Busy weekend. Some neighbors have invited us over this afternoon (Saturday) for dessert, café, and un petit pousse-café. Other neighbors will be there too, I think, including the one who has had her run-ins with Bertie. I haven't see her in a while so it will be interesting to hear her take on the situation now.
Do you know what a pousse-café is? It's an after-dinner drink, either an eau de vie (brandy) or a liqueur. That kind of drink is also called un digestif — the alcohol supposedly helps your digestive system deal with all the food you ate at lunch.
Tomorrow we are going to drive down to Preuilly-sur-Claise, an hour south of Saint-Aignan, to attend an Australian flood party chez Susan and Simon of Days on the Claise. They are going to pop open a bottle of sparkling Vouvray, the local bubbly wine, to celebrate the end of the flooding in Queensland, where they used to live, near Brisbane.
The party starts at 9:00 in the morning! If you read Susan and Simon's blog, you know about it, but I'll tell you anyway. Last year, an Australian family came to visit Saint-Aignan, Preuilly, and the Loire Valley. They are a couple with grown children, and two of the children were traveling with them.
The daughter is Kirstie (her blog is Thirsty Kirstie — she works as a sommelier) and her partner is Michael (he's a cook). They live west of Brisbane too, and they suffered significant damage and the fright of their lives during the recent floods down there. Kirstie has declared the month of January null and void, and is having a Happy New Year party in Australia tomorrow at 6:00 p.m. Queensland time.
So you see, that's 9:00 a.m. in France. Susan and Simon have organized a simultaneous party in Preuilly-sur-Claise. I'm not sure how many people will be there, but it should be fun. (All our best to Kirstie and Michael.)
The weather is pretty cold — below freezing this morning — but there's no snow or ice that I've heard of. The bread lady said the roads are dry. It's actually supposed to be sunny in Saint-Aignan for the next few days.
29 January 2011
28 January 2011
English vs. French nasal vowels
So you know how many nasal vowels there are in French?
But first, do you understand what a nasal vowel is? The American Heritage Dictionary defines the linguistic term “nasal” as meaning:
In English, nasalization is not meaningul, because you have no option. You can't say “ran” without using a nasal A vowel. How do I know that? Well, hold your nose — pinch your nostrils together — and pronounce the word “rat”. No problem, right. Sounds fine. Now pinch your nostrils together and try to pronounce “ran”. It's not the same, is it?
No other word in English is pronounced exactly the same as “ran” except for the nasal vowel. In other words, there is no word like “ran” where the A is not nasalized. The nasalized A is real and required, but it's not linguistically meaningful.
Many other words, however, are pronounced exactly like “ran” except for the first consonant — the words “ran”, “pan”, “fan”, and “tan”, for example. In linguistics, that proves that the R, P, F, and T sounds are meaningful. The meaning of a word ending in “-an” changes when you change the initial consonant.
The final N is also significant, because if you replace it with a T, an M, a P, or a Z, you get a different set of words, with different meanings. Words like “ran” and “rat” are called “minimal pairs” because a single sound, be it a vowel or a consonant, differentiates them and gives each word its particular meaning.
Will you be surprised when I tell you that French is just the opposite of English when it comes to nasal vowels? In French, nasalization is significant and meaningful. You probably know that intuitively, if you have learned some French. There are pairs (of words) that are distinguished solely by the presence or absence of a nasal vowel. I'm talking about pronunciation, not spelling.
Here's a minimal pair in French: beau and bon. If you say [bo] without nasalizing the vowel, it's beau (beautiful). If you say [bö], using a nasal vowel, it's bon (good). Notice that the N of bon is not pronounced at all. I'm using [ö] to represent the nasalized O.
In southern France, sometimes it sounds as if there is a hard G sound, pronounced very slightly, at the end of a word like bon. It's almost “bong”. But that G is not a meaningful sound. It's automatic. There is no minimal pair where the word pronounced without that hard G would be a different word from one pronounced with the G.
