Tuesday, May 12, 2009

guy hates english

(I’m American, but I’ve lived in France for the last nine years and speak fluent French.)

I just came across this book, written by a Canadian author. Michel Brûlé really doesn’t like England or the United States. I particularly enjoyed his blurb because I grew up in Amherst.

The title, Anglaid, is a combination of the French words for English (anglais) and ugly (laid). A rough equivalent would be Engly or Uglish.

Here is a translation of the author’s blurb, without exageration:

Like millions, I used to feel the incredible power of attraction of English. With time, I realized that the genius of the language, its English-American culture and its incredible attraction always resulted in a downward flattening. Beyond a decadent civilization characterized by a retarded and omnipresent cinema, by superficial music (also omnipresent), I came to understand that there was something still worse attached to this language and this culture: intolerance. This intransigeance has been manifested for centuries by incessant wars, but also by unparalleled racism: consider all those slogans like those of the Ku Klux Klan: “White Power”, “Speak White” or “The only good indian is a dead indian” (the guiding principle in the extermination of 40 million native Americans). If the Germans are ashamed of their Nazi past, the English have glorified Amherst, who first used biological warfare, Monckton, to whom we owe the first ethnic cleansing, and Kitchener, who invented concentration camps.

To crown all this, English-speakers are extremely narcissitic and ethnocentric: they only watch their own films, only read their own books, only listen to their own music, and almost always eat only their own grub—I daren’t call it food. The most sceptical will say that the French, for example, were the same, when France more or less controled the world. That is false: the French, in spite of their undeniable arrogance, were very open to the world. It is not an exageration to affirm that English-speakers are nothing less than the most ethnocentric people in the history of humanity.

I have made a revolutionary observation that could explain the superiority complex of English-speakers. Could it be possible that this complex is inherent in the language itself? I think so. In fact, the English language is a unique linguistic case. In English, “I” is written in upper case, and there is only one way to designate the other. When he speaks respectifully to another, a French speaker, Portugese speaker or German speaker puts him on a pedestal, but the English speaker, with his overdeveloped “I”, puts himself on the pedestal. This relation between the all-powerful “I” and the you, isn’t it one of subordination, of subjection? English is a language irremediably sworn to imperialism, and the negative leadership of English-American culture pushes the entire world into decadence and war. Continuing to push English as the universal language can only lead us to a dead end. It’s time to move on.

nice design makes me sick

I’ve been a professional graphic designer for almost twenty years. I’ve been feeling more and more lately that there is something offputting about most of what we consider to be good design.

As I mentioned in my post on comfy websites, When I see stuff that’s really great, top-notch design, my reaction is almost always “that’s not for me.”

Admittedly, this may say more about me than about the design.

But what I’m getting at is that good design (real good design, not pretty design) should be functional and inclusive. Too often, design by the best visual designers is shockingly well done but subtly pushes away the user/client/visitor. You feel like you’ve wandered into the opera by mistake, and you’re underdressed.

I guess the word would be pretentious, but I’m looking for something a little less negative… counter-inclusive. Often what we consider to be good design runs against the weaving of relationships with people.

For me, a design is good when it functions well mechanically and above all encourages the audience to jump in the arena and to splash some mud around.

My guess is that this is why the whole Web 2.0 phenomenon is so popular… people now feel like they can participate in the internet. They feel invited.

comfy websites

I live in two different apartments. One is a bit beat, a vacation place with older furniture, and the other is a classy city pad.

I realized recently that I felt much more chez moi in the vacation apartment, but I couldn’t understand why. I was largely responsible for decorating my main apartment, and I really like the furniture we chose.

Finally I concluded that some furniture is just more inviting than other furniture. If you have a clean, contemporary white sofa, it may look great while at the same time saying “be careful how you sit on me, don’t get me dirty”.

The vacation apartment feels like a place where I can just bang around without being careful; the furniture (and the rooms themselves) invite active participation. My city apartment, while much more beautiful, is a place where I tread lightly, where I can’t just flop down and hang out.

This brings me to a point that I will elaborate on in a future post: in designing a web site (and there are exceptions), it’s important to consider what feels inviting, what makes users want to bang around and try things out. It’s all to easy for us designers to fall into the trap of elegance and glittering perfection while subtly excluding the user.

The next time I’m designing a site, I’ll be looking for ways to make it more like my vacation place, where you come in and instantly feel at home.