When in French
Love in a Second Language
(Sprache: Englisch)
A language barrier is no match for love. Lauren Collins discovered this firsthand when, in her early thirties, she moved to London and fell for a Frenchman named Olivier a surprising turn of events for someone who didn t have a passport until she was in...
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A language barrier is no match for love. Lauren Collins discovered this firsthand when, in her early thirties, she moved to London and fell for a Frenchman named Olivier a surprising turn of events for someone who didn t have a passport until she was in college. But what does it mean to love someone in a second language? Collins wonders, as her relationship with Olivier continues to grow entirely in English. Are there things she doesn t understand about Olivier, having never spoken to him in his native tongue? Does I love you even mean the same thing as je t aime ? When the couple, newly married, relocates to Francophone Geneva, Collins fearful of one day becoming "a Borat of a mother" who doesn t understand her own kids decides to answer her questions for herself by learning French. When in French is a laugh-out-loud funny and surprising memoir about the lengths we go to for love, as well as an exploration across culture and history into how we learn languages and what they say about who we are. Collins grapples with the complexities of the French language, enduring excruciating role-playing games with her classmates at a Swiss language school and accidently telling her mother-in-law that she s given birth to a coffee machine. In learning French, Collins must wrestle with the very nature of French identity and society which, it turns out, is a far cry from life back home in North Carolina. Plumbing the mysterious depths of humanity s many forms of language, Collins describes with great style and wicked humor the frustrations, embarrassments, surprises, and, finally, joys of learning and living in French.
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One The Past Perfect
Le Plus-que-parfait
I hadn t wanted to live in Geneva. In fact, I had decisively wished not to, but there I was. Plastic ficuses flanked the entryway of the building. The corrugated brown carpet matched the matte brown fretwork of the elevator cage. The ground floor hosted the offices of a psychiatrist and those of an iridologue a practitioner of a branch of alternative medicine that was popularized when, in 1861, a Hungarian physician noticed similar streaks of color in the eyeballs of a broken-legged man and a broken-legged owl. Our apartment was one story up.
The bell rang. Newlywed and nearly speechless, I cracked open the door, a slab of oak with a beveled brass knob. Next to it, the landlord had installed a nameplate, giving the place the look less of a home than of a bilingual tax firm.
A man stood on the landing. He was dressed in black T-shirt, pants, tool belt. A length of cord coiled around his left shoulder. In his right hand, he held a brush. Creosote darkened his face and arms, extending his sleeves to his fingernails and the underside of his palms. A red bandanna was tied around his neck. He actually wore a top hat. I hesitated before pushing the door open further, unsure whether I was up against a chimney sweep or some sort of Swiss strip-o-gram.
Bonjour, I said, exhausting approximately half of my French vocabulary.
The man, remaining clothed, returned my greeting and began to explain why he was there. His words, though I couldn t understand them, jogged secondhand snatches of dialogue: per cantonal law, as the landlord had explained to my husband, who had transmitted the command to me, we had to have our fireplace cleaned once a year.
I led the chimney sweep to the living room. It was dominated by the fireplace, an antique thing in dark striated marble, with pot hooks and a pair of side ducts whose covers hinged open like lockets. Shifting his weight onto one leg with surprising grace, the
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chimney sweep leaned forward and stuck his head under the mantel. He poked around for a few minutes, letting out the occasional wheeze. Coming out of the arabesque, he turned to me and began, again, to speak.
On a musical level, whatever he was saying sounded cheerful, a scale-skittering ditty of les and las. Perhaps he was admiring the condition of the damper, or welcoming me to the neighborhood. He reached into his pocket, proffering a matchbook and a disc of cork. Then he disappeared.
Minutes went by as I examined his gifts. They seemed like props for a magic trick. More minutes passed. I launched into a version of rock, scissors, paper: since the cork couldn t conceivably do anything to the matches, then the matches must be meant to light the cork. Action was required, but I feared potentially incinerating the chimney sweep, who, I guessed, was making some sort of inspection up on the roof.
