Posts tagged with "Á.B.E."

Tragóid i Háití: An Crith Talún

Posted by róislín No Comments
Jan 15 2010

Before returning to the ábhar éadromchroích I had planned for following up on “Lochlannach,” I want to introduce some terms for discussing na himeachtaí i Háití. 

 

Mostly this will just be in list format, since I find the situation almost too overwhelming,

especially so close on the heels of other disasters around the world, to weave much of a text around it.  But perhaps some of you would like to send some smaointe using these frásaí in to the comments section.   

 

an t-adhlacadh [un TELL-uk-uh, both “dh’s” silent]: the burial

an bás (pl. na básanna): the death, the fatality

an brablach: the rubble

an Criól: the Creole (language)

an crith talún [krih TAL-oon] (pl: na creathanna [KRA-hun-nuh] talún): the earthquake

an daonra: the population

an deor (pl. na deora): the tear

an t-eipealár: the epicenter

an éasclíne [AYSK-LEEN-yeh]: the fault line (éasc, m, fault, in the geological sense + líne, f, line; since “líne” is feminine, the compound word éasclíne is feminine)

an leathsféar thiar: the western hemisphere (leath + sféar)

an méid [maydj]: the magnitude (also, “amount,” in general)

an t-oibrí cabhrach [KOW-rukh]: the aid worker

an t-olladhlacadh [un TOLL-ell-uk-uh]: the mass burial

an riosca seismeach [SHESH-makh]: the seismic risk

an tír is boichte [un tcheer iss BWIH-tcheh]: the poorest country (“boichte” is from “bocht,” poor.  “Bocht” has a broad “ch,” like the German and Yiddish sounds we’ve discussed previously.  “Boichte,” the superlative form, has a slender “ch,” meaning it’s very breathy, but not in the throat like “bocht” is.  You might know the slender “ch” also from words like “oíche” [EE-hyeh] or “fiche” [FIH-hyeh], “night” and “twenty” respectively.  The sound is like the initial “h” in words like “hew,” “Hugh,” and “humid.”  It’s not easy to represent in Roman letters.  In IPA, the sound would be represented by /x’/.  IPA is a great tool for learning Irish if you use a book that uses that transcription system such as the Foclóir Póca.  If you decide to learn IPA for Irish, remember that the Foclóir Póca uses “Irish-modified” IPA, which is a bit of a saga unto itself, so Á.B.E. (ábhar blag eile).

 

Coiste Idirnáisiúnta na Croise Deirge: the International Committee of the Red Cross

Crois Dhearg na hÉireann: the Irish Red Cross Society

scála Richter: Richter scale

 

ag caoineadh, ag gol: crying, weeping; caoineadh coscrach, heart-rending lamenting

ag sileadh na ndeor: shedding tears (as the subject of a sentence, deora is the plural, but here the plural form drops the final “-a,” for a combination of two reasons – it’s definite in Irish (na ndeor) though not in English, and it follows a verbal noun).   

ar iarraidh: missing

marbh: dead; na mairbh: the dead (as a noun)

 

an Háitíoch (pl, as noun: na Háitígh) [HAWTCH-eee, the last syllable drawn out just a tad longer than normal]: Haitian

 

Háití: There’s not too much difference in the spelling of Haiti in English and in Irish, except that the Irish has the two long vowels.  While many country names in Irish are preceded by the definite article (An Spáinn, An Fhrainc, An Bholaiv, an tSeapáin), some, like Háití and many others (Meicsiceo, Ceanada, Cúba, Eacuadór, Lucsamburg), are not.  “Háití” is feminine, as are many country names, but with no definite article and no lenitable consonant at the beginning of the word, it’s almost impossible to predict the inscne (gender).

 

“Tá ár bhféiniúlacht caillte againn.  Ní eisim.”  Sin dhá abairt choscracha ó mharantóir a bhí ar an nuacht agus a bhfuil Gaeilge curtha agam orthu. 

 

Nótaí: féiniúlacht, identity; caillte, lost; abairt, sentence; coscrach, heart-rending; eisim [ESH-im], I exist, in the philosophical sense; marantóir, survivor.  There are at least two more ways one could say “I don’t exist”—Níl mé ann (lit. I’m not in it, i.e. in existence) or “Níl mo leithéid ann,” a twist on the well-known expression “Ní bheidh ár leithéidí arís ann” (the likes of us will not exist again”), but here expressed in the present tense, giving it some added poignancy.  Hmm, maybe a fourth way, “Is neamhdhuine mé,” (I’m a non-entity/non-person).   

