Vocab list: La Tête d’un Homme, Part 2

This is the second (and last) batch of unfamiliar vocabulary words I culled from George Simenon’s 1931 novel La Tête d’un Homme. These words appear in chapters 6- 12. In past vocabulary list posts I included only words and expressions I couldn’t recall even in context. In this list, I’ve included any word I didn’t think I would recognize and know the meaning of if I saw it in complete isolation. So the list is longer than usual.

See Vocab list: La Tête d’un Homme, Part 1 for the words from chapters 1-5, as well as my musings on the novel itself.

Here’s the list of all 50 unfamiliar words, sorted by modern word frequency.

expression (root)Frequency in 2010Frequency in 1970Frequency in 1930
machin1 in 19,0001 in 12,5001 in 16,100
bergère1 in 85,0001 in 88,3001 in 82,400
timbre1 in 116,0001 in 67,4001 in 29,900
ronger1 in 142,0001 in 171,0001 in 148,000
caserne1 in 177,0001 in 181,0001 in 171,000
infime1 in 183,0001 in 203,0001 in 188,000
cachet1 in 198,0001 in 140,0001 in 113,000
velléité1 in 275,0001 in 446,0001 in 335,000
sursis1 in 279,0001 in 218,0001 in 271,000
apparat1 in 308,0001 in 316,0001 in 333,000
fichu1 in 325,0001 in 617,0001 in 560,000
tare1 in 327,0001 in 253,0001 in 149,000
rafale1 in 332,0001 in 388,0001 in 554,000
épave1 in 346,0001 in 371,0001 in 345,000
piètre1 in 357,0001 in 678,0001 in 691,000
râle1 in 358,0001 in 450,0001 in 339,000
pignon1 in 398,0001 in 386,0001 in 233,000
décousu1 in 427,0001 in 686,0001 in 707,000
délabré1 in 516,0001 in 683,0001 in 650,000
flairer1 in 544,0001 in 450,0001 in 386,000
ployer1 in 634,0001 in 470,0001 in 342,000
tamiser1 in 640,0001 in 1,120,0001 in 896,000
fourvoyer1 in 732,0001 in 1,090,0001 in 1,190,000
boutade1 in 745,0001 in 523,0001 in 442,000
bigarré1 in 773,0001 in 860,0001 in 493,000
démiurge1 in 805,0001 in 1,110,0001 in 2,180,000
à son gré1 in 844,0001 in 391,0001 in 259,000
hécatombe1 in 993,0001 in 1,120,0001 in 1,070,000
tripoter1 in 954,0001 in 1,880,0001 in 2,990,000
bousculade1 in 1,020,0001 in 1,280,0001 in 1,240,000
persienne1 in 1,180,0001 in 1,170,0001 in 987,000
fêlure1 in 1,220,0001 in 2,170,0001 in 2,610,000
penderie1 in 1,430,0001 in 3,580,0001 in 9,600,000
rabrouer1 in 1,460,0001 in 2,740,0001 in 2,540,000
tintamarre1 in 1,750,0001 in 2,110,0001 in 2,340,000
venelle1 in 1,990,0001 in 3,630,0001 in 3,790,000
jambages1 in 2,350,0001 in 1,710,0001 in 1,370,000
bourrade1 in 2,500,0001 in 2,950,0001 in 2,820,000
dégringolade1 in 2,500,0001 in 4,910,0001 in 4,060,000
mercerie1 in 2,510,0001 in 949,0001 in 1,750,000
griserie1 in 2,590,0001 in 1,850,0001 in 1,380,000
polichinelle1 in 2,960,0001 in 4,040,0001 in 2,880,000
à brûle-pourpoint1 in 3,090,0001 in 4,740,0001 in 3,980,000
roulier1 in 3,930,0001 in 3,120,0001 in 2,390,000
veinard1 in 4,010,0001 in 8,270,0001 in 8,520,000
cabotin1 in 4,030,0001 in 2,900,0001 in 2,320,000
brouiller les cartes1 in 6,120,0001 in 7,690,0001 in 13,100,000
bitte1 in 6,460,0001 in 8,610,0001 in 13,300,000
se griser1 in 15,900,0001 in 11,000,0001 in 5,880,000
haut-le-coeur1 in 74,800,0001 in 132,000,0001 in 193,000,000
tache de son1 in 94,500,0001 in 111,000,0001 in 89,600,000

