Self-owning peeve of the week: Compersion
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Email from Florent Moncomble [links added]:
A few months ago, the distinguished member of the Académie française Alain Finkielkraut was featured in a video where he deplored the loss of “a word which used to exist in the [French] language and disappeared from it”, ie. “compersion”. Apparently, little does he know that “compersion” was actually coined in the 1970s by the Kerista Community of San Francisco, in the context of polyamory, to describe the joy felt in knowing that your better half finds pleasure and happiness with other sexual partners! So that, far from being the old French word that he thinks it is, it is actually an English borrowing from the late 20th century… in other terms, the very nemesis of the Académie — not to mention the moral overtones of the term, quite the antithesis of the conservatism of that institution…
Laelia Veron, a colleague from the Université d’Orléans, Christophe Benzitoun from the Université de Lorraine and I worked together on debunking Finkielkraut’s claim for an academically informed yet humorous biweekly spot that Laelia has on French public radio France Inter.
Here's Finkielkraut's Le Figaro interview: Aliénor Vinçotte et Dorian Grelier, "Alain Finkielkraut: «La langue française s’affaisse et la nation aussi»" ("The French language is collapsing, and the nation as well"), Le Figaro 1/11/2023. I don't think I can embed the video, but here's a still from it, to give you some visual context:
And here's audio from the section on compersion, starting around 3:16:
Il y a un mot
qui existait autrefois dans la langue, et qui en a disparu.
Vous le trouvez
dans le livre de Gilles Kepel Enfant de Bohême.
C'est le mot "compersion".
La compersion
c'est le sentiment eprouvé
lorsqu'on se réjouit
du bonheur d'autrui.
Et ce n'est peut-être pas tout à fait
par hazard
que soit ce mot
est disparu
de notre vocabulaire.
There's a word
that once existed in the language, and has disappeared from it.
You find it
in Gilles Kepel's book Enfant de Bohême.
It's the word "compersion".
Compersion
is the emotion experienced
when you get pleasure
from the happiness of others.
And it is perhaps not entirely
by chance
that this word
has disappeared
from our vocabulary.
[Apologies for errors in transcription or translation]…
Finkielkraut goes on at considerable length about why the loss of this word reflects the collapse of the French nation into "une société de la rivalité perpetuelle" ("a society of perpetual competition") that has lost "la compassion Rousseauiste" ("Rousseauian compassion").
Societal collapse aside, it seems that compersion was indeed invented long after Rousseau's passing, and in America — see Marie Thouin, "When You Feel Jealous, Think About Cultivating 'Compersion'", Greater Good Magazine 9/19/2022:
The term “compersion” was coined in the early 1990s by the Kerista community, a San Francisco-based polyamorous group that has since disbanded. Although nonmonogamists were the first to add this term to the English language, the concept itself wasn’t new.
The American origin of this word is relevant because Finkielkraut starts the interview by complaining about the pollution of the French language by English borrowings:
LE FIGARO. – Quel est le mot qui, selon vous, devrait être supprimé du dictionnaire?
Alain FINKIELKRAUT. – Je vais en choisir deux: «liker» et «challenge». Pourquoi? Parce que «aimer» existe dans la langue française. Et «défi» aussi. Donc, ce sont des mots inutiles. Et cette invasion du globish me rappelle une merveilleuse remarque d’André Gide: «Un peuple qui tient à sa langue est un peuple qui tient bon.» La langue française s’affaisse et je pense que cela signifie aussi un avachissement de la nation française. Alors il faudra être capable de se reprendre et d’en finir, et d’écarter au moins «liker», «challenge», et pourquoi pas «streaming», «coaching», etc.
LE FIGARO. – What is the word that, according to you, should be eliminated from the dictionary?
Alain FINKIELKRAUT.- I'm going to choose two: "liker" and "challenge". Why? Because "aimer" exists in the French language. And "défi" also. Therefore those are useless words. And this invasion of globish reminds me of a marvelous remark by André Gide: "A people who hold on to their language are a people who hold on". The French language is collapsing and I think that this also means weakening of the French nation So we need to back up and stop it, and remove at least "liker", "challenge", and why not "streaming", "coaching", etc.
