Posts tagged with "fuaimniú"

(le Róislín)

Remember what gátar, déine, and tarrtháil have in common?   Hmmm, the first two have related meanings and are nearly interchangeable (beart gátair, austerity measure; cáinaisnéis déine, austerity budget) but “tarrtháil” is completely different in function as well as meaning.  It’s  an ainmfhocal briathartha, not a gnáthainmfhocal (ordinary noun).  We could also note that  “gátar” and “déine,” are “abstract nouns” (ainmfhocail theibí), making them even more different from “tarrtháil,” which is primarily an action.  “Tarrtháil” expresses a fairly physical concept of “saving.”  This could be contrasted to other concepts of saving (anamacha, srl.) for which, please see an nóta below.

So what dogátar,” “déine,” and “tarrtháil” have in common?  It doesn’t have to do with ciall per se; these three words are simply my choice of how to translate two of the five terms that leading Irish journalist Fintan O’Toole thinks should be outlawed in 2012, as he wrote  in http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/opinion/2012/0103/1224309734610_pf.html [SPOILER ALERT: I encourage you to read O’Toole’s article but you might want to wait until after you finish this blog, or even this mini-series of blogs, since the rest of this article is set up as a challenge to discover what English words O’Toole is thinking of, via Irish.]

The charge against these words, according to O’Toole?  Distortion, concealing reality, etc.  Not that he probably expects that the words will literally be exiled, but he does raise some interesting points, best expressed by O’Toole himself, as you can read in his article.

Why did I offer three Irish words for O’Toole’s two?  The question really is why do I include two words for “austerity”?  Because I think it would be unfair to “gátar” (if a word can sense unfairness) to only list “déine” for “austerity,” and likewise, it would be unfair to “déine” to only list “gátar.”  For “tarrtháil,” I’d say the choice was more straightforward, without so many tempting comhainmneacha.

So that brings us up to focal a trí on O’Toole’s list.  Again, we’ll try the same approach.  I’ll offer a group of Irish synonyms and a variety of Irish equivalents, but I won’t give the translation that completely reveals O’Toole’s third term.  That’s the dúshlán.

3.  Achrannach? Anróiteach? Deacair? Doiciúil? Doiligh? Duaisiúil? 

So, as I said, I’m not going to cut right to the chase and simply offer up one Irish word to correspond to O’Toole’s list.  Instead, we’ll look at some possibilities and their additional meanings.

achrannach: entangled, intricate, quarrelsome, rocky (regarding terrain); cf. achrann, tangled growth

anróiteach: distressing, hard, inclement (of weather), severe, weather-beaten; cf. anró, hardship

deacair: hard, reluctant, troublesome; cf. deacracht, distress, discomfort

doiciúil: hard to manage, impeding; cf. doic, impediment, hesitation, reluctance

doiligh: distressing, hard, hard to bear, hard to deal with, intractable, reluctant; cf. doilíos, affliction, reluctance, sorrow

duaisiúil: distressing, laborious, tedious, troublesome, wearying; cf. duais, dejection, distress, gloom, sorrow (not the perhaps more familiar “duais,” a prize, gift, or reward, which is a different word altogether – comhainmneacha!)

And then there’s always “crua” (hard), which can either describe something physical (clúdach crua, for a book, as opposed to “clúdach bog”) or something more abstract (obair chrua).

What is the key word that could be used to translate all of the above?  “Difficult,” and that’s no. 3 on O’Toole’s list.

Which one probably matches O’Toole’s meaning the best?  “Deacair (or ‘doiligh’) a rá,” I’d say!  “Deacair” appears to be the most widely used, and therefore is probably the best choice.   One point of comparison could be Google hits:

269,000 for “deacair,” by far the most prevalent of the six words for “difficult,” and, as far as I checked through the amais ([AH-mish], hits), “deacair” doesn’t seem to overlap with any words in other languages.  When that overlap does occur, it may give false high results for a search.  Examples of false highs include “nach,” with 2,330,000,000 hits (!), including, among others, 1) Nach, the Spanish rapper (short for Ignacio), ca. 5 million hits, 2) the German “nach” as in “Drang nach Osten,” which itself accounts for about 930,000 of those hits, and finally, the Irish “nach,” which can either be the conjunction, as in “Deir sé nach bhfuil …,” or the verbal particle, as in “Nach bhfuil …?”

