Posts tagged with "comhfhocal"

An tUile-Chuimhneoir sa Leabhar Harry Potter agus an Órchloch

Posted by róislín No Comments
Jun 9 2010

Since we’ve talked so much about memory lately … An cuimhin leat an tUile-Chuimhneoir [un TIL-eh-KHIV-nyorzh] a sheol seanmháthair Neville Longbottom chuige? 

An féidir leat cur síos air?  (Cén chuma atá air?)  Dath?  Cruth?  Méid, srl.?

An bhfuil a fhios agat cén Béarla atá air?

An bhfuil a fhios agat cén sórt focail é i mBéarla? i nGaeilge?

Cén fáth a bhfuil an litir “t” i gcás íochtair agus an litir “U” i gcás uachtair sa bhfrása “an tUile-Chuimhneoir”?

That might be a mouthful!   What’s it all about?

1. Do you remember the “Uile-Chuimhneoir” that Neville Longbottom’s grandmother sent him?

2. Can you describe it? (What appearance was on it?)  Color?  Shape?  Size?

3. What’s the English name for it?

4. Do you know what kind of word it is, in English?  In Irish?

5. Why is the letter “t” lower-case and the letter “U” upper-case in the phrase “an tUile-Chuimhneoir”?

Here are some possible answers; answers may vary:

1. This is a yes/no question so your choices are :Is cuimhin (yes) or Ní cuimhin (no).  Or you might want to get away from the strict yes/no pattern and answer, “Is cuimhin liom sa leagan Béarla é ach ní cuimhin liom sa leagan Gaeilge é.”  Or “Níor léigh mé an leagan Gaeilge fós.”

2. Tá sé cruinn, mar liathróid.  Tá sé chomh mór le mirlín mór.  Tá sé déanta as cineál gloine.  De ghnáth bíonn sé bán, mar gheall ar an deatach bán atá istigh.  Nuair a bhíonn sé in úsáid (mar rinne an t-úinéir dearmad ar rud éigin), tagann dath dearg air. 

It is round, like a ball.  It is as big as a large marble.  It is made of a kind of glass.  Usually it’s white, because of the white smoke that’s inside.  When it’s in use (because the owner forgot something), it becomes red.

3. the Remembrall

4. In English, it’s a “focal portmanteau” (portmanteau word).  In Irish, it’s not really a portmanteau word, which requires the compound elements to be partly juxtaposed, like “Spanglish” or “smog.”  Or, as Lewis Carroll, the originator of the term, phrased it, the words are packed inside each other, as if in a suitcase (portmanteau).  The Irish word, Uile-Chuimhneoir, would be better described as a “comhfhocal” [KOH-UK-ul] (compound word).

5. This is the typical Irish pattern of capitalization with proper names and titles.  The word “Remembrall” is capitalized in Rowling’s original text, as if it were a trademarked product, so it is also capitalized in the Irish version.  The lower-case “t” is prefixed when saying “the Remembrall,” following the pattern for masculine singular nouns beginning with vowels (like an t-uisce, an t-arán).  With generic nouns, like “an t-am” or “an t-úll,” the lower-case “t” is followed by a hyphen.  With capitalized nouns (as in proper names or titles), there is no hyphen after the “t.”  So “an tUile-Chuimhneoir” is “the Remembrall” but “a Remembrall” is simply “Uile-Chuimhneoir” (with no prefixed “t”).

If you had one of the few other nouns in Irish that start with “uile,” but which are generic, there would be no hyphen: “uilethacar” [IL-eh-HAHK-ur, silent “t”] universal set (in math) and “an t-uilethacar,” the universal set.  There aren’t many other examples beginning with “uile,” especially since they have to be masculine for this rule to apply, but one other is “uileloscadh” (holocaust).  Since this could refer to a specific holocaust (in World War II), it could either be a proper noun (an tUileloscadh) or a generic noun (an t-uileloscadh).

You’ll see this same pattern (lower-case then upper-case) in many other phrases in Irish as well, like “i mBostún,” “i nGaillimh,” or “an tSiúr Bríd” (Sister Bridget).  This is supposed to be done even when something is printed entirely in caps (TÁ SÉ I mBOSTÚN) but this isn’t always observed, especially because many automated spellcheckers will try to change it to “MBOSTÚN,” as mine just tried to do!  Occasionally a smaller point size prefix will be used: TÁ SÉ I MBOSTÚN.  Hmmm, bhuel, you’ll have to imagine the “m” before “Bostún” as being capitalized but smaller, since my Word formatting didn’t carry over.  Trua!

Now, the trick is remembering all this till next time!

