LAS LENGUAS INGLESA Y ESPAÑOLA de Delfín Carbonell

We may be patient, understanding, tolerant — even lenient — with our opponents, but there is a limit to everything, and sooner or later we must put an end to our forbearance. The formula for doing so is simple: “this is as far as we go” — or, in Spanish, “hasta aquí hemos llegado.” Phraseology, of course, provides alternatives. We might say “this is the end of the road,” suggesting that no further progress is possible. Or we might declare “the buck stops here,” a phrase associated with Harry S. Truman , which emphasizes the assumption of responsibility rather than merely the setting of a limit. These expressions are related, but not strictly synonymous; each carries its own nuance. All, however, may serve to halt impertinence, insolence, or downright impudence. In A Game with Dice (2004), Andrew Arnold writes: “This is as far as we go, I’m sorry.”

  Sé que todos los escritos sobre autoayuda animan a ser positivos.  Debemos también adoptar una actitud positiva al escribir. En las frases trataremos de ser afirmativos y evitaremos la forma negativa. Esta recomendación vale para cualquier lengua. Por ejemplo, la inglesa:   En vez de :                                                      Escribiremos : That is not true                                              That is a lie They are not tall        ...

Como sufro lo que en inglés se denomina bag lady syndrome —ese temor irracional a acabar en la ruina, cargado con las bolsas de la vida— estoy obsesionado con el dinero  en toda índole de aspectos. No recomiendo este síndrome a nadie, pero it is what it is , ¡qué le vamos a hacer! Todo me parece caro, y cualquier precio me suena a una barbaridad, una pasta, un Potosí, un Congo, un riñón, y siempre digo que lo que he comprado me ha salido por un ojo de la cara, por un huevo... Un mal vivir. Y lo peor es que expreso esta idea en inglés también, para más sufrimiento, y explico a mi familia y amistades anglófonas that I have paid an arm and a leg por algo, o   a pretty penny, a fortune, a bomb, the earth, a bundle, a pretty packet, a ton, a great deal. Si todo os parece caro, si queréis dramatizar el montante abonado, echad mano de esta lista en inglés. Sale gratis. De momento. — “Taking part in this event, and thus making a gift to the agencies, costs a pretty penny.” Portsmou...

 On Instagram, I read and hear how some peddle Spanish lessons, proclaiming: “Speak Spanish like a native!” Horrors, I say to myself in anguish. What exactly does that mean? And in my ignorance, I ask: what do they mean by “native”? I take it as read that those trying to teach the language assume we all know the meaning of the word. But do we? That Spanish politician in Congress who gets tongue-tied is a “native.” Another politician, who does not know the difference between the singular and the plural ( lo impuesto vs. los impuestos ), is also a “native” speaker. On TV, we hear “natives” blundering with prepositions, while others seem to ignore the true meaning of the words they utter. And plenty disregard the subjunctive. Those in Spanish-speaking countries who say “mu,” “pa,” “naide,” “na” are native-born. There are millions of “natives” one should perhaps avoid emulating altogether. Alas, those who try to acquire a foreign language remain at the mercy of what “natives” declar...

        Los cambios idiomáticos, sean de la índole que sean, no siempre son para mejor, y prueba de ello es el tránsito que desde hace algún tiempo se observa entre oír y escuchar .      Tradicionalmente teníamos tres verbos bien diferenciados: oír , percibir sonidos; escuchar , prestar atención a lo que se oye; y entender , comprender el significado de lo oído. “Oigo hablar” significa que mis oídos perciben a alguien hablar, sin que ello implique comprensión. “Escucho a alguien hablar” quiere decir que presto atención a lo que dice, aunque no necesariamente lo entienda. “Entiendo a alguien cuando habla” resume el proceso completo: oigo, presto atención y comprendo lo que se dice.      Sería una pérdida para el castellano que, por ignorancia o dejadez, se desdibujara la diferencia entre estos tres verbos.

 Have you ever felt the sudden urge to slip away from a boisterous party? Or that creeping cabin fever that drives you out the door and far from the family hubbub? To make yourself scarce, to quit the scene quietly—without ceremony, without goodbyes? English has a piquant idiom for it: to take French leave . The striking feature is not the act itself, but the finger it points. The French, we are told, are to blame for this lapse in manners. But the French are not so docile. They retaliate with filer à l’anglaise —“to slip away English-style”—squarely laying the charge at Britain’s door. And then come the Spaniards, who tilt the scale in favor of the Brits and say despedirse a la francesa —“to say goodbye in the French manner.” Once again, it is the French who bear the brunt of the discourtesy. In both French and Spanish usage, the act implies bad manners: one ought to take leave properly. In the United States, however, slipping out quietly may be seen as a considerate gesture—a...