The book that Finkielkraut cites, Gilles Kepel's Enfant de Bohême, was published 10/6/2022 — perhaps a reader with access to this book can tell us how Kepel uses the word "compersion"…
And it's indeed ironic for a luminary of l'Académie Française to argue, by implication, that the remedy for the French nation's collapse is polyamory.
Here's the France Inter discussion:
Update — In the comments, Grant Barrett gives us the paragraphs in which Kepel uses compersion (here and here). In those contexts, the sense seems entirely consistent with the original Kerista usage — which makes it all the more interesting that Finkielkraut associates the word with emotions leading to social cooperation rather than competition.
As for J.W. Brewer's (correct) observation that "the hoariest Anglophone-world pejorative stereotypes about the French intelligentsia involve their alleged propensity for sexual immorality", Finkielkraut doesn't refer at all to romantic relationships, sexual jealousy, or anything in that direction. Instead, he depicts compersion, seen simply as pleasure in the happiness of others, as essential to the cooperative maintenance of Rousseau's social contract.
Paul Frank said,
June 9, 2023 @ 8:30 am
C'est bien fait pour sa gueule.
J.W. Brewer said,
June 9, 2023 @ 10:05 am
Certainly the hoariest Anglophone-world pejorative stereotypes about the French intelligentsia involve their alleged propensity for sexual immorality, so I don't follow why Finkielkraut's implicit argument would be "ironic" rather than "on-brand"?
Grant Barrett said,
June 9, 2023 @ 1:22 pm
Here are the three passages from the book where Kepel uses the word "compersion," which I have translated with Apple's translator.
Pareils épisodes d’acrimonie alternent avec des échanges banals sur des exigences financières, et avec l’énoncé récurrent de tes qualités supranaturelles, comme si elles contraignaient tes géniteurs à s’accommoder en transcendant les afflictions du couple. Parmi ces dernières, la moins étrange n’est pas l’intrusion de Germaine Mandrino, l’ancien amour des Années folles de Rodolphe, dont il impose à Milada la présence rue Boissonade, alors même qu’il n’est pas sur place. Ta mère s’en inquiète : « Que ferons-nous quand elle sera là ? Vais-je contenir mon rejet naturel ? » Pourtant, les premières appréhensions passées, se mêle à la rivalité originelle une compersion dans laquelle semble basculer la jeune femme qui brûle ainsi les étapes de son éducation sentimentale déjà initiée à la diable avec Coubine.»
Such episodes of acrimony alternate with banal exchanges on financial requirements, and with the recurring statement of your supernatural qualities, as if they forced your parents to accommodate themselves by transcending the afflictions of the couple. Among the latter, the least strange is not the intrusion of Germaine Mandrino, Rodolphe's former love of the Roaring Twenties, whose presence he imposes on Milada on Rue Boissonade, even though he is not there. Your mother is worried about it: "What will we do when she is there? Will I contain my natural rejection? However, the first past apprehensions, is mixed with the original rivalry a compersion in which the young woman seems to tip over, who thus burns the stages of her sentimental education already initiated to the devil with Coubine.
