Argot and Slang

INTRODUCTION.

Argot pervades the whole of French society. It may be heard everywhere, and it is now difficult to peruse a newspaper or open a new novel without meeting with a sprinkling of some of the jargon dialects of the day. These take their rise in the slums, on the boulevards, in workshops, barracks, and studios, and even in the lobbies of the Houses of Legislature. From the beggar to the diplomatist, every class possesses its own vernacular, borrowed more or less from its special avocations. The language of the dangerous classes, which so often savours of evil or bloody deeds, of human suffering, and also of the anguish and fears of the ever-tracked and ever-watchful criminal, though often disguised under a would-be humorous garb, cannot but be interesting to the philosopher. "Everybody," says Charles Nodier, "must feel that there is more ingenuity in argot than in algebra itself, and that this quality is due to the power it possesses of making language figurative and graphic. With algebra, only calculations can be achieved; with argot, however ignoble and impure its source, a nation and society might be renovated.... Argot is generally formed with ability because it is the outcome of the urgent necessities of a class of men not lacking in brains.... The jargon of the lower classes, which is due to the inventive genius of thieves, is redundant with sparkling wit, and gives evidence of wonderfully imaginative powers."

If criminals are odious, they are not always vulgar, and a study of their mode of expression possesses certain features of interest. The ordinary slang of the higher strata of French society, as compared with that of the lower classes, being based often on mere distortion of words or misappropriation of meaning, is in many cases vulgar and silly; it casts a stain over a language which has already suffered so much at the hands of the lesser stars of the Naturalistic School. A coarse sentiment, a craving for more violent sensations, will find expression in the jargon of the day. People are no longer content with being astonished, they must be crushed or flattened (épatés), or knocked over (renversés), and so forth; and the silly "on dirait du veau," repeated ad nauseam, seldom fails to raise a laugh. Our English neighbours do not seem to be better off. "So universal," says a writer in Household Words, September 24, 1853, "has the use of slang terms become, that in all societies they are substituted for, and have almost usurped the place of wit. An audience will sit in a theatre and listen to a string of brilliant witticisms with perfect immobility, but let some fellow rush forward and roar out 'It's all serene,' or 'catch'em alive, oh!' (this last is sure to take), pit, boxes, and gallery roar with laughter." It must be said, however, on the other hand, that the slang term is often much more expressive than its corresponding synonym in the ordinary language. Moreover, it is often witty, and capable of suggesting a humorous idea with singular felicity.

Argot is but a bastard tongue grafted on the mother stem, and though it is no easy matter to coin a word that shall remain and take rank among those of any language, yet the field of argot, already so extensive, is ever pushing back its boundaries, the additions surging in together with new ideas, novel fashions, but especially through the necessities of that class of people whose primary interest it is to make themselves unintelligible to their victims, the public, and their enemies, the police. "Argot," again quoting Nodier's words, "is an artificial, unsettled tongue, without a syntax properly so called, of which the only object is to disguise under conventional metaphors ideas which are intended to be conveyed to adepts. Consequently its vocabulary must needs change whenever it has become familiar to outsiders, and we find in Le Jargon de l'Argot Réformé curious traces of a like revolution. In every country the men who speak a cant language belong to the lowest, most contemptible stratum of society, but its study, if looked upon as an outcome of the intellect, presents important features, and synoptic tables of its synonyms might prove interesting to the linguist."

The use of argot in works of any literary pretensions is of modern introduction. However, Villon, the famous poet of the fifteenth century, a vaurien whose misdeeds had wellnigh brought him to the gallows, as he informs us:-

Villon himself has given, under the title of Jargon ou Jobelin de Maistre François Villon, a series of short poems worded in the jargon of the vagabonds and thieves his boon companions, now almost unintelligible.

In our days Eugène Sue, Balzac, and Victor Hugo have introduced argot in some of their works, taking, no doubt, Vidocq as an authority on the subject; while more recently M. Jean Richepin, in his Chanson des Gueux, rhymes in the lingo of roughs, bullies, vagabonds, and thieves; and many others have followed suit. Balzac thus expresses his admiration for argot: "People will perhaps be astonished if we venture to assert that no tongue is more energetic, more picturesque than the tongue of that subterranean world which since the birth of capitals grovels in cellars, in sinks of vice, in the lowest stage floors of societies. For is not the world a theatre? The lowest stage floor is the ground basement under the stage of the opera house where the machinery, the phantoms, the devils, when not in use, are stowed away. Each word of the language recalls a brutal image, either ingenious or terrible. In the jargon one does not sleep, 'on pionce.' Notice with what energy that word expresses the uneasy slumbers of the tracked, tired, suspicious animal called thief, which, as soon as it is in safety, sinks down and rolls into the abysses of deep and necessary sleep, with the powerful wings of suspicion constantly spread over it-an awful repose, comparable to that of the wild beast, which sleeps and snores, but whose ears nevertheless remain ever watchful. Everything is fierce in this idiom. The initial or final syllables of words, the words themselves, are harsh and astounding. A woman is a largue. And what poetry! Straw is 'la plume de Beauce.' The word midnight is rendered by douze plombes crossent. Does not that make one shudder?"

Victor Hugo, after Balzac, has devoted a whole chapter to argot in his Misérables, and both these great authors have left little to be said on the subject. Victor Hugo, dealing with its Protean character, writes: "Argot being the idiom of corruption, is quickly corrupted. Besides, as it always seeks secrecy, so soon as it feels itself understood it transforms itself.... For this reason argot is subject to perpetual transformation-a secret and rapid work which ever goes on. It makes more progress in ten years than the regular language in ten centuries."

In spite of the successive revolutions referred to, a number of old cant words are still used in their original form. Some have been, besides, more or less distorted by different processes, the results of these alterations being subjected in their turn to fresh disguises. As for slang proper, it is mostly metaphoric.

A large proportion of the vocabulary of argot is to be traced to the early Romance idiom, or to some of our country patois, the offsprings of the ancient Langue d'oc and Langue d'oil. Some of the terms draw their origin from the Italian language and jargon, and were imported by Italian quacks and sharpers. Such are lime (shirt), fourline (thief), macaronner (to inform against), rabouin (devil), rif (fire), escarpe (thief, murderer), respectively from lima, forlano, macaronare, rabuino, ruffo, scarpa, some of which belong to the Romany, as lima. The German schlafen has given schloffer, and the Latin fur has provided us with the verb affurer. Several are of Greek parentage: arton (bread), from the accusative a?t??; ornie (fowl), from ?????; pier (to drink), piolle (tavern), pion (drunk), from p?e??.

The word argot itself, formerly a cant word, but which has now gained admittance into the Dictionnaire de l'Académie, is but the corruption of jargon, called by the Italians "lingua gerga," abbreviated into "gergo," from which the French word sprang,-gergo itself being derived, according to Salvini, from the Greek ?e??? (sacred). Hence lingua gerga, sacred language, only known to the initiated. M. Génin thus traces the origin of argot: lingua hiera, then lingua gerga, il gergo; hence jergon or jargon, finally argot. Other philologists have suggested that it comes from...