This looks interesting and I might have to add it to my list of things to add to my next Wook order. In the caption for the second image, it took me a second to realise what “o 4° pastorinho” meant. It’s a Fátima reference isn’t it. The pastorinhos are the three kids who saw the Virgin Mary in 1916. Oh dear god, I hope that’s a joke because if he really said that it’s the most cringe thing ever.
Category: English
A Couple of Interesting Things Happening in London, One of of Which Might Not Be Happening, Who the Heck Knows?
Just by pure chance I heard about another two Lusophonic Occurrences here in London this week.
One is the Utopia Film Festival, which started yesterday and goes on till the twelfth. The films look quite serious and not exactly entertaining but if I can shake the lurgy, I might go and see one towards the end of its run.
And the other is a weird one. It’s a brand new international Portuguese literary festival in London, on Saturday the 7th. But hang on, haven’t we already had a brand new international Portuguese literary festival in London, FLILP, in June this year? I mean, I’m grateful for all these international Portuguese literary festivals you’re bringing to my town, but there must be other towns and other countries that need brand new international Portuguese literary festivals!
Anyway, it’s called Letras Lusas Em Londres and it was organised by Alcino Francisco, who I actually met and spoke to at FLILP in June, where he was one of the guests, and bought a copy of his book.
It’s surprisingly hard to find details of the festival though. I can see a few people on Insta refer to it, and even an interview with Alcino himself, but I can’t find an official account for the event on Insta. Alcino Francisco’s own Instagram account is dormant. If I Google the name of the festival, there’s a Facebook page right at the top of the ranking, but when I click on the link I land on some random video clip, so I think the page was deleted. This news article describes it, but there are two links to the organisers’ websites and both of them are deadlinks.* I can see there’s a reasonably full list of guests on this page, but nothing like this glossy publicity materials FLiLP put out in the run-up to their launch. It’s all weirdly hush-hush really. I dug around all over the place. I found another blogger who had done a couple of posts about it, so he must be better informed than I am, but, again, I’m not seeing anything linking to some central place on the Web where the organisers have set out a programme, or what to expect or… Well, anything really. The woman who put together FLiLP seems much better organised, as well as… Ahem… More original.
An old friend of the family has suggested we go together but even if I wasn’t full of cold germs, I don’t think I’d want to trek over there because I’m not even sure it’s actually happening. That’s how bad the lack of information is.
*By the way, it also contains the phrase “@s leitor@s” which almost made me want to take Solanium’s example and learn Spanish instead.
Ave Atque Vale, WritestreakPT
I just had a look in r/WritestreamPT on Reddit. It’s a forum I posted in more-or-less daily over a period of about two years. I assumed it would have just carried on regardless. When I left, I was having a bit of a crisis of confidence because I felt like I kept making the same mistakes over and over, and since there were only so many Portuguese volunteers around, I was hogging attention that other, less dim learners could have used.
I think the decline had already set in though. There were fewer and fewer teachers working. Even the Brazilian teachers left. People kept going anyway and didn’t seem to be bothered if nobody corrected what they write.
But when I looked today, the only recent posts were from a bot that posts the “Dia de Socializar” message each week. O scrolled down. There hadn’t been a human for 3 months. Even Solanium, a PT-BR learner, with an unbroken streak of 1182 days, hardly ever making a mistake, and so focused that he didn’t even make a big deal when his streak reached 666, just kept on going (I would have planned that post a month in advance I tell you!)… Even he had stopped. And just to twist the knife further, when I had a look at his profile, he has been posting in r/WritestreakES! Wut??? He’s learning Spanish now? I feel betrayed!, 😭
It’s a shame, but i have fond memories of the place. I guess I was lucky enough to be involved when it was in its heyday.
Blogger?
I just wrote to someone “I’m a language blogger” but I made a typo and autocorrect changed it to “I’m a language blocker”. It might have a point…
A Confusing Definition.
I’m still ill and missing David Fonseca as we speak. I woke up early feeling rubbish and was assailed by the definition of this word which was the answer to one of the word puzzles I do every day.