Word notes

  • un machin is a funny, slang word, quite common in modern speech and print. I somehow hadn’t registered encountering it before now. It is a close synonym of the words truc and bidule. The word means a non-specific object, akin to the English “thingy”, “thing-a-ma-bob”, or “what-cha-ma-call-it”. You use it when you don’t know or have forgotten the name for something, or when you refer to a large collection of disparate things. It is also used to refer to a person in a pejorative and dismissive fashion, like “what’s his name” or “somebody or other.” You don’t know the person’s name, but it’s really of no interest or importance. Simenon uses it in a police officer’s description of a run down hotel: «L’auberge est rien de luxueux… un machin pour les rouliers» (“the hotel is nothing fancy… a hole in the wall for truckers.” Note that the word machin should not be confused with une machine, which is more or less exactly the English “machine”: a reputable mechanical object used for sewing, cleaning, manufacture, construction, etc.

    I found multiple interesting treatments of the word un machin while researching, including this French Word of the Day post and this Français Authentique video:
  • taches de son are freckles. They are also called taches de rousseur or simply rousseurs. It took me a good 15 minutes of sleuthing to figure out why this expression aligned with its meaning. It turns out that son has multiple meanings: a third-person singular possessive pronoun; a sound that you hear; and … part of the outer envelope of a wheat kernel, what we call “bran” in english. Turns out this is a readily available product. Moreover, the processes of milling wheat into flour includes an intermediate product before final filtering where you have mostly flour, but with some specks of bran still mixed in. It appears mostly white, with some darker spots of bran. Thus, taches de son.
  • une rafale is a gust of wind, strong and sudden. Not to be confused with la rafle, which is the stem to which grapes attach. I learned that word during a winery tour in France. Curiously, neither of these seems to be most frequent meaning present in search results for these words. La rafale is also the name of a French fighter jet, while une rafle means a police round-up notably of Jews in World War II (the subject of a 2010 film) and of Algerians during their 1958-62 war for independence.
  • un haut-le-coeur is a shudder, typically of nausea or disgust. Also what one might experience after gulping strong spirits.
  • un cabotin is a ham actor, and le cabotinage means “histrionics”. The word comes from M. Cabotin, a charismatic 17th century French actor and charlatan promoter of miracle cures. The word is undoubtedly negative, though was perhaps rehabilitated somewhat by French singer Charles Aznavour in his song Le Cabotin.
Polichinelle marionnette from late 1800s.
  • Polichinelle is the French name of a character from the Italian commedia dell’arte theater tradition. It is Pulcinella in Italian. The character migrated to the marionnette and puppet theater, and into the English language as Punch (as in a “Punch and Judy show”). In modern French, the word un polichinelle can mean not only the character himself or a marionnette or doll in that form, but also an easily swayed, foolish person. However by far the most frequent use of the word is in the expression un secret de polichinelle, meaning “an open secret”: that which everyone knows but no one is supposed to speak of.

Common words, uncommon meanings

  • un cachet is a word with multiple meanings. It can be a stamp or a seal placed upon a document. That’s how Simenon uses it here («les pages [de son passeport] étaient couvertes de cachets et de visas»). But it can also mean stylistic originality (which is the meaning of the appropriated word in English). And the first meaning I learned for this word in school was “pill” or “tablet”. All of these derive from the common sense of “to stamp” or “to press”– pills are powder pressed into a form, seals are embossed marks pressed into a document. But there’s one more meaning which I don’t understand. Un cachet can mean a fee for a private lesson, or an appearance fee for a public performer or speaker. Not sure how that ties in with the other meanings.
  • un timbre has two meanings: the quality of a sound (or the sound itself); or, a stamp applied to a paper to certify a payment (postage stamp, tax receipt, etc.) After using un cachet for a passport stamp, Simenon uses timbre for the sound of a bell.
  • un pignon is both a pine tree and a small toothed gear in a mechanism (think “rack and pinion steering”). I’m not sure which meaning is more common, but Simenon used it in the tree sense here («un ruban de Seine aperçu entre deux pignons»).
Une bergère (sans Louis)
  • une bergère is a shepherdess, but was also the name of a popular style of low, spacious arm chair starting in 1725, growing popular under Louis XV. Given he was king for nearly 60 years, it’s quite likely such a chair was literally under Louis XV at some point