That's easy, right? Here's the kicker. In French, the vowel immediately preceding a nasal consonant — [n] or [m] — is never nasalized. So the pronunciation of the feminine form of bon is bonne, and it does not included a nasalized O. It sounds almost like “bun” in English, but the vowel is not nasal. All the nasalization is in the N, and the O is not “contaminated.”
I know, that's getting a little abstract. It takes some practice if English is your native language. And gives you an accent if you pronounce it wrong. Maybe it's impossible for a native speaker of English to pronounce it perfectly.
So how many nasal vowels are there in French? Some might say there are four, but really, there are just three that are meaningful in contemporary French (as spoken in France). One, the nasalized U of un has merged with another, the nasalized vowel of, for example, the prefix in-. Un père (a father) and impair (meaning odd, not even) are pronounced pretty much the same — [ëper]. There is no nasalized I vowel in the French spoken in France.
The meaningful nasal vowels in French French are [ë] as in bain (bath), [ä] as in banc (bench), and [ö] as in bon (good). You have to be able to distinguish those three sounds from each other when you listen to or speak French. Bon and banc are a minimal pair. So are bain and banc, and bon and bain.
Here are some other sets of words that can make minimal pairs:
A lot of the time, context will make the difference in meaning between two different words clear, even if the vowels are not differentiated distinctly. You probably wouldn't mix up pain (bread), paon (peacock), and pont (bridge) in a given context. Or mix up anybody listening to you if you pronounced one of them wrong.
But you might have trouble with lent (slow) and long (long) if you weren't careful. Is the train [lä] or [lö]? Are you talking about [të], [tä], or [tö] — thyme, time, or color? You wouldn't want to confuse wine [vë] with wind [vä], would you?
But first, do you understand what a nasal vowel is? The American Heritage Dictionary defines the linguistic term “nasal” as meaning:
“Articulated by lowering the soft palate so that air resonates in the nasal cavities and passes out the nose, as in the pronunciation of the nasal consonants [m], [n], and [ng] or the nasalized vowel of French bon.”English is full of nasal vowels. Every vowel that occurs in the same syllable with a nasal consonant — [m], [n], and [ng], as the AHD says — ends up being nasalized. It's the nature of English phonetics. The nasalization of the vowel is “conditioned” by its phonetic position — in other words, it's automatic.
In English, nasalization is not meaningul, because you have no option. You can't say “ran” without using a nasal A vowel. How do I know that? Well, hold your nose — pinch your nostrils together — and pronounce the word “rat”. No problem, right. Sounds fine. Now pinch your nostrils together and try to pronounce “ran”. It's not the same, is it?
No other word in English is pronounced exactly the same as “ran” except for the nasal vowel. In other words, there is no word like “ran” where the A is not nasalized. The nasalized A is real and required, but it's not linguistically meaningful.
Many other words, however, are pronounced exactly like “ran” except for the first consonant — the words “ran”, “pan”, “fan”, and “tan”, for example. In linguistics, that proves that the R, P, F, and T sounds are meaningful. The meaning of a word ending in “-an” changes when you change the initial consonant.
The final N is also significant, because if you replace it with a T, an M, a P, or a Z, you get a different set of words, with different meanings. Words like “ran” and “rat” are called “minimal pairs” because a single sound, be it a vowel or a consonant, differentiates them and gives each word its particular meaning.
Will you be surprised when I tell you that French is just the opposite of English when it comes to nasal vowels? In French, nasalization is significant and meaningful. You probably know that intuitively, if you have learned some French. There are pairs (of words) that are distinguished solely by the presence or absence of a nasal vowel. I'm talking about pronunciation, not spelling.
Here's a minimal pair in French: beau and bon. If you say [bo] without nasalizing the vowel, it's beau (beautiful). If you say [bö], using a nasal vowel, it's bon (good). Notice that the N of bon is not pronounced at all. I'm using [ö] to represent the nasalized O.
