He-weasel started calling me a weasel almost 15 years ago–I have to admit that at first I bristled a little at my new nickname.
According to Meriam Webster the word weasel, as a noun, has three definions:
1: any of various small slender active carnivorous mammals (genus Mustela of the family Mustelidae, the weasel family) that are able to prey on animals (as rabbits) larger than themselves, are mostly brown with white or yellowish underparts, and in northern forms turn white in winter — compare ermine
2: a light self-propelled tracked vehicle built either for traveling over snow, ice, or sand or as an amphibious vehicle
3: a sneaky, untrustworthy, or insincere person
In the U.S. when we hear the word weasel we often think of #3, a sneaky,untrostworhty, or insincere person. That was not what he-weasel intended when he called me a weasel. He meant that I was clever, resourceful, smart, fearless, and able to confront and conquer things that were bigger than me. He also meant that I was cute, which is more difficult to claim than the other qaulities he conferred by calling me his little weasel.
Wildlife Educator and technician, Christine W. Cold in her article, “You little Weasel: Maligned and Misunderstood, Weasels Deserve a Closer Look” admits that weasels have an image problem. “We are quick to condemn them as corrupt, greedy little villains who sneak around and kill with deadly efficiency for no reason whatsoever. We’ve historically viewed weasels as pests, varmints or scraps of fur only suitable for a decorative trim on collar or cuff. It’s a wonder that weasels have endured such a hostile world. In fact, weasels are marvelously successful. They persist by being alert, inquisitive, tenacious and most importantly, small.”
It wasn’t until I saw the film Amélie that I discovered that I was not the only one to be called une Belette.
Concierge: Non, restez là, restez là ! Vous avez bien 5
minutes. Tiens, là, il était à la caserne. “Mado, cherie…” C’est
moi, je m’appelle Madeleine. “Je ne dors plus, je ne mange plus. Je
vis avec la certitude d’avoir laissé ma seule raison de vivre à
Paris. Je ne la retrouverai que vendredi en quinze en voyant
apparaître ma belette adorée sur le quai de la gare dans sa robe bleue
à bretelles.” Entre parenthèses, “celle que tu trouves trop
transparente.” …Vous étiez écrite des lettres comme ça,
mademoiselle ?
Amélie: Non. Je suis la belette de personne.
According to a post on Wordreference.com: “belette” or “fouine”, “(are) animals that are pretty, clever, but so annoying for farmers and so difficult to trap.” The post goes on to explain that the Frenh use the word “belette” to describe an attractive young girl, as beautiful and very hard to catch. The poster argues that when Amelie says she is nobodys little weasel, “she means she’s not in love affair with some one nor belong to any male, then her heart is free.”
Well, I am someone’s little weasel and after seeing Amelie, I began to embrace the nickname my beloved had given me. This was also the time when I conspired to create the anti-defimation of weasel league. Everytime I heard a politician or a corrupt businessman being called a weasel it hurt me all the way from the tipped of my whiskered nose down to my furry tale.
I never did much about trying to change the meaning weasel to its more positive associations until I started my blog, La Belette Rouge. It is my hope that through the blog I might change a few peoples minds–and that you, my dear readers, will associate the weasel with ability to weasel out which is the best mascara on the market. I hope, through my blog, to give the weasel a much needed makevover.
My pal, Pamela, at Frogblog wrote about the Big Word Project, in her post “Fun with Words.” And, I quote Pamela about The Big Word Project: ” It’s the brainchild of Paddy and Lee, two grad students in multidisciplinary design from Northern Ireland…Their project allows you to pick an English word and link it to your website or blog. Then, whenever anyone clicks a word on the site, they’re taken to your site. Forever.”
This was my chance. For one dollar a letter I could own the word “Weasel” and forever more when anyone clicked on “weasel” it would take the clicker to La Belette Rouge. I did this not out of any hubris–but as a gift to the much maligned Mustelidae in the hopes of in some small way making a dent in our serious PR problem. I also bought the word “chic” as in my mind chic and weasel go together like salt and pepper, peanut butter and jelly, or, more appropriately, champagne and escargot. It is my hope that someday, somewhere, when someone has made a particularly wise and cleaver choice they will choose to describe their behavior as weasily. Or, that when someone clings tight to their dreams and tirelessly and tenaciously works to make those dreams a reality, a kind onlooker will say of them, “she is such a little weasel.” Then I will know that my $6 investment at The Big Word Project was all worthwhile.
p.s. The beautiful drawing of La Belette Rouge was done by the witty and incredibly talented blogger, Baduade.
Ok, La Belette, i’m with you on the fabulous Weazel Bandwagon. Once of my best friends is also a weazel cause she is cute, resourceful and weazelly magnificant.
Cybil: Thank you for sharing the weasel love. And a weasel shout out to Cybil’s weasely friend. E plurubus musteladi .
That is just fabulous beyond words. Who knew that such a cute little nickname could evolve into the epitome of chic?
ps- just be grateful that you don’t have the nickname that LB gave me – Tex…though it would serve you well now!
