Avez-Vous Vu Les (Bon) Mots?

Back in October I was reading Saturday's Globe and Mail in Montreal, and in the Arts section I chanced upon a book review that would have made me fall off my chair if I wasn't sitting cross-legged on my bed, or shot liquid out my nostrils if I happened to be sucking on a beverage. One topic I seem to have an insatiable appetite for is language history. I own at least 5 biographies of English, and almost bought another a few days ago. Whilst my knowledge of my own language is exemplary, I am effectively ignorant of others. The problem with language is that it dictates access to itself, so whilst histories of English in English are as plentiful as England's land is green and pleasant, histories of other languages in English are somewhat rarer. However, here was a review informing me of a book, a book I had dreamt of but whose existence seemed fanciful, a history of French in English. To say I was pleased would be an understatement. I was ecstatic.

There was one slight problem though, being a new book, The Story Of French was only available in hardcover. Actually, at the time of reading the review the book was not available at all. Obviously, that very day I had hurried down to the Chapters on Rue Sainte-Catherine to search for it, only to be disappointed upon being told it was yet to hit the shelves. It was only a few weeks later, in an East Village Barnes & Noble, did I have to contemplate the dilemma of whether to purchase a hardcover book.
I do actually own two hardcover books; a biography of Suede and Bill Drummond's wryly titled "How To Be An Artist", so I cannot claim to maintain a paperback purity for myself. However, I do find myself more attracted to the ideals of the paperback as opposed to the hardcover. As a strong believer in universal access to education, the hardcover, with its inflated price and inconvenient physicality, seems to be very much opposed to this ideal. That said, it was only about 30 seconds after I first handled the book before I was standing in the queue waiting to pay.

The book consumed me as I consumed it. Hilary would come home from work to find me sitting on the chair in her room grinning like a goose as I read. She would be perplexed to why I would prefer to sit around reading rather than be out exploring New York. But I find this topic endlessly fascinating. My enthusiasm for language change and theory expresses itself physically; it makes me jump, flail my arms and whoop obnoxiously.

What was most intriguing upon reading this book was being able to assess the differences in attitude towards language between English and French. Everyone who has at least some exposure to French would be familiar with the idea of bon usage. This is the belief amongst French-speakers that there is a perfect French that they are constantly in need to strive for. As well as a purity to the language that requires protection. These ideas were part of the reasoning that led to the formation of the Academie Française; an institution designed to maintain the language. The Academie's initial mandate was to standardise the spelling, grammar of the Parisian dialect of the Langues D'Oïl (the northern Romance dialects of the French territory). Paris being the country's political centre, its dialect was the most powerful, and would eventually become Standard French. Standard English evolved in much the same way due to London's political might. After this achievement, however, the Academie became more concerned with language protection and maintenance. What I've always found amusing and rather ironic about this is that French, like all modern languages (with the exception of Esperanto), came to its current state due to the process of language change (either evolution or Creolisation). If Latin had attempted to protect itself in the same way that French does, French would not exist!
Nowadays the Academie makes decisions of what words should be used, and invents new terms for modern concepts. It acts kind of like a gardener, weeding out what is unacceptable and attempting to nourish what it considers the language's best attributes. One interesting thing about French is that it sees little point to synonyms. They are perceived as affecting the clarity of the language. This is in complete opposition to the attitude of English which prides itself on is its synonyms. While French will discourage the adoption of new words, English will beg, borrow, steal, maim and murder to obtain more. English has ransacked other languages to the extent that only 10% - 15% of the modern dictionary consists of words of Anglo-Saxon origin. English's insatiable appetite for new words led it to not only obtain "warranty" from Norman-French, but then go and grab the exact same word from Parisian-French to give it "guarantee" as well (warden and guardian arrive the same way). While French insists on clarity, English is obsessed with adaptability. English's most high profile acquisition of recent years has been the word "schadenfreude". Whilst English can express the concept as "taking pleasure in the pain of others", it saw that German could express the idea in a more succinct fashion and so took the word for itself. Yet English doesn't just take from other languages, some of its most fruitful harvests come from its own dialects. The inventiveness of Afro-American slang is a fertile and constant source of new words for English.
And this is where the Acamdie's task is pointless. Language will never be stagnant. There is no perfect French, because language is always in a state of flux. The same way that English borrows heavily from its own dialects, French does and will do the same. Whilst the psychological impact of bon usage may still be prevalent, it is arguable that its hold on the mindset of African French speakers is less so that on its European and North American speakers. Most French speaking Africans already use septante and nonante (seventy and ninety) instead of the archaic soixante-dix and quartre-vingt-dix. And it is from the slang or argot of France's north and west African immigrant communities that French youth obtain most of their "cool" expressions. Expressions that, over time, will find their way into mainstream usage.

Yet it's not just the francophonie who are seduced by the idea of bon usage. French is still the second most taught language second language despite its declining international status. Although it carries no superior attributes than say, Basque or Zulu (or any other tongue), the ability to speak French still carries the perception of an educational weight. Many West African nations only offer higher education courses in French, rather than their native languages because of this perceived eminence.

I actually finished The Story of French on the train between New York and Chicago several weeks ago, and have been wanting to write something about it ever since. However, like languages themselves, this topic has an immeasurable amount of tangents on which I could have diverged. Attempting to restrain myself to a more succinct piece has been rather difficult. And so it is more than likely that topics of a similar nature will be revisited on this page as my own evolution diverges on its immeasurable possible tangents.