“que ou cavalo”? O meu primeiro pensamento foi que “que” se parece a um substantivo nesta frase. Ou seja existe um animal chamado “que”, e um alazão pode ser a cor dum cavalo ou a cor dum que. Uau… Mudei da página para a definição de que mas (como já adivinhaste) não existe tal significado.
Devia ter-me lembrado das outras definições de palavras que funcionam tanto como substantivos como adjectivos, como por exemplo “segundo”
“Que ou o que” indica que a palavra significa “que está logo depois do primeiro” quando for um adjectivo numa frase, e “o que está logo depois do primeiro” na sua forma substantiva.
Preguiçoso é mais especifica porque apenas os seres humanos pode ser preguiçosos*, dai “que ou quem”
Mas um alazão não é uma pessoa cor de canela, nem uma cadeira cor de canela mas sim um cavalo daquela cor, portanto “que ou o que” não tem de mudar para “que ou cavalo”
Meu deus, não preciso de tanta confusão hoje. Deixem-me descansar, portugueses.
*então os lexicógrafos nunca antes encontraram um gato?
You and Non-U
One of the first things we learn in Portuguese classes is the difference between the various ways of addressing another person; that there are different second-person pronouns for strangers vs friends: Você, Tu, or you can just flip it to third person with something like “O Senhor”. But we tend to get the impression that it’s just a linguistic rule with no further importance, as if it were a puzzle to be solved or a code to be cracked.
But there are cultural differences that underlie these kinds of distinctions: language has a social meaning as well as a semantic one. English doesn’t really have the same hard-wired social distinction*: if we want to be snobbish or arrogant or condescending we have to resort to using tones of voice.
You can catch glimpses of this social distance in literature and films: people taking offence at being treated with too much or too little formality (as in the picture above, taken from Gente Remota) or asking permission to use different pronouns (which happens near the end of Os Gatos Não Têm Vertigens). And it makes me wonder to what extent this creates a barrier between people, or makes them think of themselves differently, as a result of this very clear social distance marker being applied to them by someone else.
There’s a new blog on Say It In Portuguese that aims to shed light on the cultural dimension of these kinds of interaction. Its Part 1 in a two part series, and I’m looking forward to the second part. If you’re looking to deepen your understanding of Portuguese culture, head on over and have a look.
*This was probably less true in the recent past. The title of this blog post alludes to a distinction made by Nancy Mitford in the 1950s between U and Non-U English. The satire boom of the sixties and seventies punctured that pomposity. But even then, it was much more common when I was young m to hear people addressing each other as Mr So-and-So as a mark of respect or formality. That’s getting increasingly rare. We’re all tus.
Yet Another Portuguese Comedian Playing the UK
Well, i keep saying its a real vintage year for Portuguese entertainment in London, and I’ve for tickets to see David Fonseca on the 1st of December, but the following day another comedian, Hugo Sousa is playing in Leicester Square. It’s actually at the Hippodrome Casino which I’ve never been in because it looks tacky AF, but I’ll break the habit of a lifetime for the chance to laugh at 75% of this guy’s jokes.
He has quite a lot of material on YouTube so I can tune in to his accent before I go.
Why We Learn Languages
I spotted this comment under a video about C2 level language skills and I’d just like to say I fully endorse it as an objective.
This…
This nonsense with the automatically translated titles list happened again. I’d forgotten about it, so now I am enjoying chuckling about it for a second time.
Fado do Estudante
Vasco Santana is supposed to be a graduating student in A Canção de Lisboa, but he was actually 35 years old when they made it, so it’s all a bit Steve Buscemi…
Anyway, I decided to go back and listen to one of the songs again. I’m doing this one as a listening exercise rather than as a translation, because seeing that play on my first day in Lisbon reminded me that one of the difficulties of listening to old black and white films is that the quality of the sound recording means that a lot of the dialogue sounds muffled or flattened, so it’s quite challenging to follow. The songs are doubly hard because the words have to fit the rhythm of the music instead of normal speech.
Let’s see how much I can get purely by ear… I’ll put it in one side of a table then drop the real lyrics in next to it to show how far off I am.
