When I desperately want to learn something, I read a
book. Sometimes it gets a little
ridiculous – I once read a book about ballroom dancing and expected to be able
to dance afterwards (it did not work).
Then there was the mathematics book I copied from front to back in the
vain hope of absorbing enough maths to get me through high school – I learned
nothing, but my teacher was so moved by my efforts that he gave me a D and I
managed to scrape through.
Given this troubled history, it will surprise no one to hear
that I read an entire French Grammar front to back, hoping – vainly, as usual –
to learn French grammar that way. The
book sported ‘Dummies’ somewhere in its title, so I figured it would work. But it did not. Instead of admitting defeat I decided that I
obviously was not dumb enough to learn anything from this grammar, and read
another one, an Introduction to French Grammar.
This book was even thicker and quickly got very complicated. While I managed to understand what they were
on about, I did not manage to remember anything! Then I reflected that it was a silly idea
anyway, because if I had to remember and apply 500 pages worth of grammar every
time I spoke French I would find myself very quickly without an audience.
I well remember a man I once knew, who tried to engage me in
German conversations. One could
positively hear how his brain was working to create a perfect sentence, and
although every sentence he enunciated was indeed perfect, I usually ran out of
patience before he had managed to make his point.
So I decided to give up the French Grammars as a dead loss,
and tried yet another approach.
I happened on this approach after I had bought a radio in La
Bourboule. It was one of those
complicated digital affairs, which requires various sophisticated operations to
set the alarm, find a radio station, switch an internal light on and off,
predict the weather, set the volume, and heaven knows what else. Since I am used to radios that just turn on
and off, permanently tuned to Radio 4, this presented me with a serious
challenge.
Having tried for an hour or so to get the thing going by
sole use of my innate wit, I turned my attention to the instruction manual,
which was in French, Spanish, and Japanese, which all elude me. What’s a person to do? I decided to knuckle down and learn French by
deciphering the manual.
Although I managed to learn enough to operate the radio, I
cannot wholeheartedly recommend this method, partly because the words thus
obtained have little application in everyday life – well, my everyday life, but
principally because the grammar is atrocious.
Apparently these manuals are usually translated by the pre-teenage
children of the production manager of the factory where these
electronic devices are produced, and while I have the highest regard for their
linguistic precocity I must regretfully conclude that it does not yet suffice
for the task on hand.
Lest you think that I malign them – after all I did manage
to get the radio working – I should add that I finally discovered a German and
English version on the back of the manual, and although these version were
pretty pitiful as well, between the two of them I managed to glean what
information I needed. That’s why I know
about the awfulness of the grammar, by the way; I was in no position to judge
the French version.
It is rather unfortunate that I cannot recommend this
method, because there are so many instruction manuals blighting everyone’s
life. Justifying their existence by
utilising them for linguistic purposes would really take the sting out of their
loathsomeness, but alas I cannot in good conscience advise this course of action.
Sighing deeply, I turned to the most pleasurable approach to
date.
How not to learn French - Lesson 9 – Spending time in Paris
Finally, I hear you say, a sensible approach to learning the French language. I should have done that in the first place. Go somewhere crawling with natives eager to teach me their language, and fluency will surely follow soonishly.
Hah!
Double Ha!
Cubed and to the power of n (I learned some math, you know!) Hah!
No, trying to learn French in
How not to learn French - Lesson 10 – Reading French Books
This was my last abortive attempt to learn French. Remembering how I had learned English all those years ago, I bought a few French books which I had read so often in English that I practically know them by heart, and settled down. The idea was that I would not have to look up unknown words all the time because, knowing the English version, I would already know what every words meant.
Well, it did not work that way. Although I read entire books, I learned very few words, because, although the two languages are very similar, they are not translated words by word, and anyway my memory is so truly sievelike that I forgot every word almost as soon as I learned it.
How not to learn French - Conclusion
I had comprehensively failed to learn French, despite having
used every method I could think of.
Incidentally, I have not described every attempt I made to learn French
in this little series. There were also
language CDs (three different types), newspapers, the language lab of the
university, reading the jokes in carambar wrappers, etc etc. Nothing worked. I had failed.
Now, I am nothing if not persistent. To me NO! is simply a shy person’s way of
saying yes, and a defeat is just a signal to try a different approach. But I had tried every approach! What could I do?
Stay tune for my new series, Learn French The Hard Way