———
Vous atteignez à peine la maturité de votre vie, moi je termine l’automne de la mienne et l’hiver approche inexorablement, est-il imaginable que ce que je puis vous offrir eût un prix à vos yeux — au point que vous oubliiez vos amours d’antan ? » Cette jérémiade glisse dans la spirale d’un éternel retour depuis l’épopée des adamites sur la rivière Nežarka que décrivit Svatopluk Čech, en passant par les amours complexes avec Filča sous l’égide de Milan Štefanik, la passion malheureuse pour Germaine mariée à l’ingénieur d’Agordo, l’échange épistolaire avec Milada installée chez Coubine, mouvement du pendule sentimental de Rodolphe entre neurasthénie et compersion. Mais ce cercle vicieux où s’abîme un vieux monsieur que la fuite du temps aspire dans son tourbillon n’a guère inspiré sa jeune correspondante, qui tarde à lui répondre, motif à de nouveaux accès d’hyperesthésie : « Qui vous avait aimé autant que moi ? Était-ce votre mari pour lequel vous n’avez que dédain ? Était-ce quelqu’un d’autre de passage ? Je n’attends même plus de lettre de vous… je me prépare à mon verdict final, moi, le condamné. Un autre homme a compté et compte toujours davantage, votre corps lui a appartenu et vous lui êtes restée attachée, vous ne parvenez pas à vous déprendre de cette avanie. »
You barely reach the maturity of your life, I finish the autumn of mine and winter is inexorably approaching, is it imaginable that what I can offer you would have a price in your eyes – to the point that you forget your loves of yesteryear? This Jeremiah slips into the spiral of an eternal return from the epic of the Adamites on the Nežarka River described by Svatopluk Čech, through the complex loves with Filča under the aegis of Milan Štefanik, the unfortunate passion for Germaine married to the engineer of Agordo, the epistolary exchange with Milada But this vicious circle where an old gentleman who the flight of time aspires into his whirlwind has hardly inspired his young correspondent, who is slow to answer him, a reason for new bouts of hyperesthesia: "Who loved you as much as I did? Was it your husband for whom you have nothing but disdain? Was it someone else passing through? I don't even expect a letter from you anymore… I'm preparing for my final verdict, me, the convict. Another man counted and counts more and more, your body belonged to him and you remained attached to him, you can't get away from this humiliation. ”
———
L’intrigue se déroule en réalité dans le monde des intellectuels de gauche et dissidents communistes français et centre-européens de la décennie 1980. Elle met en scène trois hommes et deux femmes qui se retrouvent dans une maison de campagne normande rappelant l’atmosphère des chalupa tchèques où l’on s’adonne au libertinage. Les couples s’y entrelacent entre compersion et jalousie sur fond de fresque politique, en une ambiance proche de l’univers fictionnel de Milan Kundera. J’y découvris avec étonnement, au bas de la page 30, un patronyme familier. L’un des narrateurs, Juan, double de l’auteur, y vit une relation sentimentale complexe avec sa jeune amante Nadine et leur hôtesse Clara. Nadine mentionne incidemment une soirée passée au théâtre avec un tiers. C’est là que le personnage qui m’intrigua apparaît : « Croyait-elle vraiment, petite sotte, qu’il allait être jaloux d’une soirée avec Karel Kepela ? Émoustillé dans ses ardeurs languissantes par cette jalousie ? » Le lecteur apprend ensuite que l’individu est un metteur en scène tchèque, homme à femmes, dont Juan sait qu’il désire Nadine. « “C’est moi qui te donnerai à Kepela”, conclut-il. Elle eut envie de crier, de le battre […] Si tel est ton bon plaisir, pensa-t-elle. »
The plot actually takes place in the world of left-wing intellectuals and French and Central European communist dissidents of the 1980s. It features three men and two women who find themselves in a Norman country house recalling the atmosphere of the Czech chalupas where we indulge in debauchery. Couples intertwine between compersion and jealousy against a background of political fresco, in an atmosphere close to Milan Kundera's fictional universe. I discovered with astonishment, at the bottom of page 30, a familiar surname. One of the narrators, Juan, a double of the author, lives a complex romantic relationship with his young lover Nadine and their hostess Clara. Nadine incidentally mentions an evening spent at the theater with a third party. This is where the character who intrigued me appears: "Desty she really believe, little fool, that he was going to be jealous of an evening with Karel Kepela? Excited in his languid ardor by this jealousy? The reader then learns that the individual is a Czech director, a man with women, whom Juan knows he wants Nadine. "I'm the one who will give you to Kepela," he concludes. She wanted to scream, to beat him […] If that's your good pleasure, she thought. ”
Grant Barrett said,
June 9, 2023 @ 1:30 pm
Looks like the Apple translation skipped the part with "compersion" in it for the middle passage. Here is that translation from Google.