Eventually he returned, chirping out some more instructions. I performed a repertoire of reassuring eyebrow raises and comprehending head nods. He scampered away. I still had no idea, so I lit a match, held it to the cork, and tossed it behind the grate. The pile started smoking and hissing. After a few seconds, I lost my nerve and snuffed it out.
The chimney sweep resurfaced, less jolly. He had appointed an assistant who, it appeared, was actively thwarting his routine. This time he spoke in the supple, obvious tones one reserves for madwomen, especially those in possession of flammable objects. Reclaiming the half-charred piece of cork, he lit a fire and, potbelly jiggling, sprinted back out the door.
Finally, he returned and reported I assume, since we used the fireplace without incident all that winter that everything was in order.
Au revoir! I said, trying to regain his
On a musical level, whatever he was saying sounded cheerful, a scale-skittering ditty of les and las. Perhaps he was admiring the condition of the damper, or welcoming me to the neighborhood. He reached into his pocket, proffering a matchbook and a disc of cork. Then he disappeared.
Minutes went by as I examined his gifts. They seemed like props for a magic trick. More minutes passed. I launched into a version of rock, scissors, paper: since the cork couldn t conceivably do anything to the matches, then the matches must be meant to light the cork. Action was required, but I feared potentially incinerating the chimney sweep, who, I guessed, was making some sort of inspection up on the roof.
Eventually he returned, chirping out some more instructions. I performed a repertoire of reassuring eyebrow raises and comprehending head nods. He scampered away. I still had no idea, so I lit a match, held it to the cork, and tossed it behind the grate. The pile started smoking and hissing. After a few seconds, I lost my nerve and snuffed it out.
The chimney sweep resurfaced, less jolly. He had appointed an assistant who, it appeared, was actively thwarting his routine. This time he spoke in the supple, obvious tones one reserves for madwomen, especially those in possession of flammable objects. Reclaiming the half-charred piece of cork, he lit a fire and, potbelly jiggling, sprinted back out the door.
Finally, he returned and reported I assume, since we used the fireplace without incident all that winter that everything was in order.
Au revoir! I said, trying to regain his
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Lauren Collins
Lauren Collins began working at The New Yorker in 2003 and became a staff writer in 2008. Her subjects have included Michelle Obama, Donatella Versace, the graffiti artist Banksy, and the chef April Bloomfield. Since 2010, she has been based in Europe, covering stories from London, Paris, Copenhagen, and beyond.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Lauren Collins
- 2017, 256 Seiten, Masse: 13,9 x 20,9 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: PENGUIN BOOKS
- ISBN-10: 014311073X
- ISBN-13: 9780143110736
- Erscheinungsdatum: 01.11.2017
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
New Yorker staff writer Lauren Collins s terrific memoir, When in French: Love in a Second Language, depicts bilingual romance with fresh asperity: What was an expat but an immigrant who drinks at lunch? . Vogue.com A thoughtful, beautifully written meditation on the art of language and intimacy. The book unfolds like several books in one: on moving abroad, on communication in human relationships, on the history of language, and in the end, on the delights of cross-cultural fusion. The New York Times Book Review
An ambitious and entertaining meditation on the ways in which love and language make us who we are [Collins] weaves together personal, historical, and sociological anecdotes with ease, roving nimbly between awkward interfamilial interactions, neo-Whorfian theory, the comically tortured inner workings of the Académie française, and far beyond Collins writing is endlessly, delightfully rich. She s mastered love in her second language and crafted a masterpiece in her first. Surely you ll fall for this book too. Buzzfeed