In southern France, sometimes it sounds as if there is a hard G sound, pronounced very slightly, at the end of a word like bon. It's almost “bong”. But that G is not a meaningful sound. It's automatic. There is no minimal pair where the word pronounced without that hard G would be a different word from one pronounced with the G.
That's easy, right? Here's the kicker. In French, the vowel immediately preceding a nasal consonant — [n] or [m] — is never nasalized. So the pronunciation of the feminine form of bon is bonne, and it does not included a nasalized O. It sounds almost like “bun” in English, but the vowel is not nasal. All the nasalization is in the N, and the O is not “contaminated.”
I know, that's getting a little abstract. It takes some practice if English is your native language. And gives you an accent if you pronounce it wrong. Maybe it's impossible for a native speaker of English to pronounce it perfectly.
So how many nasal vowels are there in French? Some might say there are four, but really, there are just three that are meaningful in contemporary French (as spoken in France). One, the nasalized U of un has merged with another, the nasalized vowel of, for example, the prefix in-. Un père (a father) and impair (meaning odd, not even) are pronounced pretty much the same — [ëper]. There is no nasalized I vowel in the French spoken in France.
The meaningful nasal vowels in French French are [ë] as in bain (bath), [ä] as in banc (bench), and [ö] as in bon (good). You have to be able to distinguish those three sounds from each other when you listen to or speak French. Bon and banc are a minimal pair. So are bain and banc, and bon and bain.
Here are some other sets of words that can make minimal pairs:
- thym [të] — temps [tä] — ton [tö]
- pain [pë] — paon [pä] — pont [pö]
- lin [lë] — lent [lä] — long [lö]
- saint [së] — sans [sä] — sont [sö]
- vin [vë] — vent [vä] —vont [vö]
A lot of the time, context will make the difference in meaning between two different words clear, even if the vowels are not differentiated distinctly. You probably wouldn't mix up pain (bread), paon (peacock), and pont (bridge) in a given context. Or mix up anybody listening to you if you pronounced one of them wrong.
But you might have trouble with lent (slow) and long (long) if you weren't careful. Is the train [lä] or [lö]? Are you talking about [të], [tä], or [tö] — thyme, time, or color? You wouldn't want to confuse wine [vë] with wind [vä], would you?
27 January 2011
King Henri IV's early childhood
I'm just starting to read French centrist politician François Bayrou's book about the French king Henri IV, who reigned from 1589 until 1610. In that year, he was assassinated in Paris by an apparently unbalanced religious fanatic. Bayrou's book is called Henri IV, le roi libre and was published in 1994.
François Bayrou was a presidential candidate in France in 2007. He has an advanced degree, the agrégation, in classical literature from the Université de Bordeaux and was a teacher until he was named Ministre de l'Education Nationale in 1993 and went into politics.
King Henri IV de France was the Protestant figure who was famous, according to legend, for saying « Paris vaut bien une messe » — Paris is well worth a mass — when he decided, for political reasons, to embrace Catholicism as king. Henri was by heredity the king of Navarre, a small, contested territory straddling the Pyrenees mountains between France and Spain.
Henri de Navarre was formally recognized as the legitimate king of France in 1589 by heirless French King Henri III, his brother-in-law and cousin, who was on his deathbed after suffering wounds inflicted upon him by a fanatical assassin. The new king had to convince the majority Catholics to give him their allegiance, so he renounced Protestantism.
He came to the throne at the end of the religious wars between French Catholics and Protestants. In 1598 Henri signed the Edict of Nantes, giving Protestants the legal right to practice their religion in France. He was also the king who said, again according to legend, that his goal was to make sure that every French family had « une poule au pot » — a “chicken in the pot,” or a stewed chicken — for dinner every Sunday.
Henri IV was born in the city of Pau in the Pyrenees on December 13, 1553. According to Bayrou, little Henri had a typical early childhood for the times. That involved being tied up and strapped into his cradle for the first year or more of his life.