Vocab list: La Tête d’un Homme, Part 1

Earlier this week I finished reading George Simenon’s 1931 novel La Tête d’un Homme, the fifth adventure of the famous commissaire Maigret. It spans 135 pages in the Tout Maigret edition from Omnibus and took me just 3 days of reading to get through – summer evenings are good for that. I noted 101 unfamiliar words as I read, though I’ve tightened my standards for familiarity. In earlier posts I included only words and expressions I couldn’t recall even in context. In this list, I’ve included any word I didn’t think I would recognize and know the meaning of if I saw it in complete isolation. So the list is longer than usual. In fact it is so long, I’m going to split it into two posts so that I don’t tire of writing and my readers don’t tire of reading. I’ve posted the first batch of fifty below, with links to definitions from Linguee and word frequencies from Google Books NGram Viewer.

The novel is pretty good, though it still has that pre-Agatha-Christie style of setting up some exotic and even grotesque situation in advance, and then only revealing it to the reader bit by bit. There’s no puzzle for the reader to figure out, and the whole thing is so contrived as to be unbelievable. Add to that some melodrama and mustache-twirling level cartoon villain, and you’ll know what to expect. Yet with all that, it was a good book. The plot that unspools – an obviously framed man goes to jail protesting his innocence but going silent in the face of incriminating evidence; Inspector Maigret anonymously orchestrates the man’s escape in order to trail him afterwards; the suspect gives Maigret the slip and then re-emerges in unexpected ways; the true villain finally appears and loses to Maigret in a battle of wits – is entertaining and at times original. There’s even a fair number of action scenes that successfully generate suspense and surprise outcomes. And Maigret seems far from infallible, which is an important ingredient for a detective series. So all in all a good direction for the series to be going.

The unfamiliar words are disproportionately about positions body’s can be found in and verbs that change them: avachi (slumped), s’affaler (slouch, sprawl), jucher (perch), bosselé (dented, deformed), califourchon (stradling), un loque (a wreck), coudoyer (jostle, press up against), chanceler (wobble, falter), frôler (brush, nudge), entre quatre yeux (head-to-head).

Here’s the first part of the list, from chapters 1- 5, sorted by modern word frequency. Recall that the value is estimated by counting all words in all French books Google knows about in the given decade. For comparison, the masculine definite article le occurs with a frequency of 1 in 60, while all the union of all articles (le, la, les, un, une, de, des) taken together account for 1 in 8 words. .

expression (root)Frequency in 2010Frequency in 1970Frequency in 1930
écho1 in 29,1001 in 46,5001 in 57,900
rame1 in 144,0001 in 139,0001 in 125,000
cordon1 in 159,0001 in 122,0001 in 74,000
frôler1 in 183,0001 in 351,0001 in 391,000
greffier1 in 237,0001 in 125,0001 in 82,300
soulier1 in 243,0001 in 162,0001 in 143,000
broyer1 in 250,0001 in 210,0001 in 172,000
bribe1 in 266,0001 in 641,0001 in 845,000
broncher1 in 329,0001 in 365,0001 in 235,000
terne1 in 383,0001 in 304,0001 in 252,000
renifler1 in 403,0001 in 977,0001 in 1,500,000
grignoter1 in 437,0001 in 985,0001 in 1,590,000
chanceler1 in 497,0001 in 471,0001 in 392,000
pneumatique1 in 545,0001 in 207,0001 in 307,000
jucher1 in 570,0001 in 833,0001 in 839,000
pétiller1 in 602,0001 in 1,060,0001 in 884,000
éperdument1 in 699,0001 in 988,0001 in 731,000
ornière1 in 730,0001 in 746,0001 in 735,000
blafarde1 in 777,0001 in 967,0001 in 856,000
écroulement1 in 796,0001 in 568,0001 in 507,000
rixe1 in 857,0001 in 875,0001 in 793,000
carrosserie1 in 930,0001 in 757,0001 in 451,000
glabre1 in 1,020,0001 in 432,0001 in 224,000
affaler1 in 1,030,0001 in 2,230,0001 in 3,300,000
loque1 in 1,060,0001 in 769,0001 in 497,000
cuir chevelu1 in 1,330,0001 in 2,410,0001 in 1,100,000
froissement1 in 1,340,0001 in 1,260,0001 in 725,000
douille1 in 1,390,0001 in 995,0001 in 648,000
califourchon1 in 1,580,0001 in 2,480,0001 in 2,400,000
remorqueur1 in 1,660,0001 in 841,0001 in 317,000
débardeur1 in 1,690,0001 in 2,810,0001 in 2,820,000
avachi1 in 1,790,0001 in 4,440,0001 in 7,990,000
potelé1 in 1,830,0001 in 2,580,0001 in 2,220,000
planton1 in 1,920,0001 in 2,170,0001 in 2,010,000
crépu1 in 1,980,0001 in 2,190,0001 in 1,730,000
falot1 in 2,160,0001 in 1,370,0001 in 1,020,000
bosselée1 in 2,610,0001 in 1,830,0001 in 915,000
bock1 in 3,380,0001 in 3,380,0001 in 1,910,000
lorgnon1 in 3,560,0001 in 2,130,0001 in 1,150,000
sidi1 in 4,100,0001 in 8,580,0001 in 10,500,000
coudoyer1 in 4,760,0001 in 1,600,0001 in 779,000
cahin-caha1 in 4,830,0001 in 7,480,0001 in 8,690,000
se morfondre1 in 4,980,0001 in 10,600,0001 in 11,500,000
à portée de voix1 in 6,280,0001 in 13,900,0001 in 28,300,000
rapin1 in 7,260,0001 in 4,310,0001 in 2,510,000
sauterie1 in 9,020,0001 in 13,000,0001 in 8,490,000
triporteur1 in 10,100,0001 in 9,220,0001 in 61,700,000
entre quatre yeux1 in 25,700,0001 in 48,800,0001 in 71,900,000
pot de grès1 in 38,100,0001 in 32,800,0001 in 24,400,000

