C'est le printemps – ou, au moins, c'est le printemps pour un jour. Presque vingt degrés : l’air est doux. Depuis hier matin, il y avait un défilé ininterrompu vers le parc; au bord du lac ils ont étalé leurs couvertures; révélé leurs guitares et leurs tambours; laissé leurs chiens s’ébattre dans la boue du lac et offrir leurs balles de tennis mouillées, avec un regard plein d’espoir, à l’étranger assis sur un banc.
Hier l'après-midi, dans les cafés sur St.-Denis, la couleur était explosive et beaucoup de peau était dévoilée. Le soir, le temps était un peu plus froid, mais dans les restos et les cafés les gens mangeaient et parlaient et fumaient librement dehors, vêtus de manteaux.
Ce matin, il y avait un baptême. Après,à la porte de la cathédrale, la <prêtresse> a dit au père du bébé (qui avait une robe blanc et extrêmement délicate) <aura-t-elle assez chaude?> Il a dit <Bien sûr ! C'est une petite canadienne !>
It's spring -, or, at least, spring for a day. Nearly 20 degrees C.: the air is balmy. Since yesterday morning there's been a steady stream toward the park; on the edge of the lake they've spread their blankets, taken out their guitars and drums, let their dogs romp about in the mud of the lake and offer their wet tennis balls, with a hopeful look, to the stranger seated on a bench.
Yesterday afternoon, in the cafés on St. Denis, color was explosive and a lot of skin was exposed. In the evening, the weather was a little colder, but in the restaurants and cafes the people ate and talked and smoked freely outdoors -- wearing their coats.
This morning, there was a baptism. Afterwards, at the door of the cathedral, the priest (a woman) said to the father of the baby (who had a thin white dress), "Will she be warm enough?"
"Of course!" he said. "She is a Canadian baby!"
Merci à Martine, qui a m'aidé! (In the interest of honesty, you can read my draft, including mistakes, below the fold.)
C'est le printemps – ou, au moins, c'est le printemps pour un jour. Prèsque vingt degrés : l’air est doux. Depuis dernier matin, il y avait un défile ininterrompu vers le parc; au bord du lac ils ont étalé leurs couvertures; révelé leurs guitares et leurs tambours; laissé leurs chiens s’ébattre dans la boue du lac et offrir leurs balles du tennis mouillés, avec un regard plein d’espoir, à l’étranger sur le prochain banc.
Dernier l'après-midi, dans les cafés au St.-Denis, la couleur était explosive et beaucoup de peau était dévoilé. Le soir, le temps était un peu plus froid, mais dans les restos et les cafés les gens mangaient et parlaient et fumaient librement dehors, portaient leurs manteaux.
Ce matin, il y avait un baptême. Après,à la porte du cathédrale, la prêtresse a dit au père du bébé (qui a eu une robe blanc et extrêmement fine) <serait-elle assez chaude?> Il a dit <Bien sûr ! Elle est un enfant canadien !>
I admire this. Deeply.
You inspire me, Beth.
Posted by: St Antonym | April 03, 2006 at 09:39 PM
Hey that's so cool! All these languages around the world... so little time to learn them all...
Posted by: butuki | April 03, 2006 at 10:33 PM
J'aime beaucoup votre écriture =) Et merci pour les deux versions francaises (mon c-cédille alt+0231 est mapped à "page up" ... désolée...) parce que j'écris plutôt comme vous et cela m'aide à mieux comprendre le sens de le francais parlé et écrit.
Vous les appelez des 'prêtresses' au Canada? Ici aux Etats-Unis, c'est un vrai faux pas d'appeler un prêtre qui est femme "prêtresse" ... et c'est seulement les ultra-conservatifs qui s'en sert ... dans un facon très négatif, bien sûr...
Posted by: andrea | April 04, 2006 at 12:54 AM
Wow Beth how impressive, puts my pitiful high-school French (how long ago!) to shame! And I'm shocked that you had 20C there - we haven't had that in Vancouver yet. C'est le printemps!
Posted by: Marja-Leena | April 04, 2006 at 02:10 AM
What a lovely idea this is - to honour your new part-time home by beginning a practice of thinking and writing, exercising such an important part of yourself, in French. Your French will grow, I think, as you mould it to lyricism and metaphor, as well as to the everyday. And your writing will grow as you internalise the rhythms and allusions of French. What a wonderful prospect!
Mais ca me fait tellement chier que meme a Montreal il a fait 20 degres, pendant que nous a Londres avons toujours froid!
Posted by: Jean | April 04, 2006 at 05:06 AM
Wait - you're telling me that if I come to Montreal, not only will i not understand the language, I won't be able to read the damn thermometer?!