 

Nótaí deiridh: éadrom, light (adj); croíoch, -hearted; imeacht, going; imeachtaí, events

 

 

 

 

Bás Michael Jackson (1958-2009)

Posted by róislín 1 Comment
Jul 13 2009

Bhuel, tar éis a bheith ag smaoineamh faoi, after pondering the matter, I figured I may as well join the sluaite (hordes) ag scríobh faoi Michael Jackson. 

 

First stop, as usual, what else has been written about his death, as Gaeilge?  Can’t say I found mórán (much).  A cuardach Google limited to “Bás Michael Jackson” brought up 99 results, only one of which turned out to be in Irish.  How’d that happen?  An iomarca teangacha a bhfuil “bas” (gan síneadh fada) mar fhocal acu, go mór mór, an Fhraincis (see gluaisín thíos, for vocab help). 

 

Next stop, minus the word “bas,” to eliminate the French and other languages.  That brought me back to the móriomlán (grand total) of one result for “Bás Michael Jackson” as such.  Searching in the Irish version of Google didn’t seem to make any difference. 

 

Cúpla straitéis eile, a couple other strategies.  How about using the “gaelú” (gaelicization) of Jackson’s name?  But first, an explanation — names of celebrities and international figures are not usually gaelicized unless their bearer shows some precedent for doing so.  That’s generally true, even if they have Irish or partly Irish backgrounds.  Sampla gasta, a quick example, using Google hits as an admittedly rough frame of reference: “Bill Clinton,” 23,700,000 (ní nach ionadh); “William Clinton,” 356,000; “William Jefferson Clinton,” 320,000, but for “Liam Cliontún,” the gaelú of his name, the results were exactly tada, faic, a dhath ar bith – all Irish ways of saying “nothing.”  And that’s despite his dúchas Éireannach (Irish heritage).  Of course, I’m not saying here that no one has ever used the “Liam Cliontún” version of his name, just that it doesn’t show up in a Googlable manner.  If the results had been, mar shampla, “Bill Clinton,” 5, and “Liam Cliontún, 0, then I’d say, “completely inconclusive.”  But at 23 milliún+ to náid (0), I think we can safely say there’s no formal precedent for saying “Liam Cliontún” when referring to iaruachtarán na Stát Aontaithe (the former president of the United States), even if writing in Irish. 

 

For good measure, I even tried “Liam Clinton,” a hybrid version of the name, since some people are more comfortable changing their “ainm baiste” (given name) for use in Irish language classes or social contexts, but are less likely to adapt their surname, even informally.  “Liam Clinton” gave me about 155 hits, of which only a handful were actually about an tUachtarán, the president.  There are other Liam Clintons in the world who come up in the search, including one who was born in 2009.  And most of the presidential references were due to glitches in wording, which meant that “Wil-liam Clinton” (with word-break) would show up in my search for “Liam Clinton,” where “William Clinton” would not.  So much for that ascaill (avenue), or, to be more concise, sin sin (that’s that). 

 

There are some exceptions to not gaelicizing names, mar shampla, An Mháthair Treasa, possibly triggered by the expected translation of the honorific, and Criostóir Colambas.

 

So, now back to Mícheál Mac Siacais.  Did searching for the gaelicized version of his name bring up any abundance of commentary as Gaeilge?  Can’t say it did.  I found a móriomlán of one actual article and two brief fan commentaries. 

 

I also tried searching for “bás Mhíchíl (Mhícheál) Mhic Shiacais,” using the name in the genitive case (Mhic instead of Mac, etc.) figuring that anyone who cared enough about the ábhar (topic) to write about it in Irish might have gone ahead with the gaelú anyway.  Glantoradh (net result), one repeat hit.

 

OK, so this has gotten me through blag amháin eile without even getting up to my intended project, a capsúlbheathaisnéis* of Jackson, as Gaeilge.  So far, I’ve only gotten through whether or not it made sense to refer to him as Mícheál Mac Siacais (Mac Siac-Ó?).  So the capsúlbheathaisnéis will have to wait for blag eile, and will be forthcoming, more on the “forth-“ (sooner) side of things if I hear from readers that they are interested in the ábhar.  More on the farther side of “forthcoming” má chloisim (if I hear) tada, faic, a dhath ar bith uaibhse (from ye).   Even though my own musical taste is much more traidisiúnta, I’m happy to write about virtually any topic that is tráthúil (timely) agus i mbéal na ndaoine (being talked about).  But there are other topics looming large, tearmainn na n-asal (the donkey sanctuaries) agus an chéad scannán eile i sraith Harry Potter, mar shampla, so do let me know má tá suim agaibh!