Word notes

  • un triporteur is a 3-wheeled cycle, with one wheel in back and two wheels in front on either side of a box or trunk for cargo. These were popular for delivering cargo or for peddlers to go around town selling their wares, though the word was super rare in writings of the time. The item and the word are still in common use in modern France.
  • glabre means “hairless”, either from shaving or from baldness. It was a fairly common adjective in 1930, but has been falling since 1950 and is now a one-in-a-million rarity.
  • cahin-caha describes a slow, erratic pace of progress; patchy, staggered, or struggling.
  • un remorqueur is a tug boat. Tug boats were increasingly big in France for about 70 years, reaching their peak mention just a few years before this book was published. Then there was a sudden crash (the Depression?) and things never recovered.
  • se morfondre is a great verb, meaning to languish or to mope. Apparently folks do that twice as often now as they did 90 years ago.means “hairless”, either from shaving or from baldness. It was a fairly common adjective in 1930, but has been falling since 1950 and is now a one-in-a-million rarity.
  • sidi is an honorific title for a man from North Africa, but also is an ethnic label: Commissaire! criait le sidi qu’on poussait vers la porte.

Common words, uncommon meanings

  • un écho is a sonic reflection, of course, but it can also mean a newspaper column dedicated to gossip and anecdotes about politicians, celebrities, etc. Here is was the vehicle for the paper to print a titillating anonymous letter claiming the prison escape was actually orchestrated by the police.
  • une rame is an oar or a paddle, but less commonly means a train: Des rames de métro ébranlaient un pont proche.
  • un cordon is a rope or string, typically for a curtain or bell. But it is also an archaic term for a rope used by a concierge to open the door of a building. In that context, «demander le cordon» means “ask to be let in”.
  • une bribe is a scrap, a snippet, a shred. This is not to be confused with the english “bribe”, a payment to induce an official to act against their duty. In French, the verb to bribe is soudoyer, while the noun for a bribe is the colorful pot-de-vin – jug of wine. Curious that the French bribe has steadily become more common, tripling in frequency in 80 years.
  • un pneumatique in modern parlance is a tire, usually shortened to un pneu. But in 1931 it referred to a message delivered by pressurized air tube. Paris had an extensive network of pneumatic tubes that remained in operation for over 100 years, from 1868 all the way through until 1984! I am old enough to have encountered such a system in the 1970s in the New England hospital where my father worked. I find the notion of a city-wide network astonishing.
Pressurized air tubes carried message-filled canisters throughout 1880’s Paris, and for 100 years thereafter!