Anyone familiar with French?

EctoJohn

Romantic Swordsman
Joined
May 8, 2009
Posts
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My newest story, "The Ladies of Summer" (link in my sig), takes place in France, and so I oftenly used the abbreviations for monsiuer, madamme, and madamoiselle.

M.
Mme.
Mlle.

I got feedback from someone that said these are incorrect, specifically having the period after Mme and Mlle.

Now, my reference for these French honorifics are from the English translations of the Arsene Lupin novels by Maurice LeBlanc, which I love.
I've read most those books, and even by a couple different publishers those abbreviations are the same.

I just tried looking it up online now, and it would seem both with and without the periods are acceptable.

So, can anyone out there more familiar with French than me tell me which is correct, if not both?
If both forms are correct, which is more accepted or common in real use?
 
My newest story, "The Ladies of Summer" (link in my sig), takes place in France, and so I oftenly used the abbreviations for monsiuer, madamme, and madamoiselle.

M.
Mme.
Mlle.

I got feedback from someone that said these are incorrect, specifically having the period after Mme and Mlle.

Now, my reference for these French honorifics are from the English translations of the Arsene Lupin novels by Maurice LeBlanc, which I love.
I've read most those books, and even by a couple different publishers those abbreviations are the same.

I just tried looking it up online now, and it would seem both with and without the periods are acceptable.

So, can anyone out there more familiar with French than me tell me which is correct, if not both?
If both forms are correct, which is more accepted or common in real use?

CMS 15.17 Note the presence or absence of periods after the following French forms used with either a full name or a surname only.

M.
MM.
Mme
Mlle
 
CMS 15.17 Note the presence or absence of periods after the following French forms used with either a full name or a surname only.

M.
MM.
Mme
Mlle

So you're saying as long as I have a surname after Mme or Mlle in my story, for example Mme. Rouchelay and Mlle. Louise, it's correct, but as a singular word with no attached name or just a first name, it has none?
 
So you're saying as long as I have a surname after Mme or Mlle in my story, for example Mme. Rouchelay and Mlle. Louise, it's correct, but as a singular word with no attached name or just a first name, it has none?

It goes on to say When Monsieur, Messieurs, Madame, or Mademoiselle is used without a name, in direct address, it is spelled out.
 
Well I didn't abbreviate it without a name attached, so then I used it correctly?
 
Lynn is right but the French, as always, have Gallic logic on their side.

All title abbreviations that include the first and last letter of the full title do not have a full stop. That includes Mme, Mlle but also Dr, Lt, Mgr (Monseigneur - a high catholic priest), Me (Maitre - a senior lawyer) and Col (colonel).

Without the final letter, like M., MM.,( messieurs), Prof., etc you must have the full stop.

This applies in fiction writing but gets confused in dialogue. M. Dupont is often referred to as " monsieur Dupont"," M. Dupont", or even "Monsieur Dupont". Similarly, you can have "madame Dupont" or Mme Dupont".

Using the terms alone changes the sense. "Bonjour monsieur, madame" translates as, "Good morning sir/ madam". Think of waiters.

Mlle has gone the same way as 'Miss' in English. It has no legal justification and is resented by most women. Whilst in English the term 'Ms' has gained traction, 'Madame' has had a similar effect in French. I get business letters addressed 'Mme' or 'Madame' from people who know I'm not married.

Be very careful before using 'Mlle'. It generally has a vaguely sexual, connotation and is rarely used in conversation - except for the waiter ingratiating himself. For a young woman you know, use her name, "Bonjour Claudine (Dupont) or just say 'Bonjour, madame'.

Mlle, strictly 'mademoiselle', is best written in English dialogue as 'mam'selle' to reflect the spoken sound, like 'can't' and 'isn't'.
 
dung d'Canadien takes care of almost all my French needs.
 
Now I'm confused a bit, elfin.

From what MistressLynn wrote, I thought I had indeed used it correctly, but from what you wrote, now it sounds incorrect.

The correct way of doing it is now hazy at best.

