Here's something interesting about language: I've noticed lately that my brain is ceasing to differentiate between French and English. For example, although my host dad speaks to me solely in French, my mom occasionally lapses into English when she's giving me some kind of instruction. The baffling part is that I'll remember the information that she expressed-- like the fact that I can help myself to some yogurt if I want it, or that I should feel free to throw my dirty towels in the family laundry basket-- but I'll forget which language she was using when she said it. Is that some sort of insight into cognitive processing? When we remember something, are we actually remembering words, or is it that the information is essentially codeless, and the language part is merely required for comprehension prior to storage? Clearly I should have paid more attention in Cognitive Psych.
I'm writing this right after dinner and I think I should let you all know that I love duck paté, which we had again tonight. It's spreadable meat, which is a delight in itself, but it also happens to be scrumptious. My host mom continues to crack me up by insisting that everything she serves is "good for the health!" As in, "Finish the salami-- it is good for the health!" "Eat the creamed spinach, it is good for the health!" Or tonight, "Have as much paté as you like, it is... not bad for the health!" I love that I'm living in a country where I can have crepes, paté, and gruyere every day. Speaking of fromage, my host dad told me last night that there are over 300 different types of French cheese, adding that if I try about five or six types a day from now until June, I can sample each and every one. MDR, Christophe.
I've been meaning to explain MDR (pronounced "Em-day-air") for awhile now. It stands for "Mort de rire" (dying of laughter) and is the French equivalent of "lol." (Incidentally, if you Google "mort de rire," one of the first hits is this baby, laughing like a crazy fool). The fact that a French equivalent of AIM slang even exists is funny enough, but for some reason "mort de rire" is infinitely more hilarious than "laughing out loud." For this reason, we have decided to start using it in conversation. It will doubtless lend us some much-needed Parisian street cred.
While I'm on the tangent of explaining things, let me also define for you a vocab word that will figure into the next part of this post. The word is "mantique," devised by me or Diane or possibly both, I don't remember, whilst at the Ann Arbor antiques fair. A mantique refers to any antique that would be singularly appealing to a man-- including but not limited to ships in bottles and other nautical-themed objects, hunting and game paraphernalia (poker supplies, rifles and other weaponry, all manner of taxidermied animals), objects one might find in a 19th-century study (globes/telescopes/hourglasses), Old West memorabilia, anything related to epic warfare or fantasy realms (suits of armor, goblets, patents of nobility, ale tankards, crystal balls) and knickknacks related to smoking and/or drinking (pipes, lighters, snuff boxes, brandy snifters, whiskey flasks). Basically, if you would expect to find it in Gaston's tavern or Saurumon's lair, you're on the right track.
With that in mind, consider the following bronze bas relief currently on display in the Louvre.
I'm aware that this is a legitimate piece of art (Nymph of Fontainbleu, by Cellini) with stylistic sophistication and historical depth, but all I can think when I look at it is "mantique! mantique!" Reclining female nude? Check. Fifteen-point stag? Check. Charging boar (bottom left)? Check! A perfect addition to any self-respecting hunting lodge. I'd hang it over the fortress-replica entryway, facing the trio of elk heads mounted above the fireplace.
On to more serious matters. It was Kristen's birthday today! I lied about the serious part.
And there she is, the only one noticing the camera. It's somewhat anticlimactic to turn 21 in a country whose drinking age is 16, but we took her out for a round at the bar anyway. Except that it's Paris and we have to be cultured now, so that meant champagne and red wine all around. Joyeux anniversaire!
Stay tuned for tomorrow's entry, when I will take you on a tour of the Paris Metro, which promises to be just as exciting as it sounds.
2 comments:
That baby is terrifying! But I love the mantiques. You forgot to mention ornamental beer steins in the list of mantiques. They are definitely a part of Gaston's hunting lodge.
I figured that was more or less similar to "ale tankards."
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