Hey, Tex: Well, thank you very much. Leave it to the French to see that the weasel is a little beauty (belle-ette) I hope soon that the English language will discover the beauty of the weasel.
And, I love that your nickname is Tex! How did that happen?
How fascinating! I had no clue that “belette” was used in Amelie (my favorite film), nor its context, nor that it kinda breaks down into “little beauty.” Me likey. What a fortuitious name your hub chose for you; how very weasel-y of him.
I’ve been meaning to ask you: are you doing any of your “A Writer’s Paris” writing exercises in Austin yet — any extroverted writing, for example, or the daily writing? (The blog, obviously, counts toward the latter.) I was re-reading parts of this book at the gym yesterday to get my head back where it belongs. It’d be so nice if there were a way to be naturally so disciplined as never to let life get in the way of these important endeavors, and yet ….
Amities,
Marsi
Marsi: Over time my nickname has expanded. He-weasel often calls me “weasel-squeezel” or a platinum whiskered weasel with diamond tips. He doesn’t think he is yet a full weasel. He would describe himself as a W.I.T.: A weasel in training.
I have stuck with the daily writing practice. I have not done extroverted writing. But, I feel like I am ready to branch out and try some. I actually had it on my to-do list for the week to reread that book. It has been a source of great inspiration for me. And, like you, life has certainly gotten in the way of some of my writing plans. But, every day is a new day ( hey, and it isn’t even platitude Friday.
I think your hub’s already more of a weasel than he thinks. After all, “it takes a weasel to catch a weasel”!
(Every day can be Platitude Friday.)
;o)
Marsi
P.S. The #1 thing that helps me write is turning off my laptop. I write longhand first, then transcribe it later. The Internet poses such a distraction to me, alas.
Marsi: I will tell my He-weasel that–and it is true. No lesser creature could catch a weasel.
And, I think I will try extroverted writing practice with a legal pad instead of a laptop–less distractions. Thanks for the tip!
One small weasely step, one giant leap in mankind. I hope you make a history changing perception. LOVE!
Lynn: I am doing my part in changing weasel-y history. Thanks for your support!!
The entire weasel population should worship you as its savior.
When I think of weasels, I think of two things: of course, the book “Never Tease A Weasel” which we’ve talked about (I loved reading that book to my stepkids and then to step-grandkids, the girls always liked the turkey dressed up in the high heeled shoes!) and also I remember a REAL weasel got into the garage at my grandparents’ ranch in Montana when I was about 8 or 9, and my grandma chased him out from behind the chest freezer with a broom…it was a sight to see!
Happy Monday to you too!
I used to buy delightful lingerie at La Belette, a tiny shop in Neuilly.
It’s an evocative and provocative nickname!
I always though a weasel as a weasel, #1, since I’m not an English native, so this is new for me.
And I always thought a weasel as a cute animal.
Et La Belette c’est vous ma belle!
I think you’re doing it right, redefining your nickname and given it a good definition.
Oh I saw your comment in Psyche’s blog today, I think you should try to add colour. Today I also wore black and yellow, I’m in love with that combo, plus white (but I had to clash it wearing purple *laugh*)
Love the drawing!
xoxo mon amie
WendyB; Everyone has a cause , mine is the simple task of changing the connotation of a single world for the entire English speaking world. Small task, for a weasel.
Kelly: I am really so delighted that others know of that delightful book. Prior to blogging I had never met anyone who knew it.
And, I am amzed that you have actually seen a live weasel. My encounters with wesels have been of wither the stuffed or human variety.
Duchesse: I am off to google to see if that store still exists. I so hope that it does. I would love to buy some lingerie from Belette.
And, merci for seeing the beauty in my weasely name.
Seeker: You had it right in the first place. I think definition #3 is a ridiculous bastardization. Weasels are cute, smart and occasionally brave enough to wear yellow and black together.
I love the drawing too. So sweet of Badaude to do it.
It could be worse.
Frankly, I like the weasel especially since she’s wearing a cute dress.
Colleen: You have no idea! The college team that He-weasel follows is the beavers.
I am hoping to have a dress made for La Belette Rouge when I am in Paris.
So. Many. Jokes.
So to say “Oh, you chic and clever weasel” would be redundant, right?
Materfamilias: Yes, it is redundant; nevertheless, it is a sentence that I enjoy hearing and there are times when overstatement is the perfect thing to say.
Chic weasel works for me.
You were quite weasely in the writing of this post.
POP: Merci for seeing things my way.
Randal: C’est vrai!
I will happily be an officer of the anti-defimation of weasel league! Sign me up.
Sal: Love you!!!
I am changed forever in my thinking of weasels!
CG: Merci!!!:-)
I agree, we weasels must stick together. Here in Weaselville we use 'weasel' as an affectionate and loving term to refer to our children. First introduced to us by our Eldest daughter. Here's the whole story. http://worldofweasels.blogspot.com/2008/06/whats-weasel-you-ask.html