Are both acceptable or are you saying that the punctuated titles I took example from are a bad translation of French?

And, if it's not too much to ask, can anyone that knows read over my story and check out my uses of Mme, M., and Mlle and see if it's correct?

Who knows if or when I'd ever use the French titles again, but knowing more never hurt anyone.
 
John, I thought I was being clear, but apologies if I confused you.

I read ‘The Ladies of Summer’ and thoroughly enjoyed it. The contrast between society decorum and erotic dalliance was good, I thought.

On abbreviations, these shouldn’t have a full stop;

Mme. Suzanne Rouchelay , Mme. Rouchelay, Mlle. Louise

Should always be ; Mme Suzanne Rouchelay , Mme Rouchelay, Mlle Louise – because the abbreviation ends with the last letter of the long form word.

M. Claude Louise, M. Rouchelay. These are correct. They must have a full stop because they DON’T have the final letter of the longer word.

Unlike in English, you can write the titles in full, ‘Madame Rouchelay, Monsieur Louise etc’, but they still translate as Mr. , Mrs. and Miss.

When ‘monsieur’, ‘madame’, mademoiselle’ are used without names attached, they never start with a capital and, as they can’t be titles, they can't be abbreviated. Theybecome polite greetings – just like our, ‘Good Morning, Sir/Madam’, or ‘Yes Ma’am/Miss.

You handle this perfectly, but in one case you wrote, "Bonjoir, madame,". This should be ‘Bonjour, madame,”. Also, the plural of ‘chateau’ is ‘chateaux, not ‘chatteus’.

Villa d'Louise: a couple of points. ‘de’, du’ and ‘de la’ only become d’ – de l’ in front of a noun with a vowel as first letter, e.g. ‘de l’actrice’. Also, here it is not needed. It should be 'Villa Louise' - 'The Louises' Villa'.

A couple of English edit points;

You say, “. . . to fetch the carriage as herself and Mlle. Louise gathered their hats. . . “. This should be, “she and Mlle Louise.

Also, “She looked over at Raymonde, now wearing nothing but her bloomers, stockings and camisole.” means that it’s Raymonde in bloomers and camisole when you mean Suzanne. So it should be, “Now wearing nothing but her bloomers, stockings and camisole, she looked over at Raymonde.”

I hope this explains better. Your ending with familiarity reverting to’ politesse’ was a nice touch
 
dung d'Canadien takes care of almost all my French needs.


Jimbo est une merde pour les cerveaux. Son trou d'âne est sa seule bonne caractéristique. Les seuls sandwichs qu'il mange sont des sandwichs de merde. Trop mauvais sa mère ne l'a pas rincé. La merde est la seule chose qu'il comprend. Trop mauvais Dubya n'a pas arraché d'un coup de la dent son pénis quand il a eu le hasard. Sa propre La Dung de L'American est son repas préféré. Laissez-nous espère juste que le bâtard ne reproduit pas.
 
Now I'm confused a bit, elfin.

From what MistressLynn wrote, I thought I had indeed used it correctly, but from what you wrote, now it sounds incorrect.

The correct way of doing it is now hazy at best.

Are both acceptable or are you saying that the punctuated titles I took example from are a bad translation of French?

And, if it's not too much to ask, can anyone that knows read over my story and check out my uses of Mme, M., and Mlle and see if it's correct?

Who knows if or when I'd ever use the French titles again, but knowing more never hurt anyone.


For writing for the public, what M. Lynn offered is just fine. That's what the Chicago Manual of Style is supposed to help you do--without all of the "I prefers" and "I've always dones."
 
Lynn is right but the French, as always, have Gallic logic on their side.

All title abbreviations that include the first and last letter of the full title do not have a full stop. That includes Mme, Mlle but also Dr, Lt, Mgr (Monseigneur - a high catholic priest), Me (Maitre - a senior lawyer) and Col (colonel).

Without the final letter, like M., MM.,( messieurs), Prof., etc you must have the full stop.

