Monday, October 13, 2008
Only in Brussels II
It's official:
Shop-front signage in foreign languages is by no means peculiar to Brussels, of course, but it does seem particularly prevalent there, with whole rows of shops touting their wares to passers-by in English only.
Yet unlike the population of Belgium, Wisconsin, many if not most Brusselers don't actually know enough English to understand what's written on or over these shop-windows.
Presumably they at least can tell that it is English and are suitably impressed by the global aspirations of these mainly local businesses: the content is secondary, the English itself is the message, part of the window-dressing. Where practical information has to be conveyed the languages used are those actually likely to be understood by prospective customers - French and Dutch - and English doesn't get a look in, as this shop-front illustrates:
That's the private sector. These are businesses at the mercy of market forces and driven by the herd instinct that that instills. But surely a prestigious public institution such as the Palais des Beaux Arts would be able to dispense with the tawdry cachet of English signage? Quite the contrary: here even the most practical of information is provided in English only:
The Palais des Beaux Arts is of course closely associated with the surrealist movement, and with René Magritte in particular. So maybe it's something to do with that tradition. If French were still lingua grata the unopenable door could have read "Ceci n'est pas une porte".
93.1% of residents of Belgium speak English at homeOK, that refers to Belgium, Wisconsin, although an innocent from abroad might think it true of Belgium, Europe, after a stroll through the streets of Brussels, so pervasive is the presence of English on the exteriors of shops and cafés there.
Shop-front signage in foreign languages is by no means peculiar to Brussels, of course, but it does seem particularly prevalent there, with whole rows of shops touting their wares to passers-by in English only.
Yet unlike the population of Belgium, Wisconsin, many if not most Brusselers don't actually know enough English to understand what's written on or over these shop-windows.
Presumably they at least can tell that it is English and are suitably impressed by the global aspirations of these mainly local businesses: the content is secondary, the English itself is the message, part of the window-dressing. Where practical information has to be conveyed the languages used are those actually likely to be understood by prospective customers - French and Dutch - and English doesn't get a look in, as this shop-front illustrates:
That's the private sector. These are businesses at the mercy of market forces and driven by the herd instinct that that instills. But surely a prestigious public institution such as the Palais des Beaux Arts would be able to dispense with the tawdry cachet of English signage? Quite the contrary: here even the most practical of information is provided in English only:
The Palais des Beaux Arts is of course closely associated with the surrealist movement, and with René Magritte in particular. So maybe it's something to do with that tradition. If French were still lingua grata the unopenable door could have read "Ceci n'est pas une porte".
