Annexe 1
Construction du sens et transfert catégoriel : verbes dénominaux et autres types de conversion
Verbes dénominaux
1. Poison, p. 6 : There’s always the chance that I might be poisoning but I couldn’t just let the little bastard virus sit and multiply. (Autre type)
2. Arse, p. 23 : […] you are probably just busy or can’t be arsed to e-mail. (Autre type)
3. Balloon, p. 23 : […] I have ballooned to inhuman proportions.
4. Balloon, p. 32 : […] I have ballooned further. (Relation de comportement : Behave LIKE)
5. Blitz, p. 31 : I could have had it all blitzed in one go. (Les médecins et les traitements) (Relation de comportement : BEHAVE LIKE)
6. Block out, p. 62 : When your loved one goes, either you want to block it out, or you want to hang onto whatever you can… (Relation de mouvement : REMOVE)
7. Bloom, p. 45 : So now I have strict instructions that if anyone asks I am to say you are soon to be blooming with rude health. (Relation de comportement : BEHAVE LIKE)
8. Book, p. 27 : Have booked holiday to Majorca.
9. Book, p. 31 : […] have booked a room at a restaurant in St John Street.
10. Book, p. 31 : […] am booked in for CT scan of my chest.
11. Book, p. 36 : Shall I book somewhere?
12. Book, p. 80 : So we […] booked a flotilla holiday in the Sporades… (Autre type)
13. Book up, p. 36 : […] it gets all booked up. (Autre type + télicité)
14. Bugger up, p. 50 : By the time you’ve buggered up the morning, you might as well finish off your husband’s birthday cake for lunch. (Relation de comportement : BEHAVE LIKE)
15. Burden, p. 62 : Anyway, I’m not writing this to burden you – that’s the last thing you need. (Relation de mouvement : PUT INTO)
16. Cop, kop, p. 20 : You can wear it after I’ve kopped it.
17. Cop, kop, p. 20 : I would love to have your underwear after you’ve copped it. (Relation de comportement : BEHAVE LIKE ?)
18. Clutch, p. 21 : So I’m not clutching on to the miracle cure theory. (Relation d’instrument : USE)
19. Crop, p. 39 : All right, the chemotherapy means you have to hoover your hair off the pillow every morning, but it’s finally forced you to have your bush cropped, which would look fabulously Jean Seberg if you weighed less than 10 stone. (Relation de mouvement : REMOVE)
20. Dust, p. 85 : However I need only to refer to you to one of the pregnancy manuals dusting up my shelves… (Relation de mouvement : PUT ON)
21. End, p. 29 : Perhaps it’s better to end one’s life as a vegetable, rather than in pain. (Autre type)
22. End up, p. 78 : […] I ended up with a brain tumor, despite confident declarations from all and sundry that I was on the mend. (Autre type)
23. Face, p. 8 : I couldn’t face dealing with sorrow.
24. Face, p. 15 : Cut the crap. Face the music.
25. Face, p. 21 : (let’s face it, so much has been wrong there must be a chance of this one). (Il s’agit d’un traitement)
26. Face, p. 31 : But let’s face it, the temple has been completely desecrated already.
27. Face, p. 54 : […] but can’t face any more treatment. (Autre type)
28. Face up to, p. 21 : […] they don’t know what you really have to face up to. (Autre type)
29. Favour, p. 21 : I favour more optimistic targets. (Autre type)
30. Fob off, p. 31 : They haven’t been sitting on any results, it just took two weeks to convince me I needed a CT scan because X-rays aren’t sensitive enough. I think from now on they won’t fob me off. (Relation de mouvement : REMOVE)
31. Fret, p. 23 : The problem with you being ill is that when I don’t hear from you, I fret and worry, almost completley needlessly. (Relation de comportement : BEHAVE LIKE)
32. Garden-ING, p. 63 : Beyond the day mark I think it would have been like a weekend – pottering about, gardening, going to our favourite pub. (Autre type)
33. Gun down, p. 29 : Anyway, more fucking treatment looms, though not before I gun down the entire oncology department. (Relation d’instrument : USE)
34. Grieve, p. 61 : Make yourself real in your letters to your children – they will grieve, they must grieve, but by knowing you as a real person, warts and all, it will help their recovery… (Autre type)
35. Harbour, p. 21 : That said, I do harbour a number of fantasies. (Relation de mouvement : PUT IN)
36. Head off, p. 68 : (I think you headed off to the High, while I went to Bishop Kirk and Abingdon). (Relation de mouvement)