[The book] takes off when Collins throws herself into language classes and funny Franglish conversations with her in-laws. She takes an amusing side trip to L Academie Française, France s language police, to watch a committee try to come up with a substitute for the invasive English expression business as usual. Gradually, fitfully, it all comes together. Minneapolis Star Tribune
[An] engaging and surprisingly meaty memoir When in French ranges from the humorously personal to a deeper look at various theories of language acquisition and linguistics There s far more to Collins book than screwball comedy, and those who have weathered linguistic crossings themselves are apt to find particular resonance in its substantive inquiry into language, identity, and transcultural translation. NPR.org
Collins offers up her own love affair as a case study, applying the tools of the social sciences to
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her life, and offering, along the way, a primer on linguistics and semantics and a cultural history of language. But if that makes When in French sound boring or academic, I ve given you the wrong impression: Collins s memoir is anything but dull. She s analytical, but never clinical, with a reporter s keen ear for nuance, and her curiosity about words the meaning beneath their meaning is infectious. Vogue
Collins memoir, frequently funny, overflows with ideas about culture and communication. Newsday
This gorgeous, finely woven memoir explores the gaps between words and worlds. Refinery29
We can't all fall in love with a dashing Frenchman and move to France, but that's what Lauren Collins found herself doing when she met Olivier. This delightful memoir explores the New Yorker staff writer's experience learning the French language and the culture and people besides. Elle.com
In her emotional, erudite memoir [Collins] documents her linguistic labors, including the missteps she accidentally tells her mother-in-law she gave birth to a coffeemaker on the road to mastery. At times she expounds on the history and philosophy of language; at others, it feels like catching up with a clever friend you haven t seen since college. But the most intriguing question posed is as much about identity as language: Are you someone else when you speak and live in a non-native tongue? TIME
A collection of musings on translation, linguistics, and cultural identity, all underpinned by a satisfying love story Collins s is the best kind of memoir: the kind that uses the author s own experience as an entryway to and a bridge between a number of universal topics. Brooklyn Rail
Part memoir, part cultural exploration, this heartwarming read will appeal to romantics and lovers of language alike. RealSimple.com
Woven into Collins s poignant and often laugh-out-loud funny personal story of trial and erreur is a primer on pop linguistics, with meditations on whether the language we speak affects the way we think and feel. Departures
An exceptionally insightful meditation on how language informs culture and personality. It s a lovely read that gets better the more you sit with it. Jason Zinoman, The New York Times
[A] wry memoir [Collins] unearths other tidbits of trivia and history that will fascinate lovers of words and language The heart of the book lies in Collins personal story, which she tells with humor, humility and a deep affection for the people and cultures involved. Whether she s describing the grinding exhaustion of learning a foreign language or the euphoria of a breakthrough, her determination makes the reader root for her. When in French is both an entertaining fish-out-of-water story and a wise and insightful look at the way two very different people and families manage to find common ground. BookPage
Cleverly organized, well-written As the memoir unfolds, Collins does not spare herself, sharing her apprehensions and her missteps with candor and frequently with humor Filled with pleasing passages in every chapter. Kirkus
[A] smart memoir on how the languages we speak shape who we are [Collins s] writing is elegant and exact. Publishers Weekly
A memoir of the New Yorker writer s experience falling in love with a French banker and winding up in Geneva, recounted in [Collins s] distinctive and deeply intelligent mix of insight and humor.