Posted by: Dave | April 04, 2006 at 07:41 AM
St. Antonym, Butuki, Jean, Marja-Leena, Andrea - thanks for your encouragement! I am embarrassed about my French, which is good enough to allow me to communicate basic needs and concepts, and to read, but not good enough to allow much subtlety in self-expression. I'm also really slow, which is pointed out to me over and over again by my facility and speed in English. I had a good background, but that was 30 years ago. Now that my book is done one of my goals is to spend part of every day on language practice. I find I learn a lot when I try to write, so that is going to be part of the plan - and, as with conversational French, I think you just have to leap in and not worry about making mistakes. The French-speakers I know have been so kind and so helpful, it makes it much easier.
Andrea - merci! Il n'y a pas de mot en francais pour un prêtre qui est une femme! C'est la raison pour "prêtresse" en guillemets. Mais vous avez raison - c'est un faux pas. Anyone have any other ideas of how to express this? A good example of language reflecting society - until Anglican churches started ordaining women, there WERE no female priests in the largely-Catholic, French-speaking countries, and hence there's no word for them.
Yes, Dave, it's true - sorry! I am still trying to "feel" the centigrade temperature without translating it mathematically, and I'm not there yet. But for the most part, visitors to Montreal WILL be able to understand a lot of the language, because a lot of what you come across in public is bilingual, including signage, and there is a great deal of English spoken.
Posted by: beth | April 04, 2006 at 10:06 AM
I think this is lovely too. I once thought of doing something like this with German, the only language I know well enough even to imagine it, but I quailed. Too worried about making mistakes!
Posted by: dale | April 04, 2006 at 11:28 AM
Hey Dale! Just do it! Who cares about mistakes? Mistakes are just another way of waying things...that's "saying" things (see I even make mistakes in English). If I worried about mistakes I make in my own German I would never say anything at all!
Posted by: butuki | April 04, 2006 at 12:11 PM
Beth, my instinctive usage would be "une pretre". This is based on my experience working for an international women's organisation where French was one of the official languages, along with English and Spanish, our practice then and my own continuing wish to adopt the least sexist practice in all languages. But that was some time ago and of course I would bow to the currently prevailing view among francophone feminists. Google lists about 600 uses of "une pretre" or "la pretre" (as opposed to hundreds of thousands of "pretresse", of course!).
Posted by: Jean | April 04, 2006 at 12:20 PM
Jean, that's an excellent suggestion and one I wondered about. As an American who is used to gender-neutral language, I find I bristle at the gender-specific French words for people in professions sometimes: "vendeuses", for example. "Priestess" clearly gives the wrong idea, in both French and English, and while the French language does insist on either "un" or "une", at least the word itself can be simply "priest."
Posted by: beth | April 04, 2006 at 02:54 PM
Bravo Beth!
20C? Ici, in Yorkshire, il neige this afternoon!
Anna.
Posted by: Anna | April 04, 2006 at 03:25 PM
The 20C departed after the weekend and we've had wet snow off and on all afternoon here, too. But that's OK - warmth is on the way.
Posted by: beth | April 04, 2006 at 03:54 PM
The trouble with the weather in England (as they say, there ain't no *climate*) is that we can't even be sure that warmth *is* on the way! Forecast here is rainy - yes, I know, the gardens need it...
Anna
Posted by: Anna | April 05, 2006 at 04:23 AM
Bravo Beth! This is fantastic. And very brave. You're an inspiration...
Posted by: kirsten | April 05, 2006 at 11:10 AM
Beth, I really appreciate your posting the version with errors... very helpful to those others of us who also wish to continue learning. Thank you! ... And brava!!
Posted by: MB | April 05, 2006 at 11:44 AM
Congratulations Beth! I enjoyed the story as well.
Posted by: mary | April 05, 2006 at 03:56 PM
beth! C'est très impressionant. You managed to infuse the French with the flavour of your English-language writing. Obviously it won't take you long to start writing a novel entirely in French.
Posted by: Natalie | April 05, 2006 at 06:43 PM
Natalie, I'm glad if that's the case, but I think in actuality my French sounds entirely like English translated into French - which it pretty much is! But speaking and writing French as French will come in time, I hope. It works both ways: on the bus today I was talking to a very nice French woman who said in English, when she heard I was American, "So you're resting here with us?" I do love this aspect of language, and expect it will become more and more interesting as I get more familiar with the subtleties.
The idea of writing ANYthing lengthy in French gives me an immediate headache!
Posted by: beth | April 05, 2006 at 06:53 PM
'so you're resting here with us?" - oh, I love that! And the lesson of it vis that one wants of course to grow in vocabulary and understanding of subtlety and choices available in a new language, to be able to communicate oneself as fully as possible, but not, I think, to become perfect, or just like a native-speaker, because the eccentricities of exchange between languages enrich them so much.
Posted by: Jean | April 06, 2006 at 04:52 AM