37. Hobnob, p. 11 : […] you are the only person I know who hobnobs with royalty in quack waiting rooms. (Autre type)
38. Hoover, p. 39 : All right, the chemotherapy means you have to hoover your hair off the pillow every morning… (Relation d’instrument : USE)
39. Kid, p. 32 : I kid you not. (Relation de comportement : BEHAVE LIKE)
40. Pack in, p. 39 : Still, it ain’t over till the fat lady’s thin. Or until her liver packs in. Or something. (Autre type)
41. Peg, p. 34 : The Movie would be great. Maybe you should make it after I’ve pegged it. (Autre type)
42. Peter out, p. 32 : So your mad last para remains unread – aren’t endings a bugger? I always peter out oddly. (Relation de comportement : BEHAVE LIKE)
43. Pin, p. 66 : I have your articles pinned on my wall in the office as they keep me going. (Relation d’instrument : USE)
44. Pump, p. 34 : Do you really have to take one of your drugs with grapefruit? Sound dangerously complementary to me. Mind you, Guy’s are pumping me full of yew tree needles. (Relation d’instrument : USE)
45. Ram, p. 38 : You ram a non-organic carrot up the arse of the next person who advises you to start drinking homoepathic frogs’ urine. (Relation d’instrument : USE)
46. Rule out, p. 35 : Sadly, I am a Top London Atheist but death-bed conversion to Judaism not yet ruled out. (Relation de mouvement : REMOVE)
47. Snog, p. 33 : Now I am very worried about who else I may have inadvertently snogged – Michael Cook? (Autre type)
48. Spirit off, p. 80 : I was eighteen and in my first year of UCL when Dad was first spirited off to hospital under mysterious circumstances. (Relation de mouvement : PUT INTO)
49. Stomach, p. 77 : I embarked on a weekly Chinese herb and acupuncture regime (£50 a week), which involved wolfing 24 horse tablets a day and drinking as much horrid tea as I could stomach. (Relation de mouvement : PUT INTO)
50. Toy, p. 49 : Instead of toying with a little home-made broth at lunchtime, I have developed an obsession for crisps. (Relation de comportement : BEHAVE TOWARDS)
51. Update onseself, p. 65 : I’ve tried to get hold of series 4 of E.R., so you could update yourself on the romantic shenanigans of gorgeous George and Nurse Hathaway. (Autre type)
52. Water, p. 59 : […] Matt never waters the garden… (Relation de mouvement : PUT ON)
53. Wheel, p. 72 : On really bad days, a listless young man would also be in the basement waiting area, wheeled to and from the ward by orderlies wearing rubber aprons and gloves, which I interpreted as cancer plus some God-awful infectious disease. (Relation d’instrument : USE)
54. Woolf, p. 77 : I embarked on a weekly Chinese herb and acupuncture regime (£50 a week), which involved wolfing 24 horse tablets a day and drinking as much horrid tea as I could stomach. (relation de comportement : BEHAVE LIKE)
Autres conversions
1. Go, N, p. 18 : But I’d like to straight there from the Departure lounge, and not pass go or waste time with a funeral.
2. Lock down, N, p. 22 : There’s been a lock-down here and no mail going in and out for a week, but am hoping this will get out.
3. Odd, N, p. 45 : I have seen so many people defy the odds but make no mistake you have a steep hill in front of you but you can reach the summit.
4. Out oneself, V, p. 23 : Have you outed yourself yet?
5. Pay-back, N, p. 49 : I was hoping for a little pay-back…
6. Hoot-ING, N, p. 15 : How is your hooting going? I thought the Kathy Acker piece was a stream of consciousness mess which couldn’t win anyone over to her cause – no evidence, just her declaration that ‘I’m cured’ – nine months after diagnosis, with no objective assessment?
7. 10. Sigh, advice, need, care N, p. 61 : a sigh of relief, my advice, their primary need, loving care
8. Wonder, N, 71 : And my popularity wasn’t just a one-month wonder.
Conversions verticales
p. 36 : A Fashion Victim Writes retired due to illness, but am coming back as A Cancer Victim Moans. That will be interesting.
p. 52 : I hate you are rendered powerless: that it pulls all the strings and you, Ms-in-control-of-her-life-Picardie, control nothing.
p. 59 : Still, I’m trying to look on the bright side. […] And it’s one way of solving the post-feminist, double-barrelled what-surname-to-give-the-kids dilemma. (His. Who wants to be named after a dead psot-feminist?)