This applies in fiction writing but gets confused in dialogue. M. Dupont is often referred to as " monsieur Dupont"," M. Dupont", or even "Monsieur Dupont". Similarly, you can have "madame Dupont" or Mme Dupont".

Using the terms alone changes the sense. "Bonjour monsieur, madame" translates as, "Good morning sir/ madam". Think of waiters.

Mlle has gone the same way as 'Miss' in English. It has no legal justification and is resented by most women. Whilst in English the term 'Ms' has gained traction, 'Madame' has had a similar effect in French. I get business letters addressed 'Mme' or 'Madame' from people who know I'm not married.

Be very careful before using 'Mlle'. It generally has a vaguely sexual, connotation and is rarely used in conversation - except for the waiter ingratiating himself. For a young woman you know, use her name, "Bonjour Claudine (Dupont) or just say 'Bonjour, madame'.

Mlle, strictly 'mademoiselle', is best written in English dialogue as 'mam'selle' to reflect the spoken sound, like 'can't' and 'isn't'.

Agree. Thank you. :)
 
John, I thought I was being clear, but apologies if I confused you.

I read ‘The Ladies of Summer’ and thoroughly enjoyed it. The contrast between society decorum and erotic dalliance was good, I thought.

On abbreviations, these shouldn’t have a full stop;

Mme. Suzanne Rouchelay , Mme. Rouchelay, Mlle. Louise

Should always be ; Mme Suzanne Rouchelay , Mme Rouchelay, Mlle Louise – because the abbreviation ends with the last letter of the long form word.

M. Claude Louise, M. Rouchelay. These are correct. They must have a full stop because they DON’T have the final letter of the longer word.

Unlike in English, you can write the titles in full, ‘Madame Rouchelay, Monsieur Louise etc’, but they still translate as Mr. , Mrs. and Miss.

When ‘monsieur’, ‘madame’, mademoiselle’ are used without names attached, they never start with a capital and, as they can’t be titles, they can't be abbreviated. Theybecome polite greetings – just like our, ‘Good Morning, Sir/Madam’, or ‘Yes Ma’am/Miss.

You handle this perfectly, but in one case you wrote, "Bonjoir, madame,". This should be ‘Bonjour, madame,”. Also, the plural of ‘chateau’ is ‘chateaux, not ‘chatteus’.

Villa d'Louise: a couple of points. ‘de’, du’ and ‘de la’ only become d’ – de l’ in front of a noun with a vowel as first letter, e.g. ‘de l’actrice’. Also, here it is not needed. It should be 'Villa Louise' - 'The Louises' Villa'.

A couple of English edit points;

You say, “. . . to fetch the carriage as herself and Mlle. Louise gathered their hats. . . “. This should be, “she and Mlle Louise.

Also, “She looked over at Raymonde, now wearing nothing but her bloomers, stockings and camisole.” means that it’s Raymonde in bloomers and camisole when you mean Suzanne. So it should be, “Now wearing nothing but her bloomers, stockings and camisole, she looked over at Raymonde.”

I hope this explains better. Your ending with familiarity reverting to’ politesse’ was a nice touch

Alright, thanks for that explanation, it is very much more clear to me now.
The other corrections are good to know as well for future reference.
Also thanks for the compliments on my story. :)

Now I have to wonder about all the Arsene Lupin books I've been reading. The books, translated into English from French, used full stops after all the abbreviated titles. This appears in books by different publishers as well.

Was that a mistake by the original translators?
The translations to English were usually only a year after the original novels and those are all from the early 20th century, about 1920s-1930s.
 
Now I have to wonder about all the Arsene Lupin books I've been reading. The books, translated into English from French, used full stops after all the abbreviated titles. This appears in books by different publishers as well.

Was that a mistake by the original translators?
The translations to English were usually only a year after the original novels and those are all from the early 20th century, about 1920s-1930s.

Prevalent editorial style preferences come and go--and some publishers have their own counter-common style preferences for their own books.
 
