CARA DE FUNERAL, SOURPUSS, AND OTHER LEXICAL MISFORTUNES

 

I am so immersed in intellectual endeavors -writing, lexicography, scholarship- that I have been obliged to hire an assistant, a sort of secretary, a boy Friday. This morning, he appeared before me wearing a most solemn expression. No need for words; his face conveyed an encyclopedia of states of mind.

As we are in Madrid, the following came instantly to mind: cara de acelga, de perros, de perro apaleado, de vinagre, de palo, de malos amigos, de pocos amigos, de Pascua, de funeral, de velorio, de juez.

To give him a hint, I asked for English equivalents. After a few minutes, he returned with this list: surly (long, grim, cross, dour, glum, sullen, grumpy, hatchet) face, sourpuss.

Then I asked for citations, and he obediently produced these:

— “… donde a pesar de la cara de malos amigos del panzón de Hindenburg, las alemanas se toman algunas libertades.” Miguel Ángel Asturias, Bananas Slide, 1928, Guatemala.
— “Permanecía impávida y con cara de pocos amigos.” Manuel López, Un gorila con paperas, 2001, España.
— “¿Y entonces por qué llegaste con esa cara de velorio?” Mario Benedetti, Primavera con una esquina rota, 1982, Uruguay.

At that point, I dismissed him. Why should I tolerate an assistant who greets me every morning with the visage of a funeral?