Annexe 2
Sens constructionnel des verbes de perception : feel, look, sound et sens constructionnel des verbes de mouvement : go, turn. Expressions périphrastiques vs. verbes simples
Feel
+ syntagme adjectival
p. 2 : […] the antibiotics started working within 24 hours and I now feel fine.
p. 2 : Imagine four days of the worst hangover combined with the worst flu, where you can hardly move, feel poisoned, and half-asleep but not pleasantly out of it all the time. Felt too wretched even to listen to the radio.
p. 2 : I was only sick once (different anti-emetics), had a smaller dose, but it felt worst (cumulative effect).
p. 12 : […] she is feeling less weepy today (Sunday).
p. 29 : Please feel free to be rude about him.
p. 35 : I feel pretty well, other than tired and downhearted.
p. 51 : So, it looks like curtains this year. Death seems unreal since I feel relatively well.
p. 51 : Not really anything left in the treatment bag, which means it’s probably curtains this year, which still feels unreal since I feel relatively well.
p. 53 : I veer between weeping, feeling totally emotionally and physically drained and being unable to believe I am going to die this year…
p. 54 : Doesn’t make you feel groggy in the morning… (Temazepam, a drug)
p. 56 : I feel a bit awkward about writing this to you, and it’s not my style.
p. 57 : Still, I’m pretty scared. Not that breast cancer has been a picnic so far: all those hats I made people buy when I thought I was going bald and then felt guilty about not wearing.
p.60 : I’ve just read your article ‘Before I Say Goodbye’ in the Observer today and feel so moved I must write to you.
p. 62 : I felt so glad that you had kids.
p. 65 : […] do feel free to contact me.
p. 66 : I became completely certain that they went on in an afterlife – a life I’d never believed in before? Even after nearly 5 years I remember how strongly I felt their spirit with me – it has made me feel far less frightened of death…
p. 72 : Unfortunately, all this suffering didn’t make me feel better about my state of health, or fill me with sympathy for others, but made me feel sick, unheroic and afraid.
p. 73 : […] but can I be your best friend again so everyone will feel sorry for me at the funeral?
p. 73 : I guess most of my friends simply feel desperately sorry for Matt, me and the children…
+ syntagme nominal
p. 61 : I still feel loss that I do not have a ‘real’ mother but also aware that I have unwittingly turned her into a paragon of virtue, a perfect version of motherhood – but forever younger than me.
p. 17 : ([…] Now I accept the reality of the situation, it’s not such a disaster.)
I felt the same about infertility – that hoping and praying for a baby was disempowering and that by saying, ‘We can’t have kids’ I took control and could let go of some of the grief. […] I know this isn’t your approach at all, but I hope you can understand why I feel this way right now.
+ contenu propositionnel
p. 18 : […] – you wouldn’t believe the number of acquaintances who suddenly want to be your best friend and feel they are entitled to regular, blow by blow accounts of your emotional / physiological state.
p. 40 : I grew to love you and feel you were the sister I never had.
p. 45 : I felt I had to write to say how much I admire your courage.
p. 46 : I feel we denied her the chance to get better because we denied her feelings and fears.
p. 54 : Much better than Mogadon, which makes you feel as if you’ve been hit over the head by a frying pan.
p. 56 : Please forgive me if this letter is crass or a load of presumptuous cheek – it was simply an impulse I felt I should follow.
p. 61 : My advice (I feel that is too demanding but can’t think of another word) is to make sure you continue to be allowed to live after your death – however uncomfortable this may be for your partner and family.
p. 64 : Everyone who loves you, will love you still. Everyone who lives you have touched, will feel their lives diminished by your passing.
p. 66 : I became completely certain that they went on in an afterlife – a life I’d never believed in before? Even after nearly 5 years I remember how strongly I felt their spirit with me – it has made me feel far less frightened of death…
p. 80 : I was so moved by your frank and amusing article in Life recently, that I I felt I had to write and impart my experience as one of the ‘deserted survivors’ that may offer some solace to you and your family.
Look
+ Syntagme adjectival
p. 12 : Shall I make a silly film to show on BBC2 after our deaths? Over-exposed and black and white to make us look georgeous, lots of slo mo running on the beach and Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman narrating our e-mail correspondence.
p. 25 : But your house always looks fabulously chic and clean.
p. 27 : Looked at my bone scan again which looked ‘hot’ in the right place.
p. 48 : ‘You look so fat.’
p. 48 : ‘To make me look less greedy.
p. 48 : ‘You look so well.’ Actually I don’t look particularly well.
+ Particule adverbiale
p. 59 : And, looking back, I don’t have many regrets.