Alright, thanks for that explanation, it is very much more clear to me now.
The other corrections are good to know as well for future reference.
Also thanks for the compliments on my story. :)

Now I have to wonder about all the Arsene Lupin books I've been reading. The books, translated into English from French, used full stops after all the abbreviated titles. This appears in books by different publishers as well.

Was that a mistake by the original translators?
The translations to English were usually only a year after the original novels and those are all from the early 20th century, about 1920s-1930s.


John,

Ze little gray cells are finally working! You’re reading Lupin in English, aren’t you? The translators have kept the French titles but anglicized the punctuation to ‘Mme.’ and so on. You could argue it, but I think it’s an error, because when you use foreign words in an English text you should retain their integrity. This is also the view of English language style guides.

I flicked through my French language ‘Lupins’ and Leblanc always seems to use ‘unfullstopped’ Mme’s and Mlle’s. So do other contemporary French writers.

To be certain, I went to the bible of French grammar and usage, ‘Grevisse - Le Bon Usage’.

111. The abbreviation procedures

When a word is reduced to a single letter it has a full stop. (M., p. page, J. Dupont)
Also the case when 2 consonants make a single sound (Ch.= Charles – M. Ch. Dupont)

When the word is reduced to its beginning and end, the end is placed in superscript and there is no full stop. (I can’t do superscript here – but it means the ‘me’ and ‘lle’ of Mme/Mlle should be small letters above the line. You still see it, but rarely. The standard Mme and Mlle has prevailed. Same goes for ‘Dr’)

(Glorious Gallic pomposity) English is different because it puts a full stop even when the abbreviation has the last letter. This is logical enough when it’s an English word: Mr. or Mrs. – there is no reason to adopt this with French words, e.g. Mr.=Monsieur or Mme.=Madame.

Phew! *takes wet towel off head* It’s nice to have a ‘writerly’ thread on the AH for once.
 

The first language ruling of the modern French State took place in 1539. At the time, the French crown was still busy vying for power with members of the aristocracy and the Catholic Church. Looking for ways to chip away at the Church's influence, King François I ( 1515-47 ) passed the ordinance of Villers-Cotterêts, which stated that French would be the language of France's tribunals— not Latin, the language of the Church. The same ordinance made French mandatory in all administrative documents, although that rule wasn't widely applied until the French Revolution.

The French poet François de Malherbe ( 1555-1628 ) had a decisive influence on the French language because he managed to impose the idea of a "norm." Malherbe convinced a group of followers that France's class of "honest" men— meaning people of "value" like aristocrats, clerics, and artists— should employ language that was clear, precise, uncorrupted, and followed rules of bon usage ( correct use ). In 1634 Cardinal Richelieu ( 1585-1642 ) gave his protection to some of Malherbe's followers. The next year, Richelieu created the Académie Française, whose founding goal was to give "undebatable rules to our language, to make it pure, eloquent, and capable of addressing the arts and sciences."


-Jean-Benoît Nadeau and Julie Barlow
Sixty Million Frenchmen Can't Be Wrong ( why we love France but not the French )
Naperville, Illinois 2003.




French and the French are enigmatic to me; they and their language are fascinating yet incomprehensible. I was fortunate to have had a native French speaker as a childhood teacher— that gave me what little pronunciation ability I possess. Voyaging, climbing and skiing in the French isles and Alps ( and France proper, of course ) necessitated an adult revisitation of the language I never really learned. To my eternal chagrin and embarrassment, I remain phrasebook- and dictionary-dependent whilst envying my fluent relatives.

Other than the aural horror of the Brooklyn/New York accent, I reckon there are not many more offensive sounds in nature than an American butchering French.

 
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Well yes, but it wasn't quite that cut and dried. After Asterix had defeated the Romans (!), Latin was in decline and regional dialects gained strength. François I was from the north and pushed Norman French. The same that had spread through England after the invasion of William the Conqueror.

Not only the suppression of Latin, but also the suppression of regional dialects was the objective.

It's strange to think that French was the language of Scotland in 1600, Mary Queen of Scots didn't speak English, and the London Court of Elizabeth I conversed in French.

