Having been learning how to read, speak and write French for two years, I thought I was pretty awesome at it. Nay, more than awesome. I was spectacular.
And then, in the second half of my French III course, it happened. It was pure madness. It made me doubt my abilities to comprehend French.
What was it?
A French book. Most notably, a French book for children, called "Le Petit Prince," by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. My French teacher announced we would be reading this book, and that reading it would challenge our knowledge of the French language and grammar.
But I wasn't really daunted: "A little kid's book?" I thought. "No problem. This is going to be easy."
Well, I was wrong. So very, very wrong, and for a few reasons.
The first reason was that, because there was absolutely no English in the book (it was all in French . . . shocking, I know), you had to highlight every word you didn't know, look it up in your dictionary, and then write the translation above the French word. Our French teacher had suggested using circumlocution in French to describe a word we didn't know with French words we did know, but honestly, that process was a little too difficult and only lasted about three pages.
The second reason I was so wrong about the "easy" process of reading a book in a different language was, simply, the time factor. To read only a page took about 30 minutes. Translating it took time and patience I hadn't even been sure I'd had before.
But without a doubt, the worst part of the entire book-reading challenge was the dictionary-less chapter.
Oh, yes. Our teacher told us we had to read an entire chapter of "Le Petit Prince" sans dictionary.
Now, usually, that wouldn't be so bad, seeing as how the chapters of the book typically lasted about two pages, pictures included. Yet as our class flipped through the chapter, we found, to our growing horror, that it was the longest chapter of the book, with few pictures. It was right then that the majority of us decided our French teacher was absolutely evil, and it was right then that we realized we really did love our French-English dictionaries and already missed them.
At first, reading this chapter was horrible. Stabbing myself in the eye with a pen seemed like more fun. But, after a few migraine-inducing paragraphs, it actually began to click. I actually understood most of the text, even without my handy-dandy dictionary. That, in itself, surprised me. After about a month of grueling translating and occasionally giving the French teacher glares, I was finally realizing the benefits -- one of them being that I could read and comprehend French much more easily.
As well, there was a revelation of the beauty of another language. Where our French textbooks had phrases specifically designed to be simple, "Le Petit Prince" had a writing style that was still simple, yet elegant. Plugging the text into an Internet translator jumbled the word structure and made it awkward-sounding; translating it yourself allowed you to see the true sentence structure, and the French sentences were beautifully constructed, even for a kid's book.
So, although I sometimes wanted to burn "Le Petit Prince," now that I'm done with it, I really, really appreciate our teacher making us read it. It was tough to get through, but at least I can say that I've read it -- in French. Which is pretty cool.
Charlie Anderson will be a senior at Christian Heritage High School this fall who enjoys the rain, funny movies and the French language. E-mail her at charliesaurus@gmail.com.
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