LAS LENGUAS INGLESA Y ESPAÑOLA de Delfín Carbonell

Una acción repetitiva y con frecuencia rutinaria se expresa en inglés como Lather, rinse, and repeat o simplemente rinse and repeat, que proviene de las instrucciones de uso de un champú que aconsejaban enjabonar, enjuagar y… volver a empezar. Por ejemplo:  Every day I turn my computer on, answer e-mails, talk to my boss… lather, rinse, and repeat the next day.  Todos los días enciendo el ordenador, contesto el correo electrónico, hablo con mi jefe… y vuelta a empezar al día siguiente. Abajo transcribo una citación de 2024: — “When Biden’s administration intones the same non-solution that has been on rinse-and-repeat for half a century…” Washington Examiner, January 25, 2024. US.

I have always held—don’t ask me why—that human beings do not change. This is a pessimistic view, I know, but experience has taught me to be rather dim about people’s characters, including my own. It so happens that language agrees with me. Our languages have preserved, for centuries, some wonderfully unflattering observations about human nature. Take the English saying: You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy. In other words, habits, beliefs, and ways of thinking die hard; we may change our surroundings, but we do not necessarily change ourselves. Spanish comes to my aid with an even older saying: Muchos entran en la corte y no la corte en ellos. Many enter the court, but the court does not enter them. The meaning is much the same: people may enter a new environment without allowing that environment to alter their essential nature. I have found these citations: — “You can take the boy out of the country, she thought, but…” Fantasy and Sc...

No hace mucho cuando las lavadoras caseras, llamadas en inglés washing machines , tenían dos rodillos con los que se escurría ( wring ) el exceso de agua, una vez lavada la ropa y antes de ponerla a secar. Había que ir con cuidado para no pillarse los dedos. Y de esto nació la expresión inglesa Go (put) through the wringer que aún perdura aunque las lavadoras de las que hablo hace tiempo que desaparecieron.  “She may have had the voice of a young girl, but her tone suggested a middle-aged woman who’d been through the wringer a few times.” ( Azalea, 01/01/2018. US.) Pasarlas canutas, moradas, negras mal, tiene el equivalente inglés de go through the wringer .  

 Decía Rabelais que "le rire est le propre de l'homme" y cito de memoria, y además creo que deberíamos reírnos más y más a menudo. Y en contra de lo que se piensa, los británicos también se ríen, y prueba de ello es que tienen muchas maneras de expresarlo. Veamos y aprendamos: Laugh one’s head off (kill oneself laughing, laugh oneself silly, die laughing, laugh like a drain, split one’s sides laughing, bust out laughing, have them rolling in the aisles) Partirse (troncharse, morirse, mondarse, desternillarse, revolcarse) de risa, reír a mandíbula batiente I laughed my head off listening to Benny Hill Me tronchaba de risa escuchando a Benny Hill — “The lady almost busted out laughing.” Obamaconspiracy.org, 10/2012. US.

 Si buscamos el significado de "brain freeze" en inglés, se nos dirá que es "a brief, sharp headache, caused by something cold touching the roof of one's mouth." Sin embargo, lo traduzco como "írsele a uno el santo al cielo", que tiene significado muy distinto. ¿Por qué? Porque el Cambridge English Dictionary también añade que es "an occasion when someone cannot think clearly, or cannot remember something." O sea: "írsele a uno el santo al cielo" simple y llanamente: Sorry, I had a brain freeze. What were you saying? Lo siento, se me ha ido el santo al cielo. ¿Qué decías? — “… the regulators go into a brain freeze because they don’t know what to do.” Mother Jones, March-April, 2013. || “Excuse me, I just had a brain freeze on that.” Meet the Press, 10/27/2013. (10:30 am). US.

Por nada del mundo, decimos for all the tea in China. The Oxford English Dictionary tiene una citación que dice: “I’m not going to stand in my girl’s light for all the tea in China.” También decimos not for love or money. I wouldn’t kiss that man for love or money. Y hablando de té, cuando algo no nos gusta, empleamos la expresión: it/he/she is not my cup of tea. Por cierto que, como todo, cambia: el five-o’clock tea pasó a mejor vida en el Reino Unido, pero donde tea significa también cualquier comida, especialmente al final del día. At what time are we having tea? Significa a qué hora vamos a cenar.