I giggle when friends say, 'Blue jeans are as American as Apple Pie'. Rubbish. The Strauss brothers (Levi was the elder) were making strong working pants from 'Gênes fustian', a white, yellowish fabric from Genoa (jeans), before they went to France and discovered 'Le bleu de Nîmes' (Blue denim). So jeans are half French. Hats off to the surrender monkeys!
 
They run away or surrender when confronted...oh you mean the language.

Sorry no.
 
Well yes, but it wasn't quite that cut and dried. After Asterix had defeated the Romans (!), Latin was in decline and regional dialects gained strength. François I was from the north and pushed Norman French. The same that had spread through England after the invasion of William the Conqueror.

Not only the suppression of Latin, but also the suppression of regional dialects was the objective.

It's strange to think that French was the language of Scotland in 1600, Mary Queen of Scots didn't speak English, and the London Court of Elizabeth I conversed in French.

I giggle when friends say, 'Blue jeans are as American as Apple Pie'. Rubbish. The Strauss brothers (Levi was the elder) were making strong working pants from 'Gênes fustian', a white, yellowish fabric from Genoa (jeans), before they went to France and discovered 'Le bleu de Nîmes' (Blue denim). So jeans are half French. Hats off to the surrender monkeys!

The story of Le bleu de Nîmes is a fantastic piece of trivia. I've never previously heard it.

Speaking of half French— because I read Antonia Fraser's Mary, Queen of Scots within the last couple of years, I was aware that she was raised in France ( because of her betrothal to the Dauphin and her French mother ).




Another book I read last year was illuminating:

"Almost every town in France now has a museum of 'daily life' or of 'popular arts and traditions'. Most of them are stocked with artefacts that would otherwise have disappeared or turned into expensive accessories in homes and restaurants. The roughly decorated chests, the butter churns and baskets, the wooden tables with smooth, saucer shaped depressions into which the soup was poured, bear witness to the resilience of their owners. They have the dignity of objects that shared a human life. Each one contains the ghost of a gesture that was performed a million times. They make it easy to imagine a life of hard work and habit.

Naturally the artefacts are the best examples available: the hefty cradle, the expensive plough with metal parts and a manufacturer's name, the embroidered smock that was kept in a chest as part of someone's trouseau and never saw the pigsty or the field. As survivors, they tell a heartening tale of endurance. Other companions of daily life— the rotting bed, the treasured dung heap, the stench-laden fug of human and animal breath that could extinguish a burning candle— are impossible to display.

Sometimes, the person who was survived by her possessions appears in their midst and the purposeful display is belied by the photograph of a face scoured by hardship. The expression is often one of faint suspicion, dread or simply dull fatigue. It makes imagining the life that belonged to these objects seem a blundering intrusion. It seems to say that daily existence is harder to fathom than the obsolete tools and kitchen utensils, and that, if it could be recreated, the staple diet of a past life, with its habits, sensations and smells would have a stranger taste than the most exotic regional dish.

Written descriptions of daily life inevitably convey the same bright sense of purpose and progress. They pass through the years of lived experience like carefree travellers, telescoping the changes that only a long memory could have perceived. Occasionally, however, a simple fact has the same effect as the photograph in the museum. At the end of the eighteenth century, doctors from urban Alsace to rural Brittany found that high death rates were not caused primarily by famine and disease. The problem was that, as soon as they became ill, people took to their beds and hoped to die. In 1750, the Marquis d'Argenson noticed that the peasants who farmed his land in the Touraine were 'trying not to multiply': 'They wish only for death'. Even in times of plenty, old people who could no longer wield a spade or hold a needle were keen to die as soon as possible. 'Lasting too long' was one of the great fears of life. Invalids were habitually hated by their carers. It took a special government grant, instituted in 1850 in the Seine and Loiret départments, to persuade poor families to keep their ailing relatives at home instead of sending them to that bare waiting room of the graveyard, the municipal hospice.

