German words in English

A couple of days ago I was reading What We Can Know, the latest novel by Ian McEwan, when I came across the word zeitgeist, which, as you know, is a term I use quite often in my classes. Inevitably, I thought of Susana (not her real name), a friend of mine with whom I had been discussing that very word. At the time she was reluctant to believe that such a German-looking word was really used in English. After a brief explanation on my part she was ready to concede that it was an English word, but speculated that it might only be popular among language freaks... Bizarrely enough, the day after our conversation, she heard the word zeitgeist in a Spanish TV series and simply couldn't believe it.

I must confess I was surprised myself. The presence of zeitgest in English harkens back to 1835. So it is safe to say that it is well-established in the language. In Spanish, however, the term is still restricted to the elitist spheres of academia... or so I thought. Its appearance in a TV show might be a sign that the tide is turning. Who knows?

Anyway, zeitgeist is, by no means, the only loanword that English speakers have taken from German. Wunderkind, for instance, is a noun that you may stumble upon every once in a while. A wunderkind is, essentially, a child prodigy which should come as no surprise as Wunder means "wonder" and Kind is, of course, the German word for "child". So, now you may wonder (pun intended) why an English speaker should feel the need to employ such a foreign word. Don't we already have the expression whizz kid, which means the exact same thing? The answer to that question is pretty obvious. We sometimes prefer loanwords because their impact on the listener or reader is different. Rendevouz and tryst have the same meaning but feel different. Consider the differences between lingerie and underwear, safari and journey, or aficionado and devotee.

Remember that, at the advanced level, the semantic content of an expression is only part of the full meaning it conveys. A sophisticated speaker is expected to think about the register of a word as well as its connotations and even its phonetic associations. Wunderkind happens to carry a certain sense of excitement and marvel that "whizz kid" just doesn't have. It is more dramatic and, let's face it, slightly literary. You can use it to refer to someone young (not necessarily a child) who excels spectacularly in areas such as chess, finance, music, literature or sports. Not an everyday word, I'm afraid.

Other German words that you may find in English are:

• Doppelganger (from Doppelgänger:"a person who looks exactly like someone else")
• Delicatessen (literally "fine foods")
• Angst ("anxiety and insecurity" as in the collocation teenage angst)

And one that I frequently use is flak. I know. It looks like a typo or a misprint, but it is an actual word. In fact it is quite popular in the media even if it has a rather dark origin.

Flak is an abbreviation of FLugAbwehrKanone (or FLiegerAbwehrKanonen), which means "air-defence cannon". These days it is mostly used to refer to heavy criticism directed at some public figure. You can say, for instance, that "the president took flak for her recent comments on immigration". If you don't feel comfortable with an expression that originated in WWII, just remember that the English alternative also happens to have militaristic overtones. Indeed, you can come under fire for doing or saying the wrong thing.

Is that it? Of course not.

In scholarly contexts you may come across words such as Weltanschauung ("worldview") or Ursprache ("ancestral language") and, in certain areas of the Unites States, you may use quite a few loanwords from Yiddish, which ultimately also come from German. Terms like schmuck ("unpleasant idiot") or shtick ("comic performance") don't feel foreign anymore while others (schlep, schmoe) will be easily understood in New York, but might raise eyebrows in Ireland or New Zealand.

The great thing about the German influence in the English language is its pervasiveness. In the U.S. the German word for "health", Gesundheit, is sometimes said when someone sneezes. Wanderlust (not frequent in present day German) designates the "desire to travel". The English word foosball (futbolín in Spanish) is actually an adaptation of Fuβball, which is what Germans call "football". And I don't need to explain words like kindergarten, poltergeist, kitsch or Oktoberfest, right?

One German export that some people seem to overlook, though, is the prefix über-, which English speakers use as a glorified version of "super-". Its first use was rather academic and referred to the Nietzschean concept of the Übermensch, the notorious Superman (or super person, to be more exact), but these days you can be übercool, for example, if you're too cool for school, or über-stylish if you're some kind of trendsetter. Similarly, something can be über-secret. It definitely sounds cooler than top secret, doesn't it? The prefix looks less intimidating when you realize it's the German equivalent of "over". By the way, the name of Uber, the famous transportation company, is precisely a version of this prefix. Understandably, the marketing department of the firm chose to dispense with the foreign-looking umlaut (¨). I can't blame them. The very word umlaut is German!

Spain's Music Day

 Hi you all!

I am aware that International Music Day is October 1. However, I grew up in Spain, where Music Day is observed on November 22nd, in other words, today. So I've decided to celebrate this special day by sharing an a cappella cover of a song that I happen to like. And, yes, there's a didactic side to it. The song deals with one of the experiences that most humans can relate to: breaking up with a romantic partner, which is something we discussed in a recent C1.2 class. Allow me to refresh your frazzled memory... We talked about the perils of the current dating scene, one of them being the dreaded experience of getting ghosted. Remember? No? Seriously? You don't remember I played Someone That I Used to Know by Gotye?

Anyway, the song you're about to listen to is about just that: being "erased". Enjoy the Havard Opportunes performance of Lizzy McAlpine's 2022 hit Erase Me and you'll understand that pop music can indeed be glorious. It just doesn't get any better than this. Absolutely mind-blowing.

Connected speech

Consider the following phrases:

Do you know what I mean?

Whether you like it or not

Bizarre though it may seem

They all have the same thing in common. They are the type of phrases that you don't have to construct. You just say them. These are sometimes called stock phrases or lexical chunks and the reason why they are so popular amongst advanced foreign language learners has to do with the fact that (as I explained in my previous post) they allow us to speak without thinking because, in a certain way, your brain can't tell the difference between a sequence and a long word. If you think about it, it makes sense, doesn't it? After all, how are you is a three-syllable sequence just like Hawaii. Pronouncing the first sentence is every bit as difficult as articulating the place name and those who don't speak English might not see the difference between a phrase and a word. I still remember the time a student asked me what festival I kept going on about in a class. lt took me a while to realize that she had misheard the expression first of all.

Anyway, the great thing about lexical chunks is that they allow a learner to sound natural, but there's an extra advantage: chunks also help you speak faster and, therefore, more efficiently. I know. Saying how are you is far easier than uttering a really long sentence such as I wouldn't go so far as to call them sleazy. Still, the key to saying those two sequences lies in the same skill: your ability to master transitions. 

In the video below I explain how you can do it.