 

Sin é – Róislín

 

*OK, OK, in the time-honored tradition of Gaeilgeoirí, especially those active before the general spread of World Wide Web and Internet usage, which brought online dictionaries and which I date to about 1994, I made up the word “capsúlbheathaisnéis.”  I find no precedent for it online.  But that is how new words get started.  Hint: beathaisnéis itself comes from beatha, life + faisnéis, information, i.e. biography.  I didn’t choose to say “beathaisnéis chapsúil,” since to me that would sound more like the life story of a capsule (say what?), from being part of sheet of plastic to being a tablet filled with medicinal powder.  Not real exciting – it would sound a bit like the booklets we used to have ar scoil (at school), like “The Story of a Coffee Bean.”  These  would cover the saolré (life-cycle) of the pónaire chaife (coffee-bean) from péacán (sprout) to cupán “iáva.”  Not that a pónaire chaife is really a pónaire, it’s really a síol (seed), ach sin scéal eile – Á.B.E.! 

 

Gluaisín [GLOO-ish-een]: an iomarca [un YUM-ark-uh], too many; a bhfuil … acu [uh wil … AHK-uh], that/which have; gan [gahn], without; go mór mór, especially; an Fhraincis [un RANK-is, silent “f”], the French language, scannán, film, movie; sraith, series (“th” is silent). 

 

Leideanna Fuaimnithe: faic [fwack], capsúlbheathaisnéis [KAHP-sool-VA-hash-naysh, silent “t”], uaibhse [OO-iv-sheh], beatha [BA-huh], faisnéis [FASH-naysh]. saolré [seel-ray], síol [sheel]

Being a Gael-Mheiriceánach, Gael-Cheanadach, or Gael-Astrálach, or Any Other Nationality “as Gaeilge”

Posted by róislín 2 Comments
May 31 2009

We recently discussed the various ways to use the word “Gael-Mheiriceánach” to say something is “Irish-American” or “I am an Irish-American.” Let’s go global and discuss some more possibilities.

 

If you’re one of about 4.5 million Canadians with Irish ancestry, you could say, “Is Gael-Cheanadach mé.”  If you’re one of almost 2 million Irish-Australians, you could say, “Is Gael-Astrálach mé.”

 

Please keep in mind as you read this, that the main goal in today’s blog is to show how to say that one is an Irish-American, an Irish-Canadian, etc. It would take a book, or more, to thoroughly discuss Irish identity, including such terms as Gael-Mheiriceánach (Irish-American), Gael Meiriceánach or Éireannach Meiriceánach (American-Irish), náisiúnaigh Éireannacha (Irish nationals), Éireannaigh eitneacha (ethnic Irish), easaoránaigh (ex-pats), and what, if any, difference it makes if one is from an chéad ghlúin (first generation) or an tríú glúin (third generation). In fact, even the term “first generation,” regarding inimirce (immigration), is in dispute, since it can refer to either the immigrants themselves, or, more commonly in my experience, to the first generation born in the new homeland.  So the goal here is not to tell people how to self-identify themselves, but to give them the Irish vocabulary to say what they want to say about themselves. Requests welcome! Admittedly, some will give me pause to reflect, especially if I haven’t seen them used before.  Gael-Nua-Eabhracach for an Irish-New Yorker, srl.?

 

And here are a few more straightforward examples, i.e. unhyphenated, using some of terms from the previous places on Celtic place names and nationalities:

 

Is Éireannach mé. I’m an Irishman.

 

Is Breatnach mná í Catherine Zeta-Jones, agus ban-aisteoir iontach. Catherine Zeta-Jones is a Welshwoman and a wonderful actress.

 

Is Briotánach é Alan Stivell, agus cláirseoir den scoth. Alan Stivell is a Breton, and a top-notch harpist.

 

Ba Chornach é William Golding (1911-1993).  William Golding was a Cornishman.

 

Is Albanach é Seán Connery, agus sáraisteoir.  Seán Connery is a Scot and a great actor.

 

Is Manannach é an príomhcharachtar in The Manxman, scannán de chuid Alfred Hitchcock, ní nach ionadh. The main character in The Manxman, an Alfred Hitchcock movie, is a Manxman, not surprisingly. 

 

And for good measure:

Is Ceanadaigh iad Gordon Lightfoot agus Loreena McKennitt, agus sáramhránaithe. Gordon Lightfoot and Loreena McKennitt are Canadians, and great singers.