When there was just enough food for the living, the mouth of a dying person was an obscenity. In the relatively harmonious household of the 1840s described by the peasant novelist Émile Guillaumin, the family members speculate openly in front of Émile's bed-ridden grandmother (who has not lost her hearing): 'I wish we knew how long it's going to last.' And another would reply, 'Not long, I hope.' As soon as the burden had expired, any water kept in pans or basins was thrown out (since the soul might have washed itself— or, if bound for Hell, tried to extinguish itself— as it left the house), and then life went on as before.

'Happy as a corpse' was a saying in the Alps. Visitors to the villages in the Savoy Alps, the central Pyrenees, Alsace and Lorraine, and parts of the Massif Central were often horrified to find silent populations of cretins with hideous thyroid deformities. (The link between goitre and lack of iodine in the water was not widely recognized until the early nineteenth century.) The Alpine explorer Saussure, who asked in vain for directions in a village in the Aosta Valley when most of the villagers were out in the fields, imagined that 'an evil spirit had turned the inhabitants of the unhappy village into dumb animals, leaving them with just enough human face to show that they had once been men.

The infirmity that seemed a curse to Saussure was a blessing to the natives. The birth of a cretinous baby was believed to bring good luck to the family. The idiot child would never have to work and would never have to leave home to earn money to pay the tax-collector. These hideous, blank creatures were already half-cured of life. Even the death of a normal child could be a consolation. If the baby had lived long enough to be baptized, or if a clever witch revived the corpse for an instant to sprinkle it with holy water, its soul would pray for the family in heaven...

...Categorical terms like 'peasants', 'artisans' and 'the poor' reduce the majority of the population to smudges in a crowd scene that no degree of magnification could resolve into a group of faces. They suggest a large and luckless contingent that filled in the background of important events and participated in the nation's historical development by suffering and engaging in a semblance of economic activity.

Even with a short term view, these categories turn out to be misleading. Rich people could fall into povery and peasants could be rich and powerful. Many peasants lived in towns and commuted to the fields. Many were also craftsmen, traders and local officials, just as many so-called aristocrats were semi-literate farmers. Statistics based on a mixture of surveys, censuses and guesswork give what seems a balanced view of the whole population. In 1789, three-quarters were described as 'agricultural'. A century later, the agricultural population had fallen to about 48 per cent, while 25 per cent worked in industry, 14 per cent in commerce and transport, 4 per cent in public services and administration and 3 per cent in the liberal professions, and 6 per cent were independently wealthy. But for reasons that will become clear, these figures always exaggerate the tidy divisions of the population and underestimate the number of people who tried to live off the land."


-Graham Robb
The Discovery of France: A Historical Geography from the Revolution to the First World War.
New York and London, 2007.



Pure serendipity led me to pick up this book whilst strolling amongst the stacks at the local library. What good luck!

Unbeknownst to most all (from the dust jacket description), "While Gustave Eiffel was changing the skyline of Paris, large parts of France were still terra incognita. Even in the age of railways and newspapers, France was a land of ancient tribal divisions, prehistoric communication networks, and pre-Christian beliefs. French itself was a minority language. Historians and anthropologists of the time referred to this land, without irony, as 'Gaul' and Julius Caesar was still being quoted at the end of the nineteenth century as a useful source of information on the inhabitants of the vast interior.

Graham Robb describes that unknown world— before and after the shattering arrival of modern civilization, from the end of the ancien régime to the early twentieth century— in arresting narrative detail. He recounts the epic journeys of mapmakers, scientists, soldiers, administrators, and intrepid tourists, of itinerant workers, pilgrims, and herdsmen with their millions of migratory domestic animals. We learn how France was explored, charted, and colonized, and how the imperial influence of Paris was gradually extended throughout a kingdom of isolated towns and villages..."

For me, it was a truly eye-opening book; I was totally and utterly ignorant of the extent to which medieval conditions predominated throughout almost all of France right up to the dawn of the twentieth century. Amazing!

 
Is there any thread topic you wouldn't dump a copyright violation on, Try? :rolleyes:
 
Is there any post or thread you won't comment about an alleged copyright violation. :eek:

He gave credit to the author, sheesh.
 
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