Sage comme une image

As pretty as a picture or as quiet as a mouse? It depends from which side of the Atlantic you hail. What I understand this French expression to mean is that sometimes life imitates art (et non pas le contraire). So an especially tranquil child can be said to be ‘sage comme une image’. Here is a link to translations in various languages (just scroll down past the French).

This week I made an unexpected discovery, one that I found to be especially ‘sage’ (wise). The Museums of Paris have digitized and made a massive collection of art works available, free, online. These works whose rights are in the public domain offer an incredibly rich source of inspiration for blog posts, websites and more. And it’s absolutely free, so indulge!

Here’s a link to explore the collection. And a translation from the press release courtesy of Google:

This opening of data guarantees free access and reuse of all of digital files, without technical, legal or financial restrictions, for commercial use or not.

Images representing works belonging to the public domain under CCØ license (Creative Commons Zero) are made available to all internet users via the Paris Musées collections portal. Initially, reproductions of 2D works which are not subject to rights are available in Open Content, the images subjected to rights remain in low definition in order to illustrate the files of the collections website. Art lovers can for example download the works of the big names in photography (Atget, Blancard, Marville, Carjat …) or painting (Courbet, Delacroix, Rembrandt, Van Dyck …).

Paris Musées: http://www.parismusees.paris.fr/en/presse

I chose the above image to illustrate this post for fairly obvious reasons. Confinement is evocative of a bohemian life in which we lounge around, read, relax and indulge in otherwise forbidden sloth. The reality is somewhat different for us. Husband is home and we are both working, in my case sporadically and mostly on administrative and creative projects for which I normally have no time. Catching up on my accounts and looking at revamping my professional website. Husband is, as usual, glued to his calls from morning to night, taking short breaks for exercise and dog walks.

We are healthy, touch wood, and for that I am immensely grateful. Had news from a friend, in her forties and otherwise in good health. She and her husband have just passed the worst of a ‘mild’ case of COVID-19. The symptoms peaked ten days in, and included fever and muscle pain, coughing and shortness of breath. She is hoping to feel better in another few days and be clear of the virus in about a week. But if that’s how healthy, relatively young people are affected, I hate to think of what it does to those who are fragile.

So I will try and be ‘sage comme une image’ for the next days and weeks, keep my spirits up in this space and only make grocery runs when needed. I’d love to help out in some way, if only I knew how. Online or by phone? Surely even in confinement there must be ways we can reach out to those in need of moral support. Any ideas?

Hope you are all staying well. Please share your tips and tricks for staying sage!

Image credit: Jean-Louis Forain (1852-1931). Imprimerie H. Herold. “La Vie de Bohême” par Puccini, G.Ricordi & Cie Editeurs, Paris. Affiche. Lithographie couleur, vers 1895. Paris, Musée Carnavalet.

Ouistiti

Sometimes a word just makes you smile. ‘Ouistiti’ is one of them.

The first time I heard it was when my kids were little. “Ouistiti!” said the little boy who was my son’s best friend in maternelle or preschool. They both burst out in fits of giggles.

I had no idea it was actually a thing. Later I learned that a ‘ouistiti’ is a cute little monkey (much like that little boy). What we call a marmoset. Seems the name in French is inspired by the high-pitched sounds they make in the wild.

What inspires me most about these little guys, aside from their unbearable cuteness, is that they apparently listen to each other. Instead of cutting each other off midstream, they wait several seconds after each sound before making their own. Like a true conversation.

One of my pet peeves is something I have dubbed ‘interruptitis’: people who cut you off before you can finish a sentence. This is one of the many ills of modern life, as everyone seems to be convinced that they have something to say that’s more important than the other guy. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy blogging. I get to complete a thought before anyone cuts in.

I grew up in a family where interruptitis dominated the dinner table. There were four of us kids competing for attention so things often got loud. My dad was the worst offender; he was (and remains) convinced that the best way to make yourself understood is to shout down your opponent, banging your fist on the table for emphasis. Our nightly conversations quickly turned into arguments, some more vehement than others. I think for my father it was a sport. But for my mother it was tough. She hated conflict as much as our father relished it.

I suppose I have him to thank for the fact that I’m not afraid to defend my point of view. I do believe in listening, however. I think it’s important in any conversation to keep things respectful, to truly try to hear and understand other points of view.

In a world where people regularly shout each other down on social media and bully others online, maybe we should all take the example of the marmoset. Wait for a second or two to let the other person’s thought settle before cutting in with our own.

When I lose patience and want to cut someone off, on the road or in words, I will try to think about something that automatically makes me smile. Like ouistiti.