 

Is Astrálach í Nicole Kidman, agus ban-aisteoir iontach. Nicole Kidman is an Australian and a wonderful actress. I know, she has saoránacht dhúbáilte (dual-citizenship) and dúchas (heritage) Astrálach-Haváíoch-Mheiriceánach but that’ll be Á.B.E.

 

Pronunciation tips:

as Gaeilge: “in Irish.” Remember the preposition “as” has a “hard” s-sound, like “floss,” or “DOS” in computer lingo. Or like “Bossy the Cow” but not “a bossy boss,” at least in my English pronunciation. The vowel sound is “aaahh.” Although this word looks like the English “as,” it isn’t!

 

Chornach: when the sentence is in the past tense, the verb “is” changes to “ba” and the word Cornach changes to Chornach, meaning you have a double dose of pronouncing the Buch-Achtung-Chutzpah “ch” sound. 

An Bliosán Gréine (Jerusalem Artichoke): Ainm Contráilte i mBéarla ach “Neamhchontráilte” i nGaeilge (An English Misnomer but Irish “Non-Misnomer”)

Posted by róislín 6 Comments
May 25 2009

Tamaillín ó shin (a little while ago, May 6 to be specific), I hinted at a discussion of the term “Jerusalem artichoke” in Irish.  And why not?  It’s suimiúil (interesting) on several counts: “luibheolaíocht” (botany), “logainmníocht” (toponymy), “sanasaíocht” and “bréagshanasaíocht” (etymology and pseudo-etymology), “cócaireacht” (cooking), and “eolas contráilte”(misinformation), to name just a few.

 

You may recall that the key to understanding “Jerusalem artichoke,” the English name of the plant Helianthus tuberosus, is the Italian word “girasole” (turning toward the sun, heliotropic).  It has nothing to do with Jerusalem, which, if it were part of the phrase, would be “Iarúsailéim.”  So, if we look at the word’s history, its sanasaíocht, or in this case, bréagshanasaíocht, we find that the “girasole” element eventually became Jerusalem, through similarity of sound and the fact that so many plant and animal species are, in fact, named after geographic locations, accurate or not.  Stranger things have been known to happen, soundwise, like “sparrowgrass” for “asparagus,” or toponymically, as in Philadelphia Cream Cheese, which originated in New York, or “Panama hats,” which are traditionally made in Ecuador. 

 

Whether the plant actually turns to the sun or not, I will not question here, not being a luibheolaí (botanist), but if anyone can vouch for the plant’s héileatrópacht (heliotropism), I’d be interested to hear about it.   Or maybe we should ask the aptly named character, Miss Heliotrope, from the children’s book, The Little White Horse, which is one of my all-time favorites, and to judge from her recent endorsement, one of J. K. Rowling’s childhood favorites also.  Of course, Miss Heliotrope’s name comes from the color of her nose, which matches the color of the heliotrope flower, and not from any sun-turning propensities, but, sin Á.B.E.

 

Irish, I’m pleased to say, drops the ainm contráilte (misnomer) and simply uses “bliosán gréine” (sun artichoke) for H. tuberosus.  We’re still left with calling this sunflower an “artichoke” but that much seems irreversible.  Apparently its root is edible and tastes something like artichoke, hence the connection.  Can’t say I’ve ever tried it though.  Agus tusa?  Ar ith tú fréamh bliosán gréine riamh? (And yourself?  Ever eat Jerusalem artichoke root?).  If so, I’d be interested to know how it was prepared and I’m sure other readers would be interested too.  That might even help us work on one particularly ambiguous bit of Irish vocabulary, the verb “bruith,” which can mean to boil, bake, broil, grill, or become burnt, usually from the sun, not culinarily, which would typically use the verb “dó” (to burn).  So that’s our cócaireacht connection. 

 

The globe artichoke (Cynara cardunculus), the plant we normally eat, is actually member of the feochadán (thistle) family.  Thistles and their Celtic connections could easily occupy a full blog, so I’ll save that for blag éigin eile. 

 

Pronunciation tip:

sanasaíocht: SAHN-uss-ee-ukht; the “kh” here represents the guttural “ch” sound, like German has in “Buch” or “Achtung” and as in the word “Chutzpah.”

bréagshanasaíocht: remember the “bréag” (false) part is a prefix, which softens or “lenites” the initial “s” of sanasaíocht to “sh,” and that means that the original initial “s” is not pronounced at all!  The “sh” sound in Irish is pronounced like an “h,” so here we have BRAYG-HAHN-uss-ee-ukht.  You may have learned that the first syllable is stressed in pronouncing Irish words, which is true, but the rule changes for compound words.  They typically have equal stress on the prefix and the first syllable, which I indicate here with ceannlitreacha (capital letters). 