Here's what François Bayrou writes, in my translation:
By the way, the pronunciation of François Bayrou's family name is the subject of controversy in France. Many journalists and politicians pronounce it as [bay-ROO], more or less the way it is spelled. Bayrou himself doesn't appear to like that pronunciation. I've seen him correct people during interviews on television, instructing them to pronounce his name this way: [by-ROO].
And again by the way, the name of the southwestern French port city of Bayonne is pronounced as [by-YUN] in France, not [bay-own] as in New Jersey.
François Bayrou was a presidential candidate in France in 2007. He has an advanced degree, the agrégation, in classical literature from the Université de Bordeaux and was a teacher until he was named Ministre de l'Education Nationale in 1993 and went into politics.
King Henri IV de France was the Protestant figure who was famous, according to legend, for saying « Paris vaut bien une messe » — Paris is well worth a mass — when he decided, for political reasons, to embrace Catholicism as king. Henri was by heredity the king of Navarre, a small, contested territory straddling the Pyrenees mountains between France and Spain.
Henri de Navarre was formally recognized as the legitimate king of France in 1589 by heirless French King Henri III, his brother-in-law and cousin, who was on his deathbed after suffering wounds inflicted upon him by a fanatical assassin. The new king had to convince the majority Catholics to give him their allegiance, so he renounced Protestantism.
He came to the throne at the end of the religious wars between French Catholics and Protestants. In 1598 Henri signed the Edict of Nantes, giving Protestants the legal right to practice their religion in France. He was also the king who said, again according to legend, that his goal was to make sure that every French family had « une poule au pot » — a “chicken in the pot,” or a stewed chicken — for dinner every Sunday.
Henri IV was born in the city of Pau in the Pyrenees on December 13, 1553. According to Bayrou, little Henri had a typical early childhood for the times. That involved being tied up and strapped into his cradle for the first year or more of his life.
Here's what François Bayrou writes, in my translation:
In the late 1500s, newborn babies were wrapped, strapped, and bound, almost like mummies, because parents thought that was good for the baby. Immobilizing babies in that way was common practice for at least two centuries, and in the Pyrenees countryside it was the accepted practice as late as the 19th century. It was the philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau and his book Emile, ou de l'Education [1762] that first got people to theorizing about the benefits of allowing their newborn babies' limbs to move around freely.I had no idea that those were the prevailing child-rearing practices at the end of the French Renaissance. Did you? Here's the passage in French:
Until then, people thought that for a baby to grow up straight, tall, and well-proportioned, it was best to “shape” its body by binding its legs together and strapping its arms to the sides of its torso with cloth bandages. No limb movement was permitted during the child's first year, and for added security the baby was strapped into its cradle.
Wrapping the baby up like a little mummy in this way took considerable time and effort, so babies were not frequently changed — usually just once a day. People believed that the body's natural filth was protective, and that urine had its beneficial effects. It was also not recommended to clean the scabs that formed on the baby's skull, because the soft spot (the fontanel) might be damaged.
And to make sure the baby's nails grew strong, it was recommended that they not be cut before the age of 18 months or even two years. If the baby got lice, people were careful to make sure a few stayed on the baby's body after delousing, because lice were believed to "eat bad blood."
By the way, the pronunciation of François Bayrou's family name is the subject of controversy in France. Many journalists and politicians pronounce it as [bay-ROO], more or less the way it is spelled. Bayrou himself doesn't appear to like that pronunciation. I've seen him correct people during interviews on television, instructing them to pronounce his name this way: [by-ROO].
And again by the way, the name of the southwestern French port city of Bayonne is pronounced as [by-YUN] in France, not [bay-own] as in New Jersey.
26 January 2011
Comment prononce-t-on ce mot-là ?
A few days ago, after I posted my long explanation about the pronunciation of the word « grenouille » — “frog” in French — a friend named Carolyn sent me a link to a site where you can hear the pronunciation of words and expressions in many different languages. Carolyn leaves comments on this blog and on others I read, and she and her husband have visited us here in Saint-Aignan a couple of times.
