Posts tagged with "French"

Getting back to the pronunciation series that was started a few blogs ago, there are a few more points I’d like to add.  As I said before, what I’m doing here is primarily explaining the transcription system that I use, not attempting to account for every possible sound or variation of a sound in Irish or every possible way of transcribing it. 

As I’ve also said before, I realize that the most precise system is the International Phonetic Alphabet, but even that presents the dilemma of whether to use the original IPA or the Irish-modified version.  And for most learners, at least the students I’ve had over the years, a rough guide based on English is much more graspable. 

The problem, of course, with using the sounds of English as a guide is that English is full of multiple ways to spell the same sound.  Here’s a set of examples I recently culled from the Internet to explain the pronunciation of “Caique,” as in the Caique parrot: kigh-eek, kah-eek, kai-eek, kai-EEK, ky-eek and kye-eek (the latter two used interchangeably in the same website).  To complicate matters, those are just for one approach; some people apparently just pronounce the word like “cake.”  But the main point is that in the relatively specialized world of Caique parrot aficionados, six transcription systems have been used. I’ve been trying to keep mine, for Irish, consistent. 

At any rate, from time to time I explain the system I’m using, but if I did that every time it would take up at least half the blog, so I hope people can refer back to the other pronunciation blogs if there’s a question. 

And finally, getting to the sounds I wanted to discuss in today’s blog – the broad and slender “b.”  While there are basically two sounds involved here, one could see them as four sounds: there’s a regular broad “b” in words like “bata” (stick), “bog” (soft), and “bus” (bus), as discussed previously.  But in front of certain vowel combinations, the broad “b” becomes, well, broader.  This is especially typical with the vowel clusters “ao,” “aoi,” and “uí,” as in the following: 

buí [bwee], yellow

baoi [bwee], a buoy

baoth [bwee], foolish, vain; the silent “th” at the end of the word you might recognize as par for the course by now

Likewise, baol (danger), baoite (bait), baothghalánta (snobbish), buíoch (thankful), buíochas (thanks), and buíon (band, troop). 

For these sounds, I’m simply using the “w” after the “b” in the transcription to get the effect.  I can’t say I can think of any English words that start with this sound, except maybe borrowed words such as the Swahili “bwana” and French “bois” as in “faux bois garden furniture.”  And that actual French “bois” doesn’t include W. E. B. Du Bois or Boise, Idaho, at least not in their usual American pronunciations. 

Why troscán gairdín needs to be described as “faux bois” at all is an issue I’ll leave to the margóiri.   Or maybe the maisitheoirí intí.   

And now for the slender “b” (appearing adjacent to the vowels “e” and “i”).  In a previous blog, I discussed the slender Irish “b” as in biúró [ByOO-roh], bureau, and b’fhiú é … [byoo ay, “fh” is silent], it would be worth (it).  As I mentioned in that blog, I mark these “b” sounds with the superscript “y.”  I’d describe these slender “b” sounds as quite slender.  It resembles the “b” in English “beauty” (as opposed to “booty,” which we’ve been through before). 

Other examples that I’d say have a particularly slender “b” are:

beo [byoh], alive

beoir [byohrzh], beer

But there’s also a “slender b” that’s not quite as articulated, and that appears in words like:

bean [ban] woman

beirt [bertch] two people

beiriú [BERZH-yoo] to boil, boiling

béirín [BAYRzh-een], little bear

biongó [BING-goh], bingo

There’s still a subtle distinction here, in comparison to the broad “b” but it’s not as salient, so I don’t transcribe it in the phonetic guide. 

Much of this seeming variation between the broad and slender sounds really has to do with the specific vowels that come after the consonant involved, rather than representing a different consonant pronunciation.  But the effect is create some variety in the best way to transcribe the sounds. 

The good news about these subtle distinctions is that they’ll be repeated with the letters f, m, and p (na consain dhéliopacha eile).  Please stay tuned for more examples. 