Sound
p. 19 : You didn’t sound your normal chipper self.
p. 76 : All this (complementary alternative treatment) may sound ridiculous.
Go, turn
Go + Adjectif prédicatif
p. 57 : Still, I’m pretty scared. Not that breast cancer has been a picnic so far: all those hats I made people buy when I thought I was going bald and then felt guilty about not wearing.
p. 58 : Turning into a bruised lemon is, I reckon, better than going mad.
Go + Particule adverbiale
p. 29 : Well, after weeks of hassling (by me) and faffing (by Guy’s) it turns out I do have skull ‘involvement’…
Turn + INTO GN
p. 31 : I was only joking about turning into a vegetable, but I am starting to want to know exactly how one dies of breast cancer.
p. 38 : As you’d expect, the diagnosis turns you into a grumpy, bitter, envious old cow.
p. 39 : Abruptly, you enter the bleaky euphemistic world of palliative care. Pollyanna commits suicide. Your chic crop turns into a toilet brush.
p. 58 : Turning into a bruised lemon is, I reckon, better than going mad.
p. 77 : And even though I turned down his offer of low-level oxygen administration…, the treatment turned into a huge pressure.
p. 38 : As you’d expect, the diagnosis turns you into a grumpy, bitter, envious old cow.
+ Particule Adverbiale
p. 27 : Interviewed Robbie (to his friends) for Style; became slightly in love. He turned out to have shrunk.
p. 29 : Well, after weeks of hassling (by me) and faffing (by Guy’s) it turns out I do have skull ‘involvement’.
p. 72 : I can’t believe my popularity is simply due to the fact that I’m not yet looking as scary as my fellow patients… Nor can it be my former niceness, which never used to cut it when turning up for birthday dinners.
p. 77 : And even though I turned down his offer of low-level oxygen administration…, the treatment turned into a huge pressure.
p. 82 : […] time having run out.
Feel / look / sound like
p. 12 : Sometimes I feel like putting a message on the answerphone.
p. 31 : I feel like I’m fighting the NHS the whole time.
p. 2 : […] since he is not at all attractive though very funny and looks like Dr. Green in ER.
p. 14 : Come and stand next to me and you’ll look like you’re in profile.
p. 20 :But I look like such a slob most of the time.
p. 34 : […] unexpected questions… (such as do I look like my mum?)
p. 34 : We’ve borrowed a HI-8 Sony video camera from friends who live in Vietnam and buy state of the art electronic goods in Singapore, so the kids will know what I looked like (tired and self-conscious).
p. 79 : For just £250, I started looking like a film star.
p. 87-88 : I’m so fat at the moment – the steroids make me look like I have a goitre…
p. 94 : (lettre manuscrite à son fils) You are nearly two and the sweetest boy in the whole world. You look like an angel.
p. 95 : (lettre manuscrite à sa fille) You look just like me. Hooray!
p. 20 : (Yuck, I sound like a perv)
Autres périphrases verbales
p. 7 : I think I’d rather go nuts than die in agony.
p. 17 : ([…] Now I accept the reality of the situation, it’s not such a disaster.)
I felt the same about infertility – that hoping and praying for a baby was disempowering and that by saying, ‘We can’t have kids’ I took control and could let go of some of the grief.
p. 94 : (lettre manuscrite à son fils) You are the best thing that ever happened to me and Daddy and the hardest thing to let go.
p. 58 : Great. I’m going to die, but I’m going to go bonkers first.
p. 87 : The Gower was fab, though started going a bit bonkers and having Prozac-induced panic attacks in the supermarket.
p. 63 : The thought that you want them to be happy – as I know my David wanted me to – will be the real challenge for your family early on. But reading your article and trying to imagine your family, they will be up to it, even if it takes time. And time is what they have.
p. 64 : Gary said ‘you know me mum, I’m a bit dotty.’
p. 65 : If there are any other progs from C4 that you’d like me to lay my hands on, do feel free to contact me.
p. 66 : I think that she felt the Observer had somehow become a medical journal and was to be hidden at all costs from anyone who might throw a wobbler if they caught sight of the article.
p. 66 : I have your articles pinned on my wall in the office as they keep me going.
p. 67 : I am hoping to do my bit in good old East Yorkshire.
p. 68 : […] but I hope that the knowledge of the impression you made today might slighly lift your spirits.
p. 71 : People I haven’t seen for years for years want to take me out for lunch.
p. 78 : […] I ended up with a brain tumor, despite confident declarations from all and sundry that I was on the mend.
p. 82 : It’s very expensive this stuff (aftershave) you know. I’m hoping to finish it before I kick the bucket.