air on demand and French film festivals, make it your mission to watch something in French once a quarter. And of course if you decide to faire un marathon* (we can recommend The Bureau, Spiral, The Hookup Plan or Call My Agent for starters) then that counts as your annual intake. Bon visionnage*.

I’m ready to accept that French may not be your one and only true love. You may even be a well-rounded person who is able to entertain a variety of interests and activities (though why you would cheat on French like that when there is such richesse* contained in this one subject matter alone escapes me, but I digress…).

Our aim here is to ensure French stays in your life as you hit the pause button, so I’m going to suggest a bit of a commingling of intérêts* for your own benefit. Love tennis? Do a bit of research on a French tennis player, or even the home of French tennis, Roland Garros. Who was Roland Garros anyway? And why is there a Bugatti named after him? Vous voyez ce que je veux dire*?

I picked tennis at random, but there are as many pistes* to explore as you have the energy to pursue. Simone de Beauvoir, Pierre Cardin, Le Nôtre, Le Corbusier, Baudelaire, Roland Barthes, Monet, Louis Braille, Charles de Gaulle, the Lumière brothers (Alice Guy-Blaché for that matter), Inès de la Fressange, Joey Starr…la liste est longue*.

Many students tell us they speak French perfectly in their heads, it’s only when it comes time to get the words out in class that they stumble. I think we can all sympathise with that.

Recently a student told me they’d found a woman on Youtube who was able to speak several languages fluently, and one of her tricks was to talk to herself out loud in French. She’d pick an activity a day, and then describe what she was doing à voix haute*. So if she was cooking, she may say: “Je coupe les oignons*” or “Je lave les salades*”. You may be surprised at just how much you can say when in a comfortable environment. Getting used to the sound of your own voice speaking French will make it all the more likely you’ll get your words out when faced with a ‘real’ French language opportunity.

This short list is just a soupçon* of the ways you can keep French trotting along by your side, even along when other priorities in your life seem to be conspiring to tear you apart. Be sure to check in again next month for plus d’idées*.

*the nuts and bolts | *the nest | *take a break*voice | *the French | *What do you think of that?
*a chair | *some books | *a pencil | *keen | *a window | *the garden | *a rug | *a bookcase | *a cable | *some cushions | *a *coffee table | *aren’t they? | *very original |* French | *our aim
*as well | *from time to time | *binge watch | *Happy viewing
*richness | *interests | *avenues | *Do you see what I mean? | *the list goes on
*out loud | *I am washing the salad leaves
*taste | *more ideas

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