Amuse-Bouche No. 5: What’s Litotes?by Julia FreyWhen is an insult not an insult?Isabelle has invited (pals) to dinner. She brings in the (“appetizer,” not “entree”) hot from the oven, gives each of us a slice, watches to see if we like it. François-Noël swallows his first bite and announces,“” (“It lets itself be eaten”—i.e., it’s edible). He’s using (lee TUT), understatement. His slangy expression means Isabelle’s quiche is delicious. But don’t say that to your boss’s wife. Context is important. Depending on your tone of voice, “” (she’s not bad) can mean anything from she’s okay to she’s gorgeous. In a classic , you take the opposite of what you mean and put it in the negative: (it’s not hot) means it’s freezing out. Isabelle might have answered François-Noël, “” (It doesn’t make you feel like throwing up?)My sister, ever the literature professor, uses the English pronunciation: “Lye TOE teez? That’s a figure of classical rhetoric; to show irony, you use the negative of its contrary. Put simply, you say the least to mean the most. I teach it to my students.” (Nice!) All the irony is in my voice, but it’s still . I really mean . I’m glad college English is far behind me. The French use all the time. Oblique language, particularly understatement, shows your (cleverness) and (sophistication). To be truly (“witty,” not “spiritual”), you have to master (the unsaid) and (hidden meaning). They say “” (you can take her out), to mean “She’s a babe.” If you hear “” (Let’s stay in touch), it may or may not happen. (All right already!). I have enough trouble just being clear. In multicultural America you have to be explicit, because fewer and fewer people are native English speakers. We are taught to value “plain speaking” -- -- not . Poor, flat-footed Americans are simply trying to avoid misunderstandings. The French challenge you to think. Often they’ll say one thing to imply something else. Above all, they abhor banality. I remember the day Michel said he’d try to give me a ride to the airport, but he wasn’t sure. When I got home there was a note on my door: “” (I came by to tell you goodbye). Unspoken was: “Sorry I can’t take you to the airport.”The word itself is an example of what I nickname “” (fashionable words), like (whim) or (in this case). These sometimes obscure words and expressions become extremely popular as "in" or "out" identifiers among groups of people who love (the perfect word), particularly if they think you don’t know what it means. Another common phrase is “” (“Let’s get back to our sheep,” i.e., the subject—a quote from a medieval farce). Paradoxically, such in-jokes have often become clichés. In fact, that one was a cliché by the end of the play.But . The French, reluctant to (state the obvious), love the ambiguity of . Famous examples abound. Every high school kid knows the scene in Le Cid when Chimène says to Rodrigue: “” (Go, I don’t hate you at all). Serge Gainsbourg goes even further in his classic song “”: “I love you,” sighs Jane Birkin. “Me neither,” Serge replies. Of course he originally wrote the song for Brigitte Bardot.© Julia Frey, 2009Julia Frey’s hobby is deconstructing the French.
