Some months ago, I sent a rather enigmatic email to a number of my American friends. My partner sent a French version of the mail to his French friends. The query read as follows: "Would you please take a moment to make a list of 15 animals, without asking for any explanations at this point and without thinking about your responses. Just make a quick list of the first 15 animals that pop into your mind." We added that an explanation would be sent as soon as all responses had been evaluated.
Whereas Americans responses were immediate, I'm still waiting for responses from the French end of the survey. My guess is that they'll never show up, so I've decided to finally divulge what our little cultural difference survery was all about.
We wanted to see if there would be a difference between what Americans put on a list of the first 15 animals that came to mind and what French people would put on such a list.
Our curiosity was prompted by an agument -- a heated one -- that took place around a dinner table last summer. I was the only foreigner; all the others were French. We had just visited an excellent local aquarium with my partner's small children, so the conversation naturally led to fish and animals. I mentioned that when we talked about animals, we weren't necesarily talking about fish as well, that we could be talking exclusively about mammals. That's not quite how I worded things, but you get the gist.
Apparently it was a huge gaff. I was immediately attacked, no questions asked as to the why of my statement. It was a hot moment -- hot, hot, CHAUD, and not because of the summer temperatures. I had a moment's reflection, then decided not to take the French reaction seriously. After all, they were probably just teasing. On what grounds could they be expressing any real criticism? Sometimes when we say "animals," we mean "mammals." Who doesn't know that? They had consumed too many pastis, too much rosé, or the heat was getting to them. I didn't see anything to get all steamed up over, nor did I feel like explaining myself. If they wanted to be that bornés (obtuse), it was OK by me. The stars were shining, the food was good, the wine chilled. I let it drop.
Erreur! The gauntlet was again thrown down the next day. Someone who had been at dinner told me that I must be absolutely stupid to think that "animal" did not always refer to "fish" as well. The French are big fans of superlatives. Curiously they are also big users of the word peut-être (perhaps).
I couldn't believe the accusation. I replied that in the United States, we sometimes used the term "animal" to refer solely to mammals. I called one of my daughters to ask her what she thought. In short, she had the same reaction as I: "animal" refers to mammals in some settings, to the animal kingdom in others. My Frenchies were not ruffled. They concluded, and not without some very real concern, that we must be victims of a serious family deficit. And they weren't joking. They chalked it up to our Mormon background. Or to the American educational system in general, assuming that American science and textbooks must be "different" due to our puritanical origins.
What???????!
How could these people draw such conclusions? They were intelligent, thinking, educated. I was aghast and spitting mad. Firstly, they knew me and knew that I wasn't an idiot, so why weren't they open to a more reasonable explanation to this "animal" question? Secondly, why would they think that a large portion of the western world would have a completely different scientific and educational take on what "animals" were?
It was obvious to me that there was a linguistic-cultural difference at the heart of the issue. And it turns out that I was right.
I got out two dictionaries: one exclusively French, published in France, one exclusively English, published in the United States. Ah, hah! The stupid American (aka me) read to the closed-minded French that the term "animal" is used in American English to refer to the kingdom of living organisms including fish but not plants AND that it is also used to refer broadly to mammals alone. The French dictionary doesn't show any such difference.
Be that as it may...
My French tablemates insisted that any French person -- that is, all French people everywhere, including little kids -- would automatically include fish on a list of 15 animals. Not one of their colleagues followed through on the survey, though, whereas, as I've already said but want to point out again, the Americans to whom the survey was sent all responded immediately. Most of them did not include fish on their lists. Out of 20 people to whom I sent the survey (one German-French-American, all the rest American), only 3 put "fish" or the name of a fish on their list.
I think the same would be true of French lists, despite the French dictionary's definition of "animal." The reason has absolutely nothing to do with scientific definitions, either. At least not in my opinion.
The reason is very simple. It spins around usage. We tend to separate fish-animals and mammal-animals into two separate sets in our everyday conversation. Therefore, what we're thinking of USUALLY when we say "animal" is mammal: cat, dog, bear, otter, giraffe, elephant, cow, zebra, etc. If we want to talk about fish-animals, we say "fish."
This story points to other cultural differences between Americans and French. For instance, in my experiences, the French assume at the get-go that the other person is wrong, especially if the other person is a foreigner, especially if the foreigner is an American, especially if the American is a woman. And this is the house that Jack built.
There's often no entertainment of another perspective. There's seldom any opening to the possibility that the French person may be wrong. This seems to be a European posture in general: your best defense is offense, so attack and don't yield. Like football. Great, I don't get that game either. Football may be an American sport, but try this tactic here and see how far it gets you. A French person is respected for it; a foreigner is criticized, so choose your battles well.
What happens if you persist and don't accept the French person's posture as the one and only one allowed on the field? What happens if you go even further and actually succeed in showing that you are not only correct but that the French person is wrong? You'll probably not get an apology for any insults slung your way during the conversation. In fact, you'll probably not get any acknowledegment of any sort. Instead the topic, now apparently insignificant and unworthy of continued discussion, is changed.
Here's another possible scenario: you recede or concede at the first sign of a confrontation. Americans often do this because arguing with a French person can be a decidedly uphill battle, the source of frustration and even angst. Try one of these tactics and you are often considered as weak, unintelligent, insignificant yourself and therefore not worth talking to. Lose-lose.
I've seen this happen between French people, too. It's a power game that I find particularly annoying for two reasons: one, I don't see what "power" is at stake and two, I don't like confrontations. Sometimes, though, more often with French women than with French men, you need to play the game and hold your ground, maybe even tread on theirs. Dumb.
Yes, Americans too know that fish are part of the animal kingdom. Our educational system does not teach us otherwise. However our language allows for another spin on the word. Language and culture are inextricably intwined.
Is there a moral here?
"Walk softly and carry a ...... big dictionary?"
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