Swearing in French

 I'm off to France in a month and things are getting exciting. For the last year, I've been dutifully doing my Duolingo, which is adding to my okay French skills. I did French all through school and for a year at uni. I've always used the language, and I'm lucky because I pick up language easily. 

For something different tonight, with a friend, I went off to a Laneway Learning class, "How to Swear Properly in French with Oceane."

It was awesome on so many levels. 

Firstly, after a gin and tonic with Lynnie and her friend Em, we made our way into the glorious Nicholas Building, with its rickety lift and old Melbourne charm. We were on time, but were greeted by Madelaine the manager, as we rounded one of the buildings many corners. 

"Stick fighting or Swearing in French?" she asked us.

"Um, Swearing in French," we said back in unison. 

"Follow me," she said, thinking that stick fighting sounded pretty fun too. 

And there we were with the wonderful Oceane, a pocket rocket Parisienne with a big smile and what seemed to be unending patience (and none of the Parisian nonchalance we hear so much about). If I could just have a thimbleful of her effortless cool, it would be wonderful. 

Oceane started out by quoting a neurobiologist who went to prove that people who swear are more intelligent. I can subscribe to that. 

The 75-minute class, which cost $20 was great. There was a lot of fundamental stuff, the hellos and goodbyes and the how are yous. Things you should learn before you start blasting off at people with cuss words in a foreign language. We looked at the hierarchy of swearing in French, from the words young children can use (Zut, idiot, andouille) to the words that would make a sailor blush (putane, salope, conasse...) And we got to practice on each other, which was fun. 

Oh, and don't mix up "connard" which means arsehole, with "canard" which means duck - like the bird that goes quack. 

Of course, there was a lot of talk about semantics. How the French don't have the universal adjective of "Fucking" which has lost a lot of its punch. (i.e. "Fucking" is now, what "bloody" used to be forty years ago - you can almost use "bloody" in polite society now, so much has it softened.)

One very cool moment was when one of the crew asked about the word "cunt". In recent years, the word has taken on a life of its own. You can call a friend a cunt, and its taken on as a term of endearment. You can describe somebody as a cunt, and you know they aren't very nice. You can use the word to describe a part of the female anatomy - although it's often thought of as derogatory, depending on how it's said. Personally, I rarely use the word, it's one I keep for special occasions. 

One of the members pressed this further. No, the French don't have one of these terms. Putane is about as good as it gets. 

I questioned back about using cunt, saying, "If you're going to call somebody a cunt, you'd want them to have some warmth and depth."

Then I sat back and waited for the penny to drop. When she worked out what I'd said, my night was made - took her a minute. 

In all, this was a fun hour - I really enjoyed the camaraderie in the group and Oceane's fun way of teaching. 

We left happy, searching the Nicholas Building for the rickety lift, feeling a bit better about going to Paris in a month. On exiting, we met up with some of the stick fighters, who seemed like a fun crew. Maybe next time. Laneway Learnings have some really interesting offerings at a good price point. I hope to go back. 

So entertained and enlightened, an ice cream in hand (because the Nicholas Building is across the street from Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream and it would be rude not to partake) I caught the tram back home. 

It was worth missing book group for. 

Today's song:  This clip is worth watching for the subtitles.