I often hear "We don't say that in English" and, in Spanish, "Eso no se dice en español" from the lips of native speakers who, as I have often said, are a language's worst enemies. I have also often paraphrased Ortega's idea that the horizon of our language is not the horizon of language itself. There is always more beyond the limits of our own linguistic knowledge. The average native speaker is convinced that if he or she has never heard a word or turn of phrase, it simply does not exist. Take the idiom to the manner born , for example. It may be rendered in Spanish as venir de buena cuna , ser de buena cuna , or ser de alcurnia . Here is a recent example: "Ian Fleming was to the manner born. His grandfather was one of the wealthiest merchant bankers..." ( Los Angeles Times , April 4, 2024). And, just in case a native English speaker still has doubts about its genuineness, here is another citation: "Geoff Cowan was, in many respects, to...

 I am a people watcher. When I walk down the street or sit on a park bench, I often gaze at passers-by, especially couples who, to my eye, seem oddly mismatched. Then I reflect on how English and Spanish express the idea behind matchmaking and the mysterious ways in which people find their mates for life. We often wonder how those two coming down the path ever got together, let alone married. Mystery of mysteries. A Spaniard might shrug and say, "Siempre hay un roto para un descosido," perhaps accompanied by a deep sigh. Or, "Dios los cría y ellos se juntan." In English, we may say that "there's a lid for every pot." Less commonly, "there's a shoe for every foot." My favorite, however, is "there's an ass for every saddle." In my A Phraseological Dictionary, English-Spanish , I document these expressions with bona fide citations, lest some smart-aleck imagine that I have invented them.

El idioma se adapta a los vaivenes y actitudes de la sociedad, como bien sabemos. Un hijo nacido fuera del matrimonio era antaño objeto de ostracismo y vituperación social. Hoy, que una mujer tenga un hijo sin estar casada ya no la relega al aislamiento social de otros tiempos. La lengua inglesa tiene —o tenía— una expresión chusca para describir esta circunstancia: Born on the wrong side of the blanket Hijo de madre soltera; ilegítimo; de padre desconocido. Mary married this guy, born on the wrong side of the blanket. Mary se casó con ese tipo, hijo de madre soltera. --“I was born on the wrong side of the blanket.” Anya Seton, Winthrop Woman (1958). --“… those royal romances which always seemed to involve births on the wrong side of the blanket.” Time Magazine (21 de febrero de 1969). Según una explicación popular, los hijos concebidos dentro del matrimonio lo eran "debajo de la manta", mientras que los nacidos de relaciones extramatrimoniales se concebían "al otro ...

Body language often communicates what words leave unsaid. A glance, a shrug, or a gesture can reveal our feelings more quickly and effectively than a carefully chosen sentence. One such gesture is to curl one's lip , that slight raising of the upper lip that conveys disgust, contempt, or disdain. Thus we read: "Sophie curled her lip in disgust" (Fern Michaels, Breaking News , 2012). Spanish has its own equivalent expressions. We may torcer el morro , arrugar el morro , or retorcer el morro .  Manuel Seco's Diccionario fraseológico documentado del español actual defines torcer el morro rather economically as "poner mala cara." A vivid illustration appears in Gonzalo Torrente Ballester's Filomeno, a mi pesar : "Primero torció el morro, después se echó a reír." The gesture itself is instantly recognizable. Whether we curl our lip in English or torcemos el morro in Spanish, we communicate disapproval before uttering a single word. Body language ...

  ZAPATO No llegarle a uno a la suela del zapato Not be able to hold a candle to Tú no me llegas a mí a la suela del zapato You cannot hold a candle to me — “... liado con una holandesa pecosa que no le llega a Cristina ni a la suela del zapato.” Fernando Sánchez Dragó, El camino del corazón , 1990. Esp. Saber uno dónde le aprieta el zapato Know where the shoe pinches ¡Él ya sabe dónde le aprieta el zapato! He knows where his shoe pinches! — “Para seguir motivado hay que recordar las razones por las que se empezó la dieta. Cada uno sabe dónde le aprieta el zapato; debo pensar en cómo me afecta...” El Mercurio, 15/10/2003. Chile. Zapatero, a tus zapatos Shoemaker, stick to your last! ¡Zapatero, a tus zapatos! Shoemaker, stick to your last! — “Imaz recordó el refrán de zapatero, a tus zapatos y, añadió, que lo que tienen que hacer los empresarios es...” El Correo Digital (Vizcaya), 31/10/2003. Esp. (From my ongoing A Phraseological Dictionary, English and Spa...

