A Very French Essay
Reflections on learning French, Montaigne, and the art of trying
I’m learning French…again. I’ve been studying on and off for years. First in college, then on my own. This time I’m doing things differently—focusing on pronunciation first. Not sure if I’ll finally stick with it, but so far spoken French sounds more intelligible.
Knowing vs. Doing
The thing is, I’m not a newbie language learner. I speak Spanish fluently and am not half bad with Portuguese. Learning the correct pronunciation is part of the game. I’ve watched teachers, studied the diagrams, and formed my mouth to match.
Yet speaking French has always felt like a tongue twister. Reading, not too shabby. Listening…depends. But speaking? Want your ears to bleed? So I know I need to practice pronunciation. But as my late brother Brian once said, “We know what to do. Sometimes we just don’t do it.” (No, he wasn’t talking about speaking French.)
Essay as Essai
That tension reminds me of the modern French essay or rather essai: an attempt. Michele de Montaigne, who coined the term, wrote Les Essais to explore uncertainty. He wasn’t trying to convince anybody. And he wasn’t trying to prove a point. When he asked “Que sais-je?” (What do I know?), it was a genuine question, not rhetorical.
(This note is itself an essai.)
French as an Essai
French was a college requirement for my B.A. in Spanish. The logic behind it is sound: to understand the similarities between Romance Languages. But that didn’t make me fall in love with French. (And I would have gladly chosen Portuguese if that were an option.)
So I took two semesters and studied off and on, not wanting my studies to “go to waste.” Yet I’ve never gotten past A2/B1. Learning Spanish felt magical. It opened up entire worlds. So did Portuguese. With French, I feel like the key is stuck in the door. I’m forever jiggling it, hoping to pry it open.
Pronunciation Pitfalls
French vocabulary and grammar have their unique challenges. But if you speak one romance language already, they’re not too difficult. (That’s why reading is the easiest part.) Even listening can be fun when I’m familiar with the accent and it’s spoken slowly enough.
But pronunciation, at least for this English speaker, feels wholly unnatural. I have to twist my mouth and tongue to create these strange sounds that don’t exist in my native language. I won’t go as far as to say it feels gross...but certainly unnatural.
The French Experiment
Fast forward to my little experiment. I bought a French pronunciation course, and the method seems simple enough:
Start by identifying the different syllables in the words.
Learn to listen and identify the sounds.
Reproduce the easiest sounds and gradually move on to the more complex ones.
At the start of the course, I recorded myself reading a passage in French. I’ll do the same when I finish to compare the difference. I’m only partway through, but I’ve already noticed an improvement in my comprehension.
Une Ouverture (An Open Ending)
Is practicing pronunciation the key to finally achieving fluency? It’s too soon to say. Maybe my return to French is less about mastery and more about learning to experiment again. What do I know?
If you’re curious:
The course I bought: Flawless French Pronunciation
The course creator French Mornings with Elisa (YouTube)



The art of exploration is really magical. I enjoyed your sense of adventure here, how you are approaching a challenge. Learning new things, at any age, drives us not only to tackle obstacles - but also to ask new questions. A treasure.
I love that through this, I learned something new about someone it seems I have known forever. ❤️ I laughed when you spoke about how unnatural it feels. Something about that took me back to being a kid and trying to replicate accents for fun-french was rarely my go-to. 🤣