Mark my words: soft options

I swear it was the sign in Marie-Noëlle's shop, down here in the Var, that set me thinking about the way we - well, some of us - lessen the impact of words. Moving on smartly from euphemisms to expletives, and then back again, I had this week's theme for My Word at The National, Abu Dhabi ...

One of the books young people learning French find of most practical use, and also most fun, has an expletive as its title.

The author, writing simply as Geneviève and described by the publishers as a lady who “swears with exquisite grammatical accuracy" in both English and French, refers to the word in question being known in polite circles as les cinq lettres, the equivalent of a four-letter word.

However, readers are advised that France has few such circles. The word, we are assured, is vital for communication with the natives, lacks the shock value of its English translation and should be used liberally.

Many people will have worked out the identity of the word and its translation. They will have to make do with that since these are not words The National would normally use.

Newspapers, magazines and other sources of the written word take varying approaches. Some consider it essential on grounds of faithful quotation, or simply cool, to publish expletives without expurgation. Some make case-by-case judgements according to the perceived strength of each utterance. Others replace the letters with asterisks, with or without the initials of offending words.

In the UK at any rate, the greatest restraint in the written press is displayed by the same tabloid newspapers that get it wrong on so many other matters of taste.

My preference, reflecting a belief that parents should feel comfortable about encouraging their children to read newspapers, is for asterisks. I have come to oppose the use of initial letter or letters because this brings the word straight into the reader’s mind.

An even better solution might be to remove the further clue of a given number of letters, replacing the word or phrase with a single unbroken dash. I dislike the use of “expletive deleted” because constant repetition has turned the phrase into a cliché. But a strong argument could be made for stating directly that a quote has been modified. For example, someone describing himself as tired, angry or thrilled could be said to have used “strong language to stress the point”.

Exceptions, as always, arise. If a figure of authority is criticised for the indiscreet use of a curse in public, there is public interest in knowing what has been said.

I am familiar only with English and French, but imagine that these languages are not alone in possessing milder expressions intended to convey the same emphasis as swear words, sometimes using alliteration or rhyme to make the connection clear.

Both languages also offer plenty of escape routes for speakers and writers who may have something strong or unpalatable to declare but wish to dilute the meaning.

Marie-Noëlle, the newsagent who sells me my morning newspaper, put up a sign saying that as a result of certain indélicatesses, she no longer accepted payment by cheque. What she had in mind were the fraudsters who had cheated her, not quite conveyed by indélicatesse even if the definitions include “a dishonest act”.

In south-western France three years ago, at the end of a drag hunt, where huntsmen and hounds follow a scent but not live prey, a cage was produced from the back of the 4x4 in which René, an outwardly kind, thoughtful man, had been driving me around.

He opened it, releasing a live but probably confused fox into a field where it was promptly torn apart by grateful hounds. This act of unspeakable cruelty he presented as the pack’s récompense.

Not unlike the editors intent on suppressing swear words, or Marie-Noëlle
wanting to make no one feel too wretched about their criminality, René had found a gentle way of expressing something he knew to be not very nice at all.

* If you buy either Emma Burgess's book, another of her titles, Sexy French, or the Geneviève compilation, or already know/own them, let me know what you think.

Comments

[derek reavill]

I bought 'The Complete Merde' when I first moved to France and of course the French had never seen in it. So I found myself ordering copies for those who had a smattering of English!

While I shall never consider myself totally at ease with the language, I do find that I use the five letter word more often than not.

[Dumdad]

I bought the original book Merde! and the sequel Merde Encore! when they first appeared. Very useful.

The Frog Queen often uses "mince!" instead of merde; she tells me that the French also substitute mercredi as well.

Polite Brits shout sugar! in moments of anguish or rage although not me.

[Bill Taylor]

Quebecois French use words from the Catholic liturgy as their worst form of profanity. For instance: bapteme, calice, calvaire and tabernac. I apologize if I've offended anyone by writing them without asterisks.

[Gigi]

A friend of mine would forbid her children to use the word *** (gosh that's silly - I'll have to put the first letter there, Colin, otherwise you won't know what I'm talking about! It's c**) because she'd looked it up in the dictionary and the translation is that horrible C-word in English. Everybody says c** - even the president! On the other hand, she didn't mind them using the word p*****, which I find quite offensive, because the translation is 'prostitute' so that's OK.

I tend to say 'mince' or 'purée' when I'm riled - which is very often these days :-(

[Bill Taylor]

I know an extremely funny joke about the Pope doing a crossword. But there's no way to tell it here.
Why are you so often riled these days, Gigi?

[Gigi]

Bill, my life is a very bad novel in need of a rewrite...p***** de m**** fait c****...that's what.

Pope? Crossword?