You are barely reaching the maturity of your life, I am finishing the autumn of mine and winter is inexorably approaching, is it imaginable that what I can offer you would have a price in your eyes – to the point that you forgot your loves of yesteryear? This jeremiad slips into the spiral of an eternal return from the epic of the Adamites on the Nežarka river described by Svatopluk Čech, passing through the complex loves with Filča under the aegis of Milan Štefanik, the unhappy passion for Germaine married to the engineer of Agordo, the epistolary exchange with Milada installed at Coubine, movement of the sentimental pendulum of Rodolphe between neurasthenia and compersion. But this vicious circle in which an old gentleman sinks, sucked into his whirlwind by the passing of time, has hardly inspired his young correspondent, who is slow to answer him, causing new fits of hyperesthesia: "Who had loved you so much? than me ? Was it your husband for whom you have only contempt? Was it someone else passing through? I'm not even expecting a letter from you anymore… I'm preparing for my final verdict, I, the condemned. Another man counted and still counts more, your body belonged to him and you remained attached to him, you cannot get rid of this insult. »
J.W. Brewer said,
June 9, 2023 @ 2:04 pm
The "sentimental pendulum … between neurasthenia and compersion"! I think "neurasthenia" was an affliction once much suffered by characters in certain types of English language novels but which had apparently been cured (or more likely, recharacterized) several generations before the 1980's setting of the passage translated here. (The google n-gram viewer shows usage peaking in 1908 before a sharp decline.) While "neurasthénie" may still be current in French, probably a different English lexeme would have been a more idiomatic translation.
FM said,
June 9, 2023 @ 2:19 pm
Laélia Véron and Christophe Benzitoun are also among the authors of a pamphlet published by Gallimard under the name ‘Les linguistes atterrées’ : ‘Le français va très bien, merci !’
https://tracts.gallimard.fr/fr/products/le-francais-va-tres-bien-merci
Along with other linguists, they have created an association devoted to countering the dominant declinist discourse around the French language and offering a scientifically informed view of the state of the language, respectful of its diversity and vitality. Everyone is welcome to sign and/or join the collective from their website https://www.tract-linguistes.org/
David Marjanović said,
June 9, 2023 @ 5:39 pm
Donc… ça date des années soixante-dix ou des années quatre-vingt-dix ?
[(myl) 1990s]
Julian said,
June 10, 2023 @ 7:53 am
The French language is 'collapsing'? Maybe a little exaggerated, non?
If this is collapse, what word would be strong enough to describe English after 1066?
What's the French word for 'peevery' anyway?
PS for a Scandinavian take on language collapse, go to YouTube and search for 'kamelasa'.
[(myl) Or head over to "Something is ___ in Denmark" (6/1/2007)…]
MarkB said,
June 10, 2023 @ 11:05 am
What's all this then? We French don't need your ultra-capitalist, imperialist American polyamory. We have good old French mistresses, merci beaucoup!
RP said,
June 10, 2023 @ 11:38 am
Aside from anything else, how can a word exemplified by quoting from a book published in 2022 be said to have disappeared from the language?
FreCha said,
June 10, 2023 @ 12:16 pm
La transcription des propos de Finkie serait plutôt :
"lorsqu'on se réjouit"
que :
"lorsqu'on serait joui".
[(myl) Merci — je l'ai corrigé.]
FM said,
June 10, 2023 @ 4:06 pm
David Marjanović said,
June 9, 2023 @ 5:39 pm
Donc… ça date des années soixante-dix ou des années quatre-vingt-dix ?
Some sources say 1970s, others 1990s. The Kerista community spanned the years between 1971 and 1991. The website created by a couple of former members doesn’t specify any date for the coinage (http://www.kerista.com/kerdocs/glossary.html). If anything, the fact that ‘some years later, an anthropological term 'comperage' was discovered by a Keristan in a book opened at random’ would tend to indicate that it occurred earlier than the 1990s, or else the community would have disbanded before the discovery of that book was made.