Well, actually I know I'm a masochist, I mean I ride a bike right?
Not satisfied to subject myself to physical torture, it seems I must balance it out with mental anguish as well.
See a while back I was thinking about my French language skills or lack there of. I mean I took two years worth, and most of it went in one side and out the other.
My head I mean.
Without stopping.
So I got the bright idea that I should start reading some stuff in French. I can read it and talk it okay, I just don't know what the hell I'm saying.
Luckily, I'm prepared:
That's right, I got like five French-English dictionaries. Six actually, I think there's one more out in the garage.
I'm ready for some French bear!
Not to be confused with French Babar, who is an elephant in a green suit:
So off to Amazon I go, looking for something interesting to read.
Bon soir! what have I found here?
It seems they make these books with parallel texts, one side is in English, the other side in French.
Way cool!
This has got to be the best thing since, like spoked wheels!
Wrong!
I mean Faux!
First of all, I ordered me a book of short stories by a dude named Guy de Maupassant:
He is a pretty famous French writer person who sort of lived large and burnt out fast.
Sort of like me, back in another life I mean.
You can read more about him here.
So anyways, this book comes in the mail and I get all excited cause I'm gonna read some French and oh boy!
Big mistake!
I mean grande erreur!
First of all, this dude can write.
What I mean is, this ain't no children's book:
de Maupassant is no Dr. Seuss.
Or is that the other way around?
Well, you get the idea.
Going back and forth between pages, it takes me like a half hour to read one page!
Okay, not really.
It feels like it though.
I mean I'm halfway through the page and I forget what the hell I'm reading about.
Boy, my French skills aren't just elementary, it's more like kindergarten!
I mean jardin d'enfants.
So I'm like three pages into the first story and I'm thinking man, this ain't happening.
It's going way too slow.
So I cheat.
I read only the English side of the book and it turns out the story was great! It sort of had a French ending, if you know what I mean.
Now, I'm thinking okay! I'll go back and reread the French side.
Only now, I know what happens and there goes my motivation.
I should've seen that one coming.
So now I'm thinking I need some help.
Thankfully, I work at a school with a pretty good French teacher. Mainly it seems I've forgotten how to pronounce certain conjugations of them Frenchy verbs.
Don't laugh, if you look at the image above, you'll see a dictionary that contains, that's right! only verbs!
I'm telling you, what were the French thinking when they invented this language?
How the Tour de France got famous I'll never know cause it seems like they all talk in some kind of code.
Actually, reading this book is sort of helping me remember.
Helping me remember that I only know like five French words.
It's times like this when I wish I had taken Italian.
3 comments:
Bon chance!
I live in a place that thinks it's French and there are a lot of French speakers here. At least they think they are. I am told by real French speakers that what they speak here only resembles French. I am not even going to attempt it but instead will continue to try an improve my mediocre Spanish.
When my bride and I first went o Mexico on the boat I strutted into a little fishing village and ask an old man for directions to a tortilla factory. What I got was directions to a brothel where I might find the lesbian I was looking for. Then in perfect English that ignorant old man directed me to the tortilla factory explaining while he did so how I had gone wrong.
Embarrassing.
JRA, thanks, I'll need it. At this rate, I'll get through the first story sometime around Christmas.
Oldfool, I was thinking of taking Spanish, but thankfully most Mexican restaurant menus are in English. If I ever get to France, I'll probably break some kind of arms treaty asking directions to the L'oeuvre.
I was working on it again last night and part of the challenge is making it through phrases that only a native speaker would understand; things don't always translate directly, if you know what I mean.
Reading this stuff is reminiscent of old folks on folding bikes passing me going up hills.
Post a Comment