Thomas Chatterton Williams, The Nation s What to Read This Summer
A linguistic love story Lauren Collins captures the thrilling vertigo of trying to be yourself in a foreign language. She s an expert storyteller and an excellent traveling companion. Pamela Druckerman, author of Bringing Up Bébé: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting
Lauren Collins is one of the smartest, most humane, most charming writers I know. Nobody is more observant of fine details, or more curious about the big picture. In When in French, we finally see her mad skills and effortless touch on display in a book-length memoir a love story about a person, a language, and a whole form of cultural knowledge. Collins makes the world seem like a bigger, more effervescent, more intoxicating place. Elif Batuman, author of The Possessed: Adventures with Russian Books and the People Who Read Them
As a (sadly) monolingual American, I devoured Lauren Collins s sharp, funny tale of bilingual romance and learning to speak French. Part acerbic love letter to that language and part meditation on language itself, When in French is so charming it made me want to learn French too. Adelle Waldman, author of The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P.: A Novel
That anyone can actually communicate with anyone is a miracle. When in French is a hilarious and intelligent book that delves into the history of language, falling in love, and by the way includes words like Ribuy-tibuy. Gumusservi. Komorebi and Schnapsidee. Maira Kalman, author and illustrator of Beloved Dog and The Principles of Uncertainty
Collins memoir, frequently funny, overflows with ideas about culture and communication. Newsday
This gorgeous, finely woven memoir explores the gaps between words and worlds. Refinery29
We can't all fall in love with a dashing Frenchman and move to France, but that's what Lauren Collins found herself doing when she met Olivier. This delightful memoir explores the New Yorker staff writer's experience learning the French language and the culture and people besides. Elle.com
In her emotional, erudite memoir [Collins] documents her linguistic labors, including the missteps she accidentally tells her mother-in-law she gave birth to a coffeemaker on the road to mastery. At times she expounds on the history and philosophy of language; at others, it feels like catching up with a clever friend you haven t seen since college. But the most intriguing question posed is as much about identity as language: Are you someone else when you speak and live in a non-native tongue? TIME
A collection of musings on translation, linguistics, and cultural identity, all underpinned by a satisfying love story Collins s is the best kind of memoir: the kind that uses the author s own experience as an entryway to and a bridge between a number of universal topics. Brooklyn Rail
Part memoir, part cultural exploration, this heartwarming read will appeal to romantics and lovers of language alike. RealSimple.com
Woven into Collins s poignant and often laugh-out-loud funny personal story of trial and erreur is a primer on pop linguistics, with meditations on whether the language we speak affects the way we think and feel. Departures
An exceptionally insightful meditation on how language informs culture and personality. It s a lovely read that gets better the more you sit with it. Jason Zinoman, The New York Times
[A] wry memoir [Collins] unearths other tidbits of trivia and history that will fascinate lovers of words and language The heart of the book lies in Collins personal story, which she tells with humor, humility and a deep affection for the people and cultures involved. Whether she s describing the grinding exhaustion of learning a foreign language or the euphoria of a breakthrough, her determination makes the reader root for her. When in French is both an entertaining fish-out-of-water story and a wise and insightful look at the way two very different people and families manage to find common ground. BookPage
Cleverly organized, well-written As the memoir unfolds, Collins does not spare herself, sharing her apprehensions and her missteps with candor and frequently with humor Filled with pleasing passages in every chapter. Kirkus
[A] smart memoir on how the languages we speak shape who we are [Collins s] writing is elegant and exact. Publishers Weekly
A memoir of the New Yorker writer s experience falling in love with a French banker and winding up in Geneva, recounted in [Collins s] distinctive and deeply intelligent mix of insight and humor.
Thomas Chatterton Williams, The Nation s What to Read This Summer
A linguistic love story Lauren Collins captures the thrilling vertigo of trying to be yourself in a foreign language. She s an expert storyteller and an excellent traveling companion. Pamela Druckerman, author of Bringing Up Bébé: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting
Lauren Collins is one of the smartest, most humane, most charming writers I know. Nobody is more observant of fine details, or more curious about the big picture. In When in French, we finally see her mad skills and effortless touch on display in a book-length memoir a love story about a person, a language, and a whole form of cultural knowledge. Collins makes the world seem like a bigger, more effervescent, more intoxicating place. Elif Batuman, author of The Possessed: Adventures with Russian Books and the People Who Read Them
As a (sadly) monolingual American, I devoured Lauren Collins s sharp, funny tale of bilingual romance and learning to speak French. Part acerbic love letter to that language and part meditation on language itself, When in French is so charming it made me want to learn French too. Adelle Waldman, author of The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P.: A Novel
That anyone can actually communicate with anyone is a miracle. When in French is a hilarious and intelligent book that delves into the history of language, falling in love, and by the way includes words like Ribuy-tibuy. Gumusservi. Komorebi and Schnapsidee. Maira Kalman, author and illustrator of Beloved Dog and The Principles of Uncertainty
... weniger
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