Schadenfreude

I have probably mentioned at some point in this blog my love affair with the German language. I studied German for four years in college and fell in love. For me, it was more than simply satisfying my foreign language requirement; I desperately yearned to learn this language. In pursuit of that goal, I did several things: I hung out with German foreign exchange students. I listened to cassette tapes (yes, I'm that old) daily to perfect my pronunciation. I covered the walls of my dorm room with German vocabulary. I was, indeed, one serious German student.

By the time I graduated, I had perfected my German "ziemlich gut." I was far from fluent, but I could get along okay in basic conversations. At that point I honestly believed I would one day speak the language fluently and flawlessly. I wanted to live in a German-speaking country long enough to make this happen, and I seriously planned to one day do just that. Over two decades later, that has not yet happened. What happened instead was marriage and five remarkable kids, who obviously trump studying German any day. Still, it is an unfilled dream, one I expect will remain with me forever.

Every now and then, I get the chance to test my oh-so-long-ago German skills. Last summer when we were in Costa Rica, we stayed at a small hotel owned and managed by a German couple. I spent hours just listening to them. The sound of the German language still captivates my soul. And though I couldn't catch even half of what they were saying, I felt at home listening. This is my foreign language. I used to know it well. I still know it to some extent, and I still love it. One of the things I love most is the way many German words are so vivid and so precise. A television, for example, is a Fernsehapparat. Fern = picture; seh = seeing; apparat = machine. So literally, a Fernsehapparat is a "picture seeing machine." How perfect!

Some of these words are so descriptive that they've made their way into the English language because we simply don't have anything that translates well enough. One such word, angst, I wrote about earlier. Another one comes to mind because of an experience I had last week:

Schadenfreude.

Literally, Schaden means pain or discomfort or sadness, while Freude means joy. Putting the two words together, we get Schadenfreude, which refers to the feeling of joy over someone else's pain or misfortune or suffering. Have you ever felt Schadenfreude? Have you ever rejoiced inside over someone else's unhappiness? Okay, you don't have to admit it. You're quite right; it isn't a kind feeling. It isn't the least bit Christlike. In fact, Schadenfreude represents the natural man at his (or her) absolute worst.

Last week, during a conversation, I have to confess I felt pure Schadenfreude. It was an uncomfortable conversation for the other person, although not for me. The longer it went on, the worse it got for him. I could have jumped in and said something to lessen the angst, but I did not. Not particularly fond of this individual, I chose instead to sit passively and watch him squirm and sweat. And the longer I watched him squirm and sweat, the more overjoyed I felt inside. Pure Schadenfreude. I am not proud of this reaction, but it was very real. Thankfully, I don't feel Schadenfreude often. In fact, I can't even remember the last time I felt it before this conversation last week.

No, Schadenfreude is not a feeling to be proud of. It is not kind, loving, or charitable. It's downright mean if you think about it. Nevertheless, it's awfully human. And leave it to the Germans to find the perfect word to describe it.