  En momentos de menoscabo, de desánimo, que son muchos y a menudo, pienso que no sirvo para nada. Hago balance y veo que soy un negado para casi todo, especialmente para las tareas manuales. En casa me tienen por un inútil. Hay mucha gente como yo, gente negada para muchas cosas, pero yo lo admito, que ya es algo. En caso de que usted, lector, sea como yo y quiera admitirlo en inglés, tendrá que decir: to be a dead loss at .  Sorry, I can’t help you. I am a dead loss at mathematics Lo siento, no te puedo ayudar Soy un negado para las matemáticas — “I am a dead loss at science.” Peter Lovesey, Bloodhounds , 2004. US. || "I am a dead loss, that's what I am!" Fantasy and Science Fiction, October-November, 1995. US.  

When a situation gets out of control or goes too far for its own good, we say it is beyond a joke: "Oh, come on, Easter, this is beyond a joke!" (TV Movie, Queen, 1993.)  "Ah, venga, Easter, esto se pasa de castaño oscuro."  Be beyond a joke Pasarse de castaño oscuro The way you treat your parents is beyond a joke La manera que tratas a tus padres se pasa de castaño oscuro — “In Suffolk, the number of potholes is now beyond a joke.” East Anglian Daily Times, 6 January, 2024. UK. || “Everybody has just got really humorous about it now because it’s beyond a joke. It’s absolutely horrendous.” Mirror, 20 February, 2024. UK.

Human beings seem naturally inclined to dodge responsibility and skirt the blame. When things go wrong, there is always something in the way: circumstances, family obligations, bad luck, society, health, destiny — you name it. Rarely are we simply at fault. Languages, of course, reflect this very human tendency. Both English and Spanish abound in idioms suggesting burdens, impediments, or invisible chains that prevent us from acting freely or successfully. We are not responsible, the expressions imply; we are weighed down by forces beyond our control. Take the English idiom an albatross around one’s neck , made famous by Coleridge’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner . The albatross symbolizes a heavy psychological or moral burden from which one cannot easily escape. Spanish offers several close equivalents: llevar una cruz a cuestas , llevar una pesada carga , or even tener la soga al cuello . “I wasn’t ready to wear my failure like an albatross around my neck.” -Haggai Carmon , The ...

  Say with an edge / Decir algo con rintintín (retintín) The English expression to say something with an edge conveys a tone sharpened by irony, irritation, or subtle hostility. Its Spanish counterpart, decir algo con rintintín (or retintín ), captures much the same nuance: a remark tinged with intention, often suggestive, mocking, or faintly malicious. Examples: David answered the question with an edge. David ha contestado a la pregunta con retintín. “The woman asks with accented English, now with an edge to her voice.” Pam Jenoff, A Hidden Affair (2010) “Y añadió con retintín: ‘Eres apuesto, sí, pero bajito.’” Terenci Moix, El arpista ciego (2002) In both languages, the emphasis lies not on what is said, but on how it is said: tone becomes meaning. The Spanish retintín often leans toward irony or sly provocation, while the English edge may range from mild sharpness to open annoyance. In either case, the speaker’s intention cuts just beneath the surface of the words.

Irse algo a la porra (carajo, cuerno, demonio, diablo, mierda [en bote] , a pique, al garete) Expresión coloquial española que indica que algo se estropea, fracasa o se viene abajo de manera repentina o definitiva. Admite múltiples variantes intensificadoras: irse al carajo, al cuerno, al demonio, al diablo, a pique, al garete , entre otras. En inglés, los equivalentes más cercanos incluyen to go to hell, to go to the dogs, to go to pot, to go down the drain, to go on the blink , así como to go to rack and ruin . Ejemplo: El negocio se fue al carajo → The business went to hell Documentación: — “El perro se fue a la porra.” Néstor Caballero, Las bisagras (1982). — “… el asunto se fue al carajo.” La Vanguardia , 16/12/1995. — “Todo se fue al cuerno.” El Mundo , 25/05/1996. — “… porque si Britania se va al garete…” La Vanguardia , 30/12/1995. 

Se quejaba mi hija Sandra de que no se ponía una falda porque se transparentaba. Traté de explicarle que antaño, y para evitar ese problema, las mujeres llevaban un "slip" o "combinación." Le hablé también de la expresión "your slip is showing" que mandaba a las mujeres a esconderse para que no se les viera la "combinación" o "the slip". La expresión me ha dado que pensar. El significado ha cambiado y "one's slip is showing" significa que "someone unintentionally reveals a hidden fault, embarrassing trait, or secret intention." Justo el modismo que necesitaba como paralelo al castellano "vérsele a uno el plumero". "David aparenta ser bueno, pero se le ve el plumero" o "David appears to be good, but his slip is showing." Por mucho que trate de disimular, se le ve el plumero o his slip is showing  y no nos engaña.    

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.”

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...

 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...