Lampposts for Drunks

Some language learners find speaking easier than understanding others' speech. I am definitely in that category, perhaps because of the fact that I don't mind grammar, or perhaps the fact that I am a total narcissist. Nevertheless, comprehending a stream of spoken French may well be a special challenge: consonants are fond of detaching from one word and cuddling up to the next. This inappropriate behavior, I have learned, is called "liaison," with all the attendant jokes.

More generally, French speakers pride themselves on a very rubato kind of delivery. I often find myself   not so much listening to a stream of French as allowing it to wash futilely off me. "Arrgh!" I think. "Can you just slow down one eensy weensy moment? And also give me some kind of handle, or step stool, or in fact any kind of protuberance I can grab onto and step on board?"

I have come to learn that there are a few common words in French that are just so: an affordance for getting a latch-on. My term for these words, which I name here so as to assert a copyright on it, is "Lampposts for Drunks." In a sea of slippery sounds, these words are often said firmly enough, and stickey-outey, enough, to allow me to parse them and the several words following.

Here are three of my favorite Lampposts for Drunks so far:

Est-ce que. This is the phrase that introduces a yes-or-no question, and it is my favorite feature of French so far. It is easy to say: "ess kuhhh." Not only does it stand out prominently in others' French, but it also is a terribly useful crutch for new speakers of French. Getting listeners to understand you are trying to speak French is half the battle. Saying "ess kuhhh" declares: "Hey! I am about to try to ask you a question... and it will be in my best attempt at your beautiful language! Heeeeeelp!"

In my experience, French speakers do help.  But that's a topic for another day.

Chaque. For some reason, the French word for "each" is pronounced with the firmness of a hatchet coming down. Such a relief.

Glace. Ice cream! In France, ice cream may well be a food group. Perhaps the reason why the word for ice cream stands out in conversation may be due to the functionings of my subconscious. I find myself craving some right now, for example. But people say the word with emphasis and care. Restauranteurs probably pay special attention to the word because their profit margins on ice-cream desserts are excellent. Nevertheless, I've been eating a ton of ice cream here in France, to the benefit of my language ability and the detriment of my cholesterol count.