Gluais: “cuimhneoir,” not a word I’ve seen outside this phrase, but since it’s based on “cuimhin” and co., it would mean “Rememberer” (uses the suffix – eoir indicating agent); loscadh, burning, scorching; órchloch [OR-khlokh], philosopher’s stone, lit. “gold-stone;” uile, all, every

Cúpla Teanga Eile (Cathú Dochloíte): Gearmáinis, Gaillis, Ollainis, Seicis, srl.

Posted by róislín No Comments
Aug 22 2009

Ah, well, this is still only barr an chnoic oighir.  But, cén dochar? 

 

I’ve picked some representative figures here to illustrate someone saying they speak a given language. 

 

Is mise Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.  Labhraím Gearmáinis.

 

Is muide Asterix agus Obelix.  Labhraímid Gaillis agus Laidin.

 

Is mise Vincent Van Gogh.  Labhraím Ollainis.

 

Is mise Franz Kafka.  Labhraím Gearmáinis agus Seicis.

 

Is mise Oivid.  Labhraím Laidin agus scríobhaim filíocht i Laidin.

 

Is mise Hóiméar.  Labhraím Gréigis agus scríobhaim filíocht i nGréigis.

 

Is mise Matsuo Basho.  Scríobhaim filíocht i Seapáinis i bhfoirm haiku.   

 

Is mise Adi Kavi Valmiki.  Labhraím Sanscrait.  Scríobh mé an Ramayana. 

 

Is mise Harry Potter.  Labhraím Béarla agus *Snathairtheanga.  Níl ann ach b’fhéidir seisear eile a bhfuil nó a raibh Snathairtheanga acu; ba de shliocht Salazar Slytherin an chuid is mó acu.

 

Fuaimniú agus Ciall: cathú [KAH-hoo] temptation; dochloíte [duh-KHLEE-tcheh] invincible, here “irresistible”; cnoc oighir [knok AI-irzh] iceberg; filíocht [FIL-ee-ukht] poetry; i bhfoirm X [ih WIRzh-im] in (the) form of X; de shliocht [djeh hlikht, note silent “s”] of the lineage / ancestry of, descended from

 

Snathairtheanga [SNAH-hirzh-HANG-guh], a tri-partite “comhfhocal,” consisting of “nathair” (snake) + teanga (tongue) + an initial “s” for the “siosarnach” (hissing).  Since lucht leanúna Harry Potter i nGaeilge are still waiting for the actual translation of Book 2 of the series to be done, I have coined this word in the interim.  J. K. Rowling’s term for “snake-speech,” parseltongue, doesn’t actually appear in Book 1, Harry Potter agus an Órchloch, so, so far there is no precedent.  At any rate, it seems to fit the bill, at least as well as Jean-François Menard’s “Choixpeau” (Sorting Hat) did for the French.  Who knows?  If Máire Nic Mhaoláin, who translated Book 1 into Irish, ever does Book 2, maybe she’ll go ahead and use this word!  Comparable compounds already in use for the same hissing language are “Fourchelang” (Fraincis), Serpentese (Iodáilis), Parselzunge (Gearmáinis) and Sisselspraak or Sisseltong (Ollainis). 

 

Nóta gramadaí: “cúpla” is followed by the singular in Irish: cúpla teanga, cúpla duine, cúpla cailín, cúpla blaigeard, srl.

“Ga-sheol go Filideilfia nó go Detroit mé, a Scotty! Tá mé ag iarraidh an Taispeántas (Exhibition) ‘RéaltAistear’ a fheiceáil.”

Posted by róislín No Comments
Aug 4 2009

Tá a fhios agam go bhfuil daoine (agus b’fhéidir neacha eile!) amuigh ansin a bhfuil suim acu sa Ghaeilge agus sna cláracha agus sna scannáin RéaltAistear (Star Trek).  Faoi láthair tá an taispeántas i bhFilideilfia ag an Institiúid Franklin (www.fl.edu) agus i nDetroit ag an Detroit Science Center (www.detroitsciencecenter.org).

 

Seo cúpla frása ón seó, aistrithe go Gaeilge (or could I say “RéaltAistrithe” since the Irish word for “Trek,” aistear, is a cognate of “aistrigh,” which means “translate,” “transfer,” or “journey.”  “Ochlán” (groan), you say?  I don’t blame you – that was fíordhroch-chomhfhoclacht, really bad punning).  Pé scéal é:

 

1) “Ga-sheol aníos mé, a Scotty!”  Tá a fhios, tá a fhios, tá a fhios agam.  De réir an staidéir atá déanta ar an ábhar seo, ní dúradh go díreach mar seo é riamh, ach “Scotty, beam us up!,” srl.  Ach sin mar atá an frása sa phopchultúr agus is leor sin don chás seo. 