NOTE – I’m leaving this as it is, but some of the footnotes and even the translation turned out to be wrong when I did a deeper dive into the song the following day, so if you want to know more about how that all happened, have a look at “Scavenging Song Lyrics”
| My Transcription | Actual Lyrics |
|---|---|
| Que nem quer assim de ver-me assim Que só deve ir-me degradante Ai que saudade sinto em mim Do meu viver de estudante Nesse fugaz tempo de amor Que dum rapaz é o melhor É um audaz conquistador das raparigas De capo ao ar, cabeça ao ___? Só para amar vivia eu Sem ??? e tudo mais eram cantigas De nenhum delas me aprendi De cha, lazer e de canja Até o dia em que pareci Essa fragura de franja Sempre tenir(?)-se em tostão Bati um ___ ou um rasgão Botar _____ um bengalão E artes, carago! Invade o ar com outras mães E a dançar pelos areais P’ra namorar, beber, folegar, Cantar o fado Fora agora com soledade Os calhamaços que lia Os professores da faculdade Minha amiga dá-me tremia E ouve as minhas recordações Que não tem fim dessas lições P’ra o então jardim do velho campo da Santana Aulas que eu dava e estudasse Onde estava nesta classe E eu faltava sete dias por semana* O fado é toda a minha fé Embala, encanta e nevaria Ou chega a ser bonita até Na radiotelefonia Quando é tocado com calor bem atirado e a rigor É belo fado e ninguém há que o resista É a canção mais popular Tem emoção p’ra nos vibrar E eis a razão p’ra ser doutor e ser fadista | Que negra sina, ver-me assim Que sorte vil e degradante Ai que saudade eu sinto em mim Do meu viver de estudante Nesse fugaz tempo de amor Que de um rapaz é o melhor Era um audaz conquistador das raparigas De capa ao ar, cabeça ao léu Só para amar vivia eu Sem me ralar e tudo mais eram cantigas Nenhuma delas me prendeu Deixá-las eu era canja Até ao dia em que apareceu Essa traidora da franja Sempre a tenir, sem um tostão Batina a abrir, por um rasgão Botas a rir um bengalão e ar descarado A vadiar com outros mais E a dançar nos arraiais P’ra namorar, beber, folgar Cantar o fado Recordo agora com saudade Os calhamaços que eu lia Os professores da faculdade E a mesa de anatomia Invoco em mim Recordações que não têm fim dessas lições frente ao jardim No velho campo de Santana Aulas que eu dava e se estudasse ainda estava nessa classe A que eu faltava sete dias por semana O fado é toda a minha fé Embala, encanta e enebria Pois chega a ser bonito até Na rádio telefonia Quanto é tocado com calor Bem afinado com fugor É belo o fado ninguém há quem lhe resista É a canção mais popular Tem emoção faz-nos vibrar E eis a razão de eu ser Doutor e ser Fadista |
*As the kids say, “literally me!”
Oof! Wow, I started this exercise about 3 weeks ago and have only just picked up the post and restarted. I think I must have given up because it was so disheartening to realise how little of it I could write down first time. The effect of my “palpites” is pretty surreal in places, because sometimes I am just transcribing sounds and not really being able to link them back to written words I’ve seen, so I was just inventing verbs left and right. Amazingly, one of them “Tenir” turned out to be real, although I don’t know what it means and neither does Priberam.
Obviously even when I did come up with a real word, I knew some of them must be wrong “E artes carago!” was clearly stupid, but I couldn’t hear it any other way. Others were positively surreal: “Invade o ar com outras mães” is a very fine example. But misheard lyrics are nothing new. I remember at secondary school thinking there was a Gary Numan song called “I’m a Plastic Bag” (It’s actually called “That’s too bad”) and there are whole blog posts and even sites dedicated to misheard lyrics, so I’m not too downhearted!
The fact that a lot of small words – mainly pronouns – escape my ears hasn’t helped. Mostly, I should have known better: the “o” in place of “lhe” in the third-from-last line, for example. But the most maddening one was the “se” in “Aulas que eu dava e se estudasse” was the key to unlocking the sentence. I knew something wasn’t right, because there was no reason for it to change from indicative to subjunctive like that so I should have guessed there was a se in there somewhere, and if I’d realised that I probably could have unfucked the rest of the sentence too. Ugh…
Luso 