Tongue-Tied

Dead Cat?

At times, my occasional confidence gets the better of me. As I've mentioned already, there are frequent occasions when fear drives out comprehension. But when I'm relaxed and with friends, I'm quite articulate and can understand (and mis-understand) what's being said with some ease.

The other week, in the course of a long car journey (a great chance to brush up on French) five of us were discussing recent films at the Cinéclub. I'm not a film buff but had joined the town's Cinéclub as part of the plan to assimilate. In addition to showing some pretty good films, they offer a chance for the filmgoers to meet afterwards for a glass or two of Blanquette (Le Brut Original du Monde), nibbles and an informal discussion about the movie. Anyway, back to the car.

Marie and the two other French passengers were discussing a film they'd seen in the autumn. It was Korean and about some Buddhist monks in a monastery. They told us the story. "Si génial!" They clearly thought this was so gentle and humorous. They giggled and "Ahhh"d at their recollections of the film, so light and happy.

"What's the story about?" asked my partner whose French is not as good as mine.

"Well, its about these monks, see. Buddhist monks and they've got this monastery cat. They chase the cat and once they've caught it, they cut out it's heart, fry it and eat it."

"Eughhhh! Ce n'est pas très Buddhist!" exclaimed my partner in French clear enough to cause some puzzlement among our companions.

Benoît, whose English is at least as good as my French, explained the REAL plot-line. The monks did indeed have a monastery cat, that much I'd understood correctly. The cat liked to sit on the writing desk of the scribe monk. One day, by accident, the scribe took hold of the cat's tail instead of his caligraphy brush, and dipping it in the inkwell, found that it worked better than his brush, producing the most beautiful script.

I thought this version no less bizarre than mine. My interpretation depended upon a vile imagination and my mistaking the word "coeur" for "queue"(tail).  And while it may not have been very Buddhist, I thought my story had lots more action than the original.

I suppose all of us foreigners have stories about almost-homonyms - similar sounding words which cause confusion. I heard recently about an Englishman of our acquaintance in a timber merchants looking for wood for some decking. He couldn't understand why the salesman started talking about dogs. The French timber merchant appeared equally non-plussed when the English guy responded with an anecdote about his own dog. Clearly, the words "chêne"(oak) and "chien" are too close for comfort in the English ear.

I still go to the Cinéclub but take greater care, when I return home, with my plot descriptions. And everyday I am thankful to be learning French which is NOT tonal, as opposed to Mandarin which IS tonal, and in which the word for "strict" in third tone becomes "castrated" when said in fourth tone. Against such dangers, the difference between heart and tail pales into nothingness...........unless you're the monastery cat!