Guernsey Press

Mind your language

Often rudely referred to as patois, Guernsey French is joining Welsh and Manx by enjoying an upsurge in interest. Mark Duncan met tutor Jan Marquis to find out more about the local language, its history and its following

Published

Often rudely referred to as patois, Guernsey French is joining Welsh and Manx by enjoying an upsurge in interest. Mark Duncan met tutor Jan Marquis to find out more about the local language, its history and its following ABOUT a century ago, people in Guernsey went to the choppe to buy c'moditaies and to gather the latest bagoull'rie (gossip) from the shopkeeper, spoken in Guernsey French, before pedalling home on a baice.

A conversation among advocates in St Peter Port was probably held in French, while down on the quay there were merchants striking deals in English with crews of supercargoes.

Guernsey was a trilingual island and it is strange to think that within the space of 90 years the English language has completely taken over. Changes in the education system, the Second World War and business ties have all served to draw us closer to the UK than many would like and on the way 'd'Guernesiais' and standard French have, among other things, become casualties.

Language is a funny thing. I am sitting here battering the keyboard into submission while thinking about words, but not really 'thinking' about them. They are all 'upstairs' and it is just a question of picking the right ones and putting them in order.

Goes it wrong at times and editors or subs wrists on me will slap. Generally speaking, or writing even, the words tumble out in the correct manner and it is happy days all round. I get paid and the subs retain their hair for another day.

Words. It is only when we look at the bigger picture and try to understand where they come from that we can begin to appreciate just how valuable and vital they are to our heritage. Language defines who we are and reflects our history and customs.

It gives the speaker a sense of community and belonging.

A guide book on Guernsey by a Mr Inglis, published in 1830, predicted the demise of Guernsey French even then, but rather like its speakers, the language has proved stubborn and simply refuses to roll over and die.

It is a constant source of amazement to the visitors whom I speak to that the island has its own language and that, before the First World War, it was spoken by most as the mother tongue, albeit in association with standard French and with a smattering of English thrown in.

Two hundred years ago, no local person would have understood English.

In recent years, Guernsey French has made something of a comeback, thanks to the efforts of people like Jan Marquis, whose enthusiasm for the language has led him to starting classes for anyone who wishes to understand the former tongue of the island.

At the most recent count, taken in 2001, there were roughly 1,300 people who spoke d'Guernesiais fluently. Of those, 70% were over 65, so it may come as some surprise to learn that Jan is 38 but speaks the language fluently.

The Imperial Hotel was chosen as the place to have a chat, it being one of the last bastions of the language and the one public place where you're more likely to hear it spoken than anywhere else in the island.

'My mother speaks it and I spent a lot of time in the western parishes with my grandparents. I used to spend my school holidays here. There was so much spoken that I made a determined effort to learn it,' he says.

Jan has more than a passing interest in linguistics, although his current work in IT is as far removed from ancient Norman French as you could possibly get.

A degree in French had failed to satisfy his thirst for knowledge and so he continued to research the language.

'Guernsey French is a similar language to that spoken by William the Conqueror and, in many ways, it is more akin to some Latin forms than standard French. It is not a cannibalised version of French at all. Had Normandy not been taken back, then France might actually be speaking Norman French,' says Jan.At that time, the power of the Norman duke, also King of England, rivalled that of the French king. Early French literature betrays definite Norman characteristics and it's therefore an important medieval language. But in 1204, John Lackland lost Continental Normandy to the French king in a process of asserting his power and language over what was to become the France we know today.

'There was a time when this region had its own distinct language as we did not have any pressure to conform, so it really is unique,' adds Jan.

Across Continental Europe and the UK, regional languages are gaining in popularity, not in an attempt to take over from the powerful and widely spoken ones but simply in an effort to keep traditions alive. And so, it seems, is the case here.

'I was initially approached by a group who signed up for a course in Guernsey French but then it was cancelled.

'I said I could teach the language and it has progressed from there.

'It came out of the blue, really,' he says.

In a bizarre turn, Jan took a course in teaching a foreign language.

'That is the twist in it, I suppose. Guernsey French is now a foreign language to most. People have signed up for a variety of reasons. Some are curious, for others it is because they feel it is in their roots,' says Jan.

Jan learned his d'Guernesiais from his family, as most people would have done through the years, yet there are no teaching manuals to refer to. He has made up his own lessons, which have taken an enormous amount of effort.

'I think there is a renewal of interest that is being echoed throughout Europe.

'In Brittany they now produce teaching material for their language, the Welsh have turned the tide and they're teaching Manx in the Isle of Man again,' he says.

There are those who consider d'Guernesiais to be a poor language and nothing more than a dialect or 'patois', but the very existence of a dictionary and the ability to study lessons would suggest otherwise.

'All language is primarily spoken. Take the origin of the word, language, which means tongue.

'It seems to be that only when it becomes standardised or written down it becomes a "real" language,' says Jan.

'Before English became dominant locally, if people couldn't speak French, they could almost certainly read it and understand it as well as d'Guernesiais and were able to understand laws and written administrative processes.

One is seen as the lower everyday form and the other a more formal one.

'This is not an unusual situation and it is what linguists term as diglossia,' says Jan.

The Occupation was one of the primary causes which led to the language all but dying out. Half the island's population was evacuated to the UK and included most of its schoolchildren. Family ties were broken and d'Guernesiais was abandoned in favour of English while children were in school there.There was a small rekindling of interest during the Occupation among people who were still here, as they could speak a language the Germans could not understand and that could be beneficial. But of course, all the children came back speaking English and either didn't need or bother to learn d'Guernesiais again because English had already entered into areas that once belonged to d'Guernesiais,' explains Jan.

'The Occupation was certainly a major factor, but I think it merely sped up a process that had started already.'

I have a pretty good grasp of French and can quite happily have a chat with Pierre in the bar tabac about the price of bread or whatever the French football team is doing, but I took a peek at some of the lesson sheets Jan had drawn up. I was stumped.

There are certain words that have familiarity, but there are others which bear no resemblance to French at all.

I was embarrassed by my ignorance - I had assumed that I would be able to pick up more than I could.

Then there is the pronunciation, which is far more guttural and disjointed than French.

'That is a problem, but with d'Guernesiais you really have to start at the beginning and forget any conceptions of French which you may have had. It's more Nordic or Germanic sounding and even the tenses are different,' says Jan.

'Where the French use an adjective after a noun, in most cases in d'Guernesiais it precedes it. "Ch'est aen rouge corse" translates as, "it is a red jumper", much as we would say in English.

'I do enjoy it, though, and it's very rewarding. If at the end of it people can hold conversations, it's great.

'The feedback has been good so far. People have come back and said they have spoken to a relative and they have said how well they have spoken the language,' says Jan.

There are regional differences in d'Guernesiais even between the parishes, but there needs to be standardisation in the language for teaching purposes.

General agreement on spelling and pronunciation is needed, but these are all things that are progressing locally.

'I think that what we need, if people are serious about it, is to have a language council to decide what we want to do, such as where do we adopt words from?

'The language borrows historically from French, but nowadays it borrows primarily from English,' he says.

d'Guernesiais is never going to take over from either French or English, but it is an important part of Guernsey's heritage that more than deserves to be preserved.

'I just want to add value to our linguistic diversity,' says Jan.

One thing is certain - if Jan has anything to with it, d'Guernesiais will remain stubborn for many years to come.

* For further information, contact Jan on 07781 166606 or email at lesjehans@guernsey.net.

* The Eisteddfod's Guernsey French classes will be held on Thursday at 6pm and Friday at 7pm, both at the Forest Primary School.

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