In fact, this is what French people say when taking a photo instead of ‘cheese’.

Try it: wee-stee-tee!

Are you smiling yet?

Bec et ongle

It is rare to find an exact translation of an expression from one language to another. Which is why ‘se défendre bec et ongle’ is a gift.

‘To fight tooth and nail’ for something is one of those colourful idioms that is immediately understood. When I first heard it used in French, I understood the reference and by extension that ‘bec et ongle’ translated to beak and claw, or tooth and nail.

We can thank the Latin for providing the original expression: unguibus et rostro. It is used as a motto by various organizations of the military, as pictured above, and also the city of Valence, France.

Amshudhagar [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)%5D

‘Bec’ is a funny kind of word as it refers not just to a bird’s mouth but also to the human ‘beak’. ‘Faire un bec,’ also means to give someone a kiss. It makes me think of something my Dad used to say: ‘a pow in the kisser’, describing a punch in the nose.

There’s also, ‘clouer le bec’ which means to shut someone’s trap. ‘Tomber sur le bec’, to fall flat on your face and ‘rester le bec dans l’eau’ — to be left hanging, high and dry, or in the lurch.

‘Ongle’, on the other hand, has been taken over by the modern love of nail art. I cannot think of this word without remembering my late Belle-mère, whose love of the false nail was legendary in our family. The trouble was that they were always breaking or falling off. After she visited we would find bits of them in remote corners of the house and refrigerator.

As for bec et ongle, I find it interesting that the rooster is often used to illustrate this expression. I’ve posted before about the Coq Gaulois as the symbol of France. And it’s somehow fitting: if there is a people that will fight tooth and nail for something, it is the French.

Is there anything you would you fight for, bec et ongle? Do you have a favourite idiomatic expression?

La vache!

Pity the poor cow. They give us milk and cheese, meat and leather, are the source of sustenance and prosperity. They are venerated in some cultures yet treated like so much merchandise and with a flagrant lack of humanity in others. Adding insult to injury, the word ‘cow’ is never used as a compliment.

‘La vache’ expresses surprise in French. Whether a ‘wow’ or a ‘damn’, either positive or negative. It is slang but not vulgar.

However, to say someone or something is ‘vache’ means it’s not nice. Nasty, mean, tough… Arrête d’être vache! Stop being a cow!            

To do something mean to someone is to ‘faire une vacherie’. It seems somehow unjust that the language always attributes the feminine gender to such behaviour. I’ve seen it in both men and women. Note that in French, however, it is ‘une vache’ but ‘un boeuf’.

Until recently I thought these were just different names for male and female. I did not know that milk cows (‘vache laitière’, not to be confused with ‘vache à lait’…) are a completely different subset of the bovine species from beef cattle. Ah, the ignorance of the city mouse!

However, to be really mean and horrible takes being a cow a step further.

In my early days in the French corporate world, a colleague pulled me aside and told me to watch myself around so-and-so. “Attention,” she said, “C’est une peau de vache.

“A cow skin? Whatever does that mean?” I asked. Turns out that this is worst kind of person, the one who will smile to your face and stab you in the back as soon as you’re not looking. Worse, they will go to any length to get what they want.

Yet the poor cow’s hide makes such a lovely chair!

Aside from having their name so often taken in vain, the French cow’s life is not so bad. We have many small, family-run farms where just a few cattle graze in the fields.

Perhaps this is why the most famous of French cows is always smiling. The cheesy laughing cow of course!

Do you have a favourite expression involving cows?

En bisbille

Bisbille en Terrasse by Catherine Haro

The precise origins of the French expression, être en bisbille avec quelqu’un, are mysterious. The word ‘bisbille’ apparently comes from the Italian ‘bisbiglio’ meaning to murmur or whisper. How the meaning evolved in French to mean a quarrel or difference with someone is unclear. And yet it speaks volumes: whispering behind someone’s back is exactly the kind of behaviour that starts such disputes.

What is clear to me is that this ability to pick a fight and turn petty differences into a life-long feud has strong Latin roots. I have observed such behaviour in particular in my Italian and Portuguese friends and in every set of French neighbours.

I’ve posted before about how the French are so good at ignoring those they dislike. They either literally can’t ‘see’ each other (On ne peut plus se voir) or they sulk when they do (Faire la gueule).

I love the above painting, ‘Bisbille en Terrasse’ by French artist Catherine Haro, as it perfectly captures the mood of disgruntled people on a café terrace who seem to be at odds with all of those around them.

As for me, I’ve gotten better at not picking fights and am successfully avoiding conflict with others at the moment.

Are you ‘en bisbille’ with anyone?