 

You can also see this pronunciation rule for prefixes in effect in words like “seanchapall” (old horse), which would be represented as SHAN-KHAHP-ull, with the first two syllables having equal emphasis.  More examples of that later, i mblag eile, if you let me know that “comhfhocail” (compound words) are of particular interest.  Bhur mblagálaí – Róislín

Lá na Máithreacha vs. Lá na Máthar (“Day of the Mothers” or “of the Mother”)?

Posted by róislín No Comments
May 10 2009

I’ve been following this debate in Irish circles for a good 10 or so years now, probably since the first time I wrote on the topic for my children’s Irish language column in the Philadelphia-based Irish Edition newspaper (www.irishedition.com).   Are we celebrating one mother or all mothers? 

I should probably qualify that to say “i gciorcail Ghael-Mheiriceánacha agus Ghael-Cheanadacha” (in Irish-American and Irish-Canadian circles), since Mother’s Day as such wasn’t traditionally celebrated in Ireland, or Britain for that matter.  Instead, “Mothering Sunday” was, and is, observed on the fourth Sunday of Lent (aka Laetare Sunday).  Mothering Sunday was originally a very religious holiday, for the purpose of visiting one’s mother church (“going a-mothering”) and typically being reunited with one’s mother for the day.  Recently, however, it has become increasingly secularized and more like North American Mother’s Day.  The Irish term for “Mothering Sunday” is surprising elusive, but “Domhnach an Mháithreachais” should do. 

 

The consensus seems to be that the Mother’s Day concept is plural, despite the English grammatical structure, which makes it singular.  These days many people leave out the apostrophe altogether, adding to the confusion, since the phrase “Mothers Day” without the apostrophe isn’t  specifically singular or plural or even possessive. In English, of course, the apostrophe is currently dying a slow death, despite the valiant attempts of organizations like the Apostrophe Protection Society (www.apostrophe.org.uk) and websites like www.apostrophecatastrophes.com, as well as attention from such prominent commentators as Arianna Huffington who wrote “The Apostrophe Crisis: When Perfectly Good Punctuation Goes Bad” (www.huffingtonpost.com/arianna-huffington/the-apostrophe-crisis-wh_b_12628.html).  So, at some point in the future, we’ll just have a blur of events like “Mothers Day,” “Fathers Day,” and “St. Patricks Day.”  The latter will be particularly problematic if it presumes the existence of more than one St. Patrick!  Mother – Mothers, Father — Fathers — OK.  But is there another St. Patrick? 

 

Fortunately, the Irish language will never fall quite into that grammatical trap.  It doesn’t  use the apostrophe to show possession.  So you see, those of you from Ireland, all those years of studying the tuiseal ginideach (genitive case) are of some benefit!  It’s true that Irish has some complicated use of apostrophes, including indicating the real colloquial pronunciation of phrases like “fear an phoist” (the postman, pronounced fear a’ phoist).  Bhuel, more on na hapastrófa and an tuiseal ginideach later but that Á.B.E. (ábhar blag eile) will have to wait.  

 

Back to Mother’s Day itself.  “Lá na Máithreacha” seems to be favored somewhat over “Lá na Máthar,” to judge by some recent online searching.  As I mentioned, there’s not much precedent for either of these phrases in older Irish sources, since the day was not traditionally observed in Ireland under the name “Mother’s Day.”  

 

Conveniently, this topic has also introduced some of the irregularities of the word “máthair.”  It’s an irregular noun, with the following forms:

 

máthar: of a mother (note the “i” has been dropped at the end – that shows that this form is possessive).  Example: gach mac máthar, every mother’s son 

 

na máthar: of the mother.  Ex.: Sláinte na máthar, the health of the mother. 

 

máithreacha: mothers,  Ex. ár máithreacha romhainn, our mothers before us

 

Based on this, can you guess the forms for “athair” (father)?  It’s irregular in a similar way to “máthair.”  How would you suppose we’d say “Father’s Day”?   Or “Grandpar­ents Day,” which, by the way, is officially gan apastróf (apostrophe-less) according to its creator’s website (www.grandparents-day.com).

 

However you celebrate the day, bain sult as (enjoy it) – bhur mblagálaí — Róislín

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