"Matching Numbers" and Other Haphazard English Usages

 

Sugar with her vintage AC Ace. Matching numbers unverified.

Our new routine in the 7th Arrondissement occasionally takes us by Royal Automobile, a storefront broker-dealer of classic Jaguars, Porsches, Alfas, and other choice rides. It also acts as a modest shrine to America's greatest actor-Le Mans idols, Steve McQueen and Paul Newman.

I noticed that several listings for sale in the window specified that the cars had "Matching numbers." For car collectors, matching numbers indicates that the vehicle contains original major components such as the engine, frame, and transmission--the very same ones that it had the very same day it rolled out of the factory for the very first time. This makes the car more valuable to some collectors, for some reason.

What interested me more than the originality of the vehicles for sale (which does not interest me at all, since I do not collect, buy, sell, or underwrite vintage vehicles) was that except for the phrase "matching numbers" alone, the listings are entirely in French. "Numéros correspondants" or something similar would have communicated perfectly a vehicle's numeric originality. But something about the English usage apparently resonates with Royal Automobile's current and/or prospective clientele (and I note that the business is named "Royal Automobile" rather than "Voiture Royale").

"Matching numbers" is one of those instances where collectively--and most likely without seeking the prior approval of the Académie Franćaise--the French people opt for untranslated English to convey an idea that most likely would be understood clearly in their native language.

What I've noticed about English usages in everyday French life is that for the most part, they are used in instances that call for pleasure, light-heartedness or fun. Examples include:

• Happy hour. I have yet to see a bar, brasserie, restaurant or bistrot advertise drink specials during "heureux heures."
• Le week-end, as in "bonne week-end", or "have a nice weekend."
• Faire du shopping, which conveys going shopping as a recreational or leisure activity rather than the drudgery of "faire des courses" (which I actually enjoy at the farmers markets). "Faire des magasins" ("do the stores") potentially conveys the same same thing.
• Faire du camping. A supposedly fun activity.
• Snack. Self-explanatory, and sounds more appealing than "grignoter."

There are probably many others. I don't include names for foods, since it's common everywhere to refer to many dishes in their original languages. Specialties such as miso, pad thai, and vindaloo can be had over here--though steamed dim sum are confusingly referred to as "ravioli." However, two American exceptions which should have linguistic precedents seem worth noting. Hamburger shows up on the menus of many French bistrots, though haché de bœuf would work, provided the menu indicated that it was served as a sandwich. In fact, over here, the truncation to burger indicates the type of bun it's served on. The other exception is hot dog, also very commonly served here, though usually toasted under melted cheese. Perhaps France's history with Germany is still too raw for "frankfurter" to be the preferred nomenclature.

By contrast, common usages of the French that would be immediately understood by English speakers seem to have a gloomier, more menacing cast. For example, if you stated that "it was a fait accompli that the co-conspirators who shared a folie à deux about the election results would attempt a coup d'état," most English natives would get the gist of it.

Likewise, insurance policies may or may not cover damages caused by force majeur. Whatever the literal translation, it means you're screwed, probably twice.

Even the principle of detente suggests that things have gone seriously wrong between two parties, though they both have an interest in changing course. Situations that call for sang froid are almost never good.

I'm sure that there are enough counter-examples to prove me wrong. After all, a lot of "English" words are in fact French. Think of garage or chauffeur (sticking with the automotive theme). We effortlessly sauté and wear lingerie--rarely at the same time, I suspect. But those are so common that I doubt most people feel like they are thinking in French when they use them.

Some may smirk and invoke ménage à trois--literally a household of three--though many will recoil in horror at the suggestion, if not the term itself. Less ambiguously, suggesting pie à la mode will probably make most people happy. At worst, they may politely decline.