By the way, I also realize that not all readers of this blog are native English speakers but since the blog is dátheangach (cuid i nGaeilge agus cuid i mBéarla), I’m assuming most of the English-based references are reasonably useful.  At any rate, I get a lot of requests for more pronunciation information, and quite a few thanks as well, so it must be working.  Ultimately, of course, the goal is for learners to see Irish words and not need a pronunciation guide ar chor ar bith but that seems to take longer for Irish than with some other languages.

Gluais: dátheangach, bilingual; déliopach [DJAY-LIP-ukh] bilabial, as in consonant pronunciation; lenited and plural, this becomes dhéliopacha [YAY-LIP-ukh-uh]; maisitheoir, decorator; margóir, marketer

Sorry, all you Bobs in the Bob Club (www.thebobclub.com).  This blog’s not specifically about you, though I hope you’ll find it of interest if you’ve made it this far through cibearspás [KIB-yar-SPAWSS],. 

 

“Bob” is an Irish word that means “a trick” or “a target (in games).  Pronunciation is straightforward enough, but please remember it’s not quite the “ah” sound we find in the English name “Bob,” but rather the Irish short “o” sound as in “pota.”     

 

I should also mention that there’s another word in Irish that’s probably more widely used for “trick” in general, that is “cleas,” which also means “a feat” or “an act.”  And for talking about targets in general, we have “sprioc” and “targaid” [TAR-uh-gidj], the latter largely used in sports terminology. 

 

“Bia” is a word many of you will already recognize, “food.” 

 

No doubt a key factor in the phrase “bob nó bia” is “uaim” (alliteration), which also contributes to the tarraingteacht (catchiness) of the English “trick or treat.”  In fact, as I look for this frása in some other languages, I find a lot of emphasis on uaim.  Numerous phrases exist, although a lot of discussions indicate that the phrase is not traditional, as such.  Some contributors say something to the effect of, “Well, we don’t really say that but you could say …”  In some cases, the English phrase seems to be used in other languages.  Nonetheless, many of the samplaí are a great fóram uama (forum of alliteration):

 

Possible phrases for Trick or Treat in other languages, seachas an Ghaeilge:

 

Spáinnis: Truco o trato

Fraincis: bonbons ou bâton

Iodáilis: dolcetto o scherzetto

Portaingéilis: doces ou travessuras

Rómáinis: ne daţi ori nu ne daţi

Seicis: koleda při Halloweenu

 

Which brings me to another point.  I’ve been wondering about the Irish for “Trick or treat” for about 20 years, but never encountered the phrase in a traditional context, despite having read volumes about the Irish origin of Halloween.  So, while, this phrase is certainly part of the Irish lexicon now, it remains unclear just how traidisiúnta this particular phrase is.  A quick turas ar an Idirlíon yielded only 13 searchable examples for “bob nó bia,” which showed up presumably because of how they were tagged.  The vast comparison with the number of hits for ”trick or treat” is, well, more or less, a foregone conclusion, but I just checked and got about deich milliún (10,000,000).

 

There seems to be some reverse marketing going on, regarding Halloween, in that it is an Old World custom brought to the United States.  Now it is being exported back to Europe, mostly in a more commercial sense.  I’ve talked to European adults from various countries who say that no, it was not part of their childhood.  But now it has caught on, at least in the commercial sense (pop culture costumes, special candy manufacturing, etc.).  Of course, many of these countries have their own festivities held at other times of the year, replete with cultacha traidisiúnta nó cruthaitheacha (creative), nathanna cainte (sayings), agus bianósanna.

 

And, by the way, Bob(s), if you’ve read this far, I probably will devote a future blog to your namesake, since there are all kinds of interesting Irish words that either equate to one of the dozen or so meanings “bob” has in English, or are borrowed from English and are, therefore, also spelled “bob.”  Now if all the Bobs in the Bob Club (Cumann na mBob?) start reading this blog, that will be quite an impressive number!  An bhfuil sibh ann, a lucht na mBob? 

 

Nóta: na mBob [num ob, the first “b” becomes silent] of the Bobs

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.

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 cupániáva.”  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]

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