Little guide to pronounce everything

Nike's CEO, Philip Knight, has put an end to decades of bitter and heartfelt ambivalence and has clarified that the correct way to pronounce his brand is not the naik used by a majority of Spaniards, but naiqui , as said that someone who always came up when one hesitated over the name (take comfort: the British say it wrong too). It's not a surprise. That the correct pronunciation of foreign languages ​​does not fall within the Spanish virtues is something we knew long before the mayoress of Madrid, Ana Botella, made reference to the already famous relaxing cup of café con leche during the presentation of her Olympic candidacy. city. According to the International Business Index (BEI) prepared by the Global English Corporation in 2013, Spaniards fail in English. Our score is 4.43 out of ten, well below Belarus, Romania or Norway.

But the level of knowledge of other languages ​​has improved in recent years. Anyone over 30 remembers that there was an undefined moment in our recent history when we stopped calling Tom Cruise Tom Cruis and started saying Tom Crus. An achievement worthy of returning his name to Yoni Dep (Johnny Depp), formerly known as Yoni Dip.

But the problem does not end with Anglo-Saxon words: in a globalized world we are faced with names that look like the regurgitation of a drunken Scrabble board or that simply belong to a language we have never heard of. The solution is usually to Spanishize it or, what is worse, to pronounce it as an Iowa cowboy would, even though the term is Czech. There is, for example, the case of the painter Paul Klee, who (almost) all of us calmly call Pol Cli, when in reality we should say Paul Cle, because he is not English but Swiss.

As it is impossible to know everything, here is a short cheat sheet to match our reliable pronunciation in different social environments: everyday life, the World Cup, and a conversation/party where you pretend to be an intellectual.

Brands

-Louis Vuitton: Every time someone calls him Luis Vuitton, God makes a trunk from this French house more expensive. Better to call him Lui Vui-tton.

-Primark. For 99% of Spaniards there is no difference between the name of the affordable clothing chain and the infinitive of the verb primar. We could have adapted its conjugation to describe the act of buying in said stores (yo cousin, your cousins), but unfortunately, the chain is called Prai-marc.

-Givenchy. It should fall under its own weight. Given-, like the participle of giving in English, come as it sounds, and -chy as if we were finishing off the French house with the first syllable of Chile. Well no. If one wants to pronounce this name correctly, one has to submit to the twisted empire of Gallic pronunciation: Lli-van-shii.

-Loewe: It has nothing to do with the English Low, against all odds, nor is it necessary to spare any of the E's: the only Spanish luxury brand has a German name and is pronounced L-ue-be with the same w that Volkswagen or Rowenta and one or how closed it seems to u.

-Fairy: Even a Spanish professor of English would say fairi when making the shopping list out loud. But we should call it fei-ri (with the drunken r). The brand itself has understood that it is an impossible mission and in its advertisements it speaks of fairi with Cañí pride.

Versace: the fear of looking like a redneck who pronounces versace (like that, literally), leads to an even worse mistake: saying versace. The house is actually Italian, so shout it out to the world armed with an espresso: Ver-sa-che.

Reebok: Don't ask us why, but for some reason, throughout our lives, we've all said Ribuk with glee. But not. It's called Ribok.

ICON:

Geniuses and Intellectuals

-Michael Chabon: If you thought you could pronounce the name of the wonderful author of The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay or Young Miracles, there is a very good chance that you were doing it wrong. He is not Chabón or Cha-boun or Ka-boun as he has been called. The writer has Ukrainian roots and his name is Maiquel Shei-bahn.

-Roland Barthes: Every Audiovisual Communication student –or anyone traumatized by semiotics in general– has had this dilemma more than once. How should we call this French philosopher and anthropologist out loud? Well, it was not Rolán Barz as we still remember hearing a certain professor from the Complutense, nor is it Rolán Bartes as we tried to correct, daringly, this certain professor. His name is actually Rolán Bart, with the last name being the name of Bart Simpson. And speaking of Bart Simpson...

-Matt Groening. One can always refer to him as the creator of The Simpsons (and here we are, another correction: although in English they are called The Simpsons because families always add an S at the end, in Spanish they will always be The Simpsons; let's see if after 24 and a half years the message sticks), but if you are at a dinner with animators and cartoonists know that you sound something like Mat Greinin.

-J. M. Coetzee "What are you reading the latest from who?" Sometimes it's tempting to lie before launching into trying to pronounce this name. So much palatal effort for the smart guy from the room to come and explain to you that it's really Catzi, with the closed a. Hear him himself.

-Thomas Pynchon. If you want to pretend to be a scholar, don't talk about the author of Gravity's Rainbow as if he were a giant Moorish. Say Tómas Pínshan, as if you were from Cádiz and were complaining about the sea urchins.

-Jane Austen. We like to call the author of Pride and Prejudice after the capital of Texas (that is, reading her name as it would be read if she were from Murcia) but her last name, like her work, is more complex than it may seem at first. view. In the mouth of a Brit, Yein Ohstin (saving all the nuances).

-Rem Koolhaas. There are many pretentious people who like to pronounce the surname of this Dutch architect in the English style, Cul-jas. Those who prefer to resort to phonetic literalness to communicate, are victorious on this occasion: Coh-las, as is...

-Chuck Palahniuk. "Chac Po-lá-nik, nice to meet you, Fight Club is my work bible."

- Slavoj Zizek. The name of this Slovenian philosopher and sociologist who has focused his work on the study of popular culture is pronounced Eslavoj Yiyec, in case the conversation gets hot.

Sportspeople

Ognjen Vukojević: There is a special altar in the Sanctuary of Lourdes where sportscasters put candles so that Spain does not face Croatia in the World Cup and they have to repeat at breakneck speed and about 50 times an hour the name of this midfielder. Ok-yen Buc-oye-bich, approximately.

-Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain. No one denies that the compound surname gives a lot of packaging when asking for a reservation at a hotel or restaurant, but for a sports broadcast, it is not optimal. The British team defender is called Alex Ox-leid-Cheinberlen, not chanberlain, remember.

-Bastian Schweinsteiger: Bastian Es-bain-es-tai-ga (a pig breeder, literally).

-Reza Ghoochannejhad. In Iran they call it that and here, by putting the accent correctly on its name, we'll kick it: Ri-zá Guu-chan-ei-yad.

-Cesc Fábregas: One of the most wonderful things about this cultural richness of this Spain of ours is that we are incapable of even pronouncing the names of some of our own. The most cautious call the one from Arenys de Mar by his last name; the really daring try to pronounce his name (short for Francesc, Francisco, like the Pope, but in Catalan) and sometimes end up calling him Sex. Pronounced Sesk (see Bosnian selection).

-The entire selection from Bosnia Herzegovina: In the noblest Balkan tradition of avoiding vowels like Mormon couples and decorating the tops of their consonants with those kinds of signs that take two hours to figure out how to tear off on the keyboard, the 23 Bosnians are a tribute to the protagonists of Asphyxia, by Chuck Palahniuk (Po-lá-nik): Bičakčić, Kvržić, Vršajević… These names I didn't even try to pronounce. For his safety, pray that midfielder Sesar starts every game