Of Mothers and Fathers
Every generation has its favorite colloquial words and phrases, some of which go back a long way, bridging several generations. One of the most common exclamations in Mexico, for example, ¡Qué padre!, is not new. It dates at least from the forties, if not from much further back.
One of the great things about the word padre is that anyone can use it, although it will always smack of youth. Perhaps that’s why people smile when senior citizens throw it into a conversation, even though they probably went around saying padre all the time when they were younger.
The word is a catchall that has many equivalents in English: great, neat, cool, groovy (obsolete), awesome (soon to be obsolete), jiving (obsolete, then revived), etc. Other countries have their own equivalents: chévere, macanudo, cojonudo, acojonante… Another way of saying está padre in Mexico is very expressive: ¡Está de pelos! Some people say de peluche, and even de pelísimos.
The problem with words like these is that they often stop the thought process. When we like something, we simply say it’s padre and that’s that. Very few people take the time to stop and think why something is padre. This causes even further lexical atrophy in the lazy speaker. Let’s eavesdrop on a conversation between two high schoolers:
—¿Qué te pareció la película?
—¡Padre!
—¿Por qué?
—Pues estuvo padre, y hay unas escenas padrísimas.
—¿Qué tal las actuaciones?
—Pues, ¡padres! Ya te había dicho…
(What did you think of the movie? / Great! / Why do you say that? / Because it was great and there are some great scenes. / And what about the acting? / Great. I already told you!)
After listening to this conversation, the only thing I know is that the person who went to the movies truly liked the film. The problem is that I have no idea why.
Padre is a very positive word, and it can indeed be used effectively in conjunction with other words and phrases. In any case, our goal should be that all words and idiomatic expressions enrich — not impoverish — our speech and writing. Use padre sparingly, and try never to use it more than once in any given paragraph: think of more specific alternatives: conmovedor, profundo, espectacular, brillante, sui géneris, original, impresionante, antisolemne, regocijante, chistoso, hilarante, trágico, estupendo…
Many English speakers think it unfair that padre should be such a positive word while madre can be and often is so negative. The very same phenomenon is true in Spain, only with the words cojonudo and coñazo. The word cojones refers to the testicles; coño is the vulgar way of referring to the female sexual organ. When something is very good, the Spanish say it is cojonudo; when it is a total disaster, they say it’s a coñazo. One of the most common interjections denoting exasperation or dismay in Spain is ¡Coño! If a Spaniard wanted to say the equivalent of “What the hell are you saying?” in the language of Cervantes, he would probably come out with: ¿Qué coños estás diciendo?
So it’s basically a cultural thing. No big deal though. Women as well as men use padre and madre in the same ways, although madre can be excessively vulgar in many circles and circumstances. That is precisely why most people avoid the word, even when referring to the person who gave birth to them.
Nine out of ten persons will say: Quiero mucho a mi mamá, and not: Quiero mucho a mi madre. In Mexico, if someone “mentioned your mother”, te mentó la madre, it means that they have cursed you out in the worst way. One of the most common methods of mentando la madre in Mexico is to use the car horn in heavy traffic: ¡taaa-ta-ta-taaa-ta, ta-tá! This is the way many people knock on the door in the us, which explains why Mexicans usually laugh in the movies when they see this on screen. The mentada can be abbreviated by leaving out the last two beeps.
Something that is very small is a madrecita. Paradoxically, the most masculine of all body parts, if it is of unimpressive size, can be referred to as a madrecita: “Tiene una madrecita de este tamaño”, scoffed the woman to a friend after her first and last date with the unfortunate don Juan.
To dar en la madre or poner [a alguien] en su madre is to beat up someone quite thoroughly, or otherwise do him or her great moral harm. Another common way of putting it is to madrear. After fighting in a cantina, for example, one would probably come home todo madreado. Yet one can be madreado spiritually. Let’s say you were fired, or downsized, after working for only two weeks, two years, or almost all your life. Your pride has been wounded; your hopes, dashed; you feel perfectly madreado.
Such is life. But not all madres are negative. As the saying goes: Madre, sólo hay una. (We only have one mother.) And that’s pretty special. And when things are going really well, they are going… ¡a toda madre! So, not everything “motherly” is bad in Mexican Spanish. I swear… ¡Lo juro por mi madre (or madrecita)!
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