A Look at Franglais in a Work of Quebec Fiction: noms fictifs

Brian

As Heller (2008) describes, culture in Quebec is something in which the government and Quebec society have invested a great deal of energy and money. As a result, the arts are thriving, and Quebec writers are able to take advantage of subsidized publishers, an enthusiastic public, and opportunities to export their work to francophone countries in Europe, where it is promoted as Quebec culture. This is in contrast to English Canadian writers, who have greater opportunity to see their work get recognized by the Anglo-American mainstream, but more barriers to publishing and less local support. I’m generalizing to an extent, but these are factors in why English-Canadian writers from Montreal are less likely to use vernacular than their francophone counterparts. 

noms fictifs, by Olivier Sylvestre, was released in 2018 and was a finalist for the French-language Governor-General’s award in fiction, among other prizes. While a work of fiction, the entire book is told in verse, another trait that is unusual for English-language fiction. Because of this structure, there is extra focus on language, which makes it a good study for both Quebec slang and franglais, or, as we could also call it, bilingual repertoire. 

While most of the stories are told in French, there are two that are almost entirely in English, when describing anglo characters. The stories are told from the perspective of a social worker, and the “noms fictifs” are given to the clients he works with, many of whom are drug addicts. In the first English-language story, “exile,” Sylvestre partially switches to French when the narrator reflects on his encounter with the other character of the story: 

et là je peux pas m’empecher de penser

no man can choose his path

ça c’est sûr

there is no such thing as choice

exile is a country you are forced into 

Another story, “toaster,” about a gamer who communicates in written English, goes from having verses completely in English to all French, and eventually they get mixed as well: 

on les observe à travers la caméra

we see randomshooter25 slowly opening 

et même si on peut pas dire que jean-guy et lui se

soient vraiment compris

the bird doesn’t look that frightened

and at a certain point he even grins

they have a small chat in the smoking room

en se roulant des cigarettes avec les botches du cendrier

and here’s how life goes parfois à répit-toxico

The last English-language story, “frog,” addresses tension between anglophones and francophones. “Skippy” tells the narrator:

this province hates anglos

anglos got nothing to do here

if you don’t speak French

you don’t get any papers

you don’t get the cheque 

you’re worse than an animal

dogs on the streets get more respect

no one cares if you live or die

me I’m heading back to the states 

ontario

alberta 

kahnawake

australia

right away

Finally, Skippy leaves the narrator with: “oh and you can just chug back your extra twenty-four/real deep/froggy.” 

With this, Sylvestre captures a bit of the enigma of Montrealers: proficient in English, immersed in the culture (the book has references to everything from Road Runner to Bonnie and Clyde) yet ambivalent with a negative perspective of anglophones. It is somewhat ironic that Skippy’s bad attitude is influenced by the types of conditions described by Heller, Allen, and Winer and that his main problem is his bitterness towards French Quebecois culture. 

References

Allen, D. (2006). Who’s in and who’s out? Language and the integration of
new immigrant youth in Quebec. International Journal of Inclusive Education, 10(2-3), 251–263.

Heller, M. (2008). Language and the nation-state: Challenges to sociolinguistic theory and practice. Journal of Sociolinguistics, 12(4), 504–524.

Sylvestre, Olivier. (2018). noms fictifs. Montreal : Hamac. 

Winer, L. (2007). No ESL in English schools: Language policy in Quebec and implications for TESL teacher education. TESOL Quarterly, 41(3), 489-508.