 

Astute observers may notice that I’m flying the face of the punctuation reforms in Irish over the last few decades, by adding a fleiscín between the words “ga” (ray, beam) and “seol” (send, sail, here lenited to “sheol”).  It makes the pronunciation clearer [gah-hyohl, silent “s”] and shows the components of the comhfhocal (compound word), since it is indeed a comhfhocal in Irish.  Being inflected, Irish traditionally hasn’t had quite the flexibility that English has for changing parts of speech around without adding suffixes or prefixes (“I’ll ‘friend’ you, etc.). 

 

Keeping the fleiscín also differentiates “ga-sheol!” (beam!) from Gasheol in World of Warcraft!  To boldly gaelicize Gasheol’s character type, he is an abhacshagart (dwarf priest), at least, fm’e (fad m’eolais, as far as I can tell).  That differentiation is helpful, at least for those of us who constantly search for how new Irish words are being used on the Idirlíon and have to wade through acrainmneacha (acronyms), comhtheagmhasachtaí bréige (flukes), and ainmneacha ar leith do charachtair (specific character names), which may or may not be related to the Irish term in question.  If anyone knows whether the WoW character is named after the Irish word or whether he does any beaming himself, I’d be interested to hear.   “Ga-sheol aníos Gasheol, a Scotty!”  Úúps, I’m commingling my réaltachtaí ailtéarnacha! 

 

One would be hard pressed to find a ready-made verb in Irish for the type of “beaming” Scotty does.  “Beam” as a transitive verb in Irish (spalp) is somewhat uncommon to begin with, and the meaning is more like “burst forth” or “pour out.”  One could always resort to the widely used verb ending “-áil” (as in páirceáil, péinteáil, and sciáil) and add it to “bíoma” to get a verb very similar to the English, but “ga-sheol” is the word that has been well entrenched in Irish-medium Star Trek fandom since at least 1996, when I first saw the term.   

 

I was going to do the “intelligent life” bit here, but it will have to wait for blag eile.

 

2) “Saol fada agus rath ort!” It may be a hard to prove a direct link, but this traditional Irish phrase certainly serves the purpose for “Live long and prosper!” (lit. long life and prosperity on you).

 

Some of the other phrases I had in mind will take up at least one more blog, so here’s a closer, hopefully straightforward:

 

3) “Dochtúir agus ní brícléir atá ionam,” a dúirt _____.  Cé a dúirt é sin?  Whoever sends the correct answer in first (via “comments”) will get to nominate another Star Trek catchphrase for translation here, or if you prefer, to send the phrase and your own translation in.  Of course, you could do that anyway!

 

Gluaisín agus/nó Fuaimniú: RéaltAistear [RAYLT-ASH-tcherr]; neacha [NYAKH-uh] beings; faoi láthair, currently; seó [note the long “ó”] show; abhacshagart [OWK-HAHG-urt, note silent “s”]; comhtheagmhasachtaí [KOH-HAG-wass-ukh-tee]; fíordhroch-chomhfhoclacht [FEER-GHROKH-KHOH-OK-lukht, congratulations – that was three prefixes in a row].

 

Nótaí:

ní dúradh [nee DOOR-uh], that’s “door” like the Scots “dour,” or probably the Scots “door” of the “hoos,” for that matter, i.e. not like the English “door” or “dower;” I’m trying to keep my pronunciation guide consistent, with “oo” as in “food” or “mood,” not as in “good” or “wood.”  Best practice, of course, is to listen to native speakers, as you’ll find on Transparent’s Word of the Day and their other programs.

 

sciáil [SHKEE-aw-il, don’t forget the slender “s” sound, like English, hmm, well, that “shkee” sound isn’t very common in American English. You’ll find it in Yiddish “Shkapeh” (worthless object).  You’ll also find it in some dialect or light-hearted English, like an ad I saw mentioned in a Ballybunion website that commented on the pronunciation “for all of your shkeeing needs” (skiing in Ballybunion? uisce-sciáil, b’fhéidir, ach sin Á.B.E.).  Also spotted in a humorous piece in the Independent (March 8, 2009) entitled “Whishkey on a Shunday.”  Perhaps, to “nutshell” it and take it back to standard Irish, the sound is like the Irish “sc” in “scian” (but not the way the Scots often pronounce their version of the word, as in “sgian dubh,” which is more like “skean” or “sgeen” with no “sh” quality).  So, nine lines to describe one non-standard English sound!  I hope I didn’t just make a “míol mór” (whale) from a “míoltóg” (midge), or as English has it, a mountain from a mole-hill, but if it is a mountain of detail, at least you can “sciáil” down it next time around (for words like sceach, sceadamán, scige, or sciúch, all of which have same “shk” 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

Back to the Top