Flic

And an iconic flick about a flic

Photo by Ryan De Hamer on Unsplash

Today’s New York Times Spelling Bee letters:

Art: Iva Reztok

A, C, I, L, T, Y, and center F (all words must include F)

Merriam-Webster says…

Credit: merriam-webster.com

Silly little dictionary! Don’t you know that flic can’t possibly be a word if The New York Times says it ain’t?

For further fascinating facts, check out the Spelling Bee Master.

*What’s your favorite dord from today’s puzzle?**

My Two Cents

Here in Spain (where I now live), today is known as “Movie Wednesday” (míercoles de cine) in many places. That’s because there are always special offers for theatergoers, either in the form of deep discounts or specials at the concession stand. I’m not sure why Wednesday was picked ––possibly because fewer people go to the movies that day than any other of the week–– but it works out well for today’s column.

Obscure origin

Our friends at Merriam-Webster tell us that flic was borrowed from the French word in 1899, the recorded year of its first use in English. Nothing else is offered in terms of the word’s origin. I guess that makes sense, considering the etymology that concerns the dictionary is the one related to the language its published in (English) and not the one of the original language (in this cae, French).

(As an aside, the collegiate version of Merriam-Webster defines flic as “a French police officer”, while the unabridged says it’s “a Parisian policeman”. So for the unabridged editors, if you’re a woman from any other city in France, you are not allowed to be called a flic. I mention this only in case you do not identify as male and wish to seek a job as a police officer anywhere but Paris. Like NBC says, “The more you know…”

After undergoing my usual intensive 15-minute online research, I ended up with a definite maybe in regards to the origin of flic as a French word for police officer. Wictionary gives to possibilities: (1) From earlier flique, probably a borrowing of German Flick, German criminal slang for “young man”… and (2) From earlier fligue, short for earlier fligman, a borrowing of German Fliege (“policeman”, literally “fly”). An online French dictionary seems to agree with explanation (1).

A few other options I encountered were:

• From flica, meaning “to slam”, which would be a variant of the Latin fligere “to beat” or the Germanic flinke, “to hit”, alluding to the power or attitude (some) police officers have with their weapons.
• Flige is a word for “flea” in German, Dutch, and Yiddish. It became a term for the police because cops were known to flit around, like a flea.
• Paris traffic cops were not supposed to carry guns but did wear the traditional shoulder cape. These capes had lead weights on the bottom hem, which the cops would “flick” as a weapon instead of a truncheon. (This explanation sounds very much like an urban legend.)
• The word was derived from “fliquedard” or “flique à dard” which were the “guet royal” (royal watch), basically an early police force, whose weapons included crossbows which would shoot “dards” or arrows. Over the centuries, the word changed to “flicard” and “flicaille” to ultimately just “flic”.

Finally, according to Wikipedia, the best English equivalent of flic is “cop” and, much like “cop”, the French informal term is not considered derogatory. However, adding the suffix -aille to the end of the word creates a term — “les flicailles” — that corresponds to “pigs” and is considered offensive.

In any case, if you happen to know why or how flic became “copper” in French, let us know in the comments section.

Le cinema

Jean-Pierre Grumbach was born to Alsatian Jewish parents on October 20 1917. By the time he turned 23, France had fallen to Germany during World War II, and Grumbach found himself fighting against the Nazis as a member of the resistance. It was then that he took on the last name Melville, in honor of his favorite American author, Herman Melville.

After the war, Melville founded his own film production company in 1946, and built his own studio three years later. His first films ended up influencing the directors of the New Wave, the innovative French film movement of the late 1950s.

His very personal 1969 movie about the resistance during World War II, Army of Shadows, was based on Joseph Kessel’s 1943 book of the same name, in which Kessel recounted his own experiences as a member of the French Resistance and fictional versions of other members.

Despite starring Lino Ventura and Simone Signoret, Army of Shadows was not well received in France. The movie came out just after the May 1968 events and was seen as a glorification of Charles de Gaulle, who was very much derided by the younger postwar generation. It took almost four decades for this film to be appreciated in both Melville’s native France and in the United States. That was too bad for the director, who died in 1973. You can read more about that injustice in Amy Taubin’s article in The Criterion Collection.

Melville became best known for his film noir influenced by American gangster films of the 1930s and 1940s. The director became so identified with this style that The New Yorker’s Anthony Lane wrote this about a 2017 retrospective of Melville’s films:

This is how you should attend the forthcoming retrospective of Jean-Pierre Melville movies at Film Forum: Tell nobody what you are doing. Even your loved ones — especially your loved ones — must be kept in the dark. If it comes to a choice between smoking and talking, smoke. Dress well but without ostentation. Wear a raincoat, buttoned and belted, regardless of whether there is rain. Any revolver should be kept, until you need it, in the pocket of the coat. Finally, before you leave home, put your hat on. If you don’t have a hat, you can’t go.

In 1972, Melville directed his final movie, *Un flic*, starring Alain Delon (cast against type) as a cop in pursuit of a notorious Paris thief who just robbed a seaside bank with three buddies. The movie also starred Richard Crenna as the main baddie, and Catherine Deneuve as the mistress of both Crenna and Delon’s characters.

Here is the trailer for Un flic, one of the most vapid previews for a movie I have ever seen in my entire life. On the plus side, it doesn’t tell you the plot of the entire movie ––including the ending–– like modern American trailers love to do.

[embed]

In 2008, a documentary called Code Name Melville came out about the director, his life, and his movies. For now it’s available in its entirety on YouTube.

Now you know. Next time you’re in the midst of a conversation about French cinema, you can try to impress everyone by asking them if they ever saw the 1972 movie Un flic. Don’t be surprised if people look at you with pity as they explain that film does not exist. This is bound to happen, of course… because the editors of the Spelling Bee decided that flic is a dord*.

You can check out my previous entry on another *dord **here:

[embed]Diwan Two alternate spellings rejected as one!medium.com

*What the heck is a dord, you ask? Here’s the answer:

[embed]'Dord': A Ghost Word One of the questions people like to ask lexicographers is this: Can you sneak something into the dictionary? Can you…www.merriam-webster.com