Here's a link to www.forvo.com that takes you to the pronunciation of the term « la grenouille » in French. In the search box, you can type in any word or expression you want and see if somebody has contributed a pronunciation. Click on the little blue arrow to hear the recording.
I've listened to quite a few of them and the pronunciations sound good to my ear. Some recordings are better than others, with less hum or buzz or static. I especially like the recordings of French words done by the contributor called spl0uf, who seems also to be an editor on the Forvo site.
Here's a link to the Forvo pronunciations for the term
« bouilloire », which means “kettle” and for which English speakers might need pronunciation help. It's just an example. The contributor I like, and who is a native speaker from France, pronounces it as I know it, and a contributor from the United Kingdom gives a passable pronunciation too.
Here's another example, for the pronunciation of the town named Loches, which I have blogged about before. Loches is a nice town about 20 miles southeast of Saint-Aignan — we go there regularly on shopping expeditions.
Another friend, Cheryl, asked me why I didn't just post an audio pronunciation of words like grenouille, nouille, douille, fouille, mouille, houille, ouille, and so forth, on my blog. There are two reasons: first, Blogger doesn't host audio files. It will take video files, but the process of preparing them for posting is pretty time-consuming, in my experience. Maybe I don't have the right software or understand the process entirely.
The second reason is the fact that I'm not a native speaker. My pronunciation is good, but it's better to base your pronunciation on samples recorded by native speakers of French. In my experience, there's nothing like having an intuitive understanding of a language, having grown up with it and learned it from your mother and father.
Also, pay attention to the country the speaker comes from. I just listened to a pronunciation of the adjective « grenobloise » — “of Grenoble” (the French city) — and it doesn't sound like the pronunciation I hear in France. The E vowel is wrong, to my ear, but the pronunciation is certainly understandable.
Take a look, or a listen, on www.forvo.com (this one takes you to the town named Reims) when you want to be sure how a word is pronounced, in French or other languages.
Here's a link to www.forvo.com that takes you to the pronunciation of the term « la grenouille » in French. In the search box, you can type in any word or expression you want and see if somebody has contributed a pronunciation. Click on the little blue arrow to hear the recording.
I've listened to quite a few of them and the pronunciations sound good to my ear. Some recordings are better than others, with less hum or buzz or static. I especially like the recordings of French words done by the contributor called spl0uf, who seems also to be an editor on the Forvo site.
Here's a link to the Forvo pronunciations for the term
« bouilloire », which means “kettle” and for which English speakers might need pronunciation help. It's just an example. The contributor I like, and who is a native speaker from France, pronounces it as I know it, and a contributor from the United Kingdom gives a passable pronunciation too.
Here's another example, for the pronunciation of the town named Loches, which I have blogged about before. Loches is a nice town about 20 miles southeast of Saint-Aignan — we go there regularly on shopping expeditions.
Another friend, Cheryl, asked me why I didn't just post an audio pronunciation of words like grenouille, nouille, douille, fouille, mouille, houille, ouille, and so forth, on my blog. There are two reasons: first, Blogger doesn't host audio files. It will take video files, but the process of preparing them for posting is pretty time-consuming, in my experience. Maybe I don't have the right software or understand the process entirely.
The second reason is the fact that I'm not a native speaker. My pronunciation is good, but it's better to base your pronunciation on samples recorded by native speakers of French. In my experience, there's nothing like having an intuitive understanding of a language, having grown up with it and learned it from your mother and father.
Also, pay attention to the country the speaker comes from. I just listened to a pronunciation of the adjective « grenobloise » — “of Grenoble” (the French city) — and it doesn't sound like the pronunciation I hear in France. The E vowel is wrong, to my ear, but the pronunciation is certainly understandable.
Take a look, or a listen, on www.forvo.com (this one takes you to the town named Reims) when you want to be sure how a word is pronounced, in French or other languages.
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