Extreme Onctuosité

I love the notion of faux amis (false friends) in the French language. Beware this label warns us; these words seem perfectly fine but they can turn on you and get you into trouble. Today’s word embodies this sense of deception.

Polly Vous Francaise’s recent post on the word onctueux zinged me with recognition and resonance. (note: I had the opportunity to meet Polly Lyman and hear her read at an American Women’s Group in Paris coffee gathering). In October I spotted an onctuosité % on my yoghurt container and was so struck that I saved the carton.

Onctuosity percentile? Shouldn’t that be a number reserved for politicians, sleazy ex-boyfriends and used car salesmen instead of yoghurt?

Then the term ‘Extreme Unction’ burbled out of my memory bank (which is usually overdrawn and hard to make a withdrawal from thanks to menopausal gridlock). What does the sacrament of the last rites have in common with yoghurt? In Extreme Unction, a priest anoints the dying person with holy oil. That’s it! The oil. Danone (Dannon in France) probably doesn’t want to advertise how oily its yoghurt is, so the percentile must represent the percent of fat, the creaminess quotient.

I’ve never seen onctueux/onctueuse listed among the usual faux amis, but it should be. In the United States, unctuous means Eddie Haskell: two-faced, fawning and flattering towards certain people, but sneaky, untrustworthy and dishonest behind their backs.

Beware the Seven Unctuous Knaves: Sleazy, Slimy, Sneaky, Slippery, Creepy, Cagey and Greasy.

Now Accepting Nomininations for Extreme Onctuosity:
1. Dick Cheney
2. Donald Trump
3. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
4. your nomination here