18,100 for “doiligh,” which is also more typical of Northern Irish, and therefore somewhat limited in the total amount of use

6,790 for “achrannach,” including several hundred (apparently) for the phrase “achrannach liked this” (interesting in that it shows usage of the word as someone’s screen name, but that’s not our main focus here)

502 for “anróiteach,” narrowed to 165

158 for “duaisiúil,” narrowed to 46

139 for “doiciúil,” narrowed to 26

Not that volume of hits necessarily makes a word the best choice for a particular context, but in this case it seems to point to the word “deacair” covering the idea of “difficult” in the broadest possible sense.  So I’ll nominate “deacair” as most applicable to O’Toole’s focal a tríDo bharúilse?

All that to deal with just the single word “difficult”?  But wait, there’s more!  Dhá nóta thíos.  Which leads me to conclude that this mini-series should be four parts, not three, since this blog has already gotten quite long enough, thank you very much.  So please stay tuned for Cuid a Trí agus Cuid a Ceathair.  SGF, Róislín

Nóta 1 (re: tarrtháil agus focail eile ar “saving”):  Tarrtháil overlaps somewhat with the word “sábháil,” but “sábháil” can mean “save” either in the physical sense (“é a shábháil ar an mbás”) or in the spiritual (“anam a shábháil”).  Other words for “save” or “saving” also tend to be on the abstract, or at least the non-physical side (anam a shlánú, which is another way to say “to save a soul;” é a shlánú air, to indemnify him against it; banc taisce, savings bank).  “Tarrtháil” is more typically “save” in the sense of “rescue” (é a tharrtháil óna bhá / óna bhás, to save him from drowning / death; gléas tarrthála, life-saving apparatus; tuga tarrthála, a salvage-tug; rafta tarrthála, a life-raft; seaicéad tarrthála, life-jacket, etc.).

In summary, then:

Tarrtháil, to save, usually in the physical sense

Sábháil, to save, physically or spiritually

Slánú, to save, usually spiritually (cf. Slánaitheoir, Savior, Redeemer)

Taoscadh, to bail out, pump out, drain, shovel, earth up

I’d have to acknowledge  that using the word “save” (tarrtháil) for “bailout” doesn’t have quite the edgy sense of desperation evoked by the image of the sinking boats.  Not that our budget planners are literally out there in a sinking ship (hmmm?), getting bailed out with buckets (that would be “taoscadh”) but the expression is used figuratively in English.  To appropriate “taoscadh” for “bailout” in the economic sense in Irish would be a really big stretch; at any rate, modern Irish usage gives us “tarrtháil” for this purpose.

[And now for the “fonóta,” which is now beagnach chomh fada le blag féin!]

Fonóta: Speaking of “bailing,” just a reminder here that this is “bail” spelled with an “i.”  As we can see from the abundant commentary on the topic (http://www.beedictionary.com/common-errors/bail_vs_bale, http://public.wsu.edu/~brians/errors/bail.html, or [Bryan] Garner’s Modern American Usage, http://www.oup.com/us/catalog/general/?view=usa&ci=9780195382754, under bail/bale, m. sh.), there’s a lot of confusion on this spelling issue, and considerable leeway as well, depending on if you’re using British or American English.  “Baling” or “to bale” is usually for hay, cotton, or packages (baling wire, etc.).   At any rate, don’t try “baling” the water in the boat, or you might end up with the liquid version of the “súgán sneachta,” as immortalized by Mairéad Ní Ghráda in her 1959 dráma of the same name and by Tadhg Mac Dhonnagáin in his amhrán of the same name on his album “Imíonn an tAm” (2004:  http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/tmdhonnagain3).  Súgán sneachta – now that’s a topic that deserves a bhlag féin!

Nóta 2 (re: fhuaimniú): Isn’t it nice when English homophones generate all kinds of confusion and the corresponding Irish words are nice and straightforward and logically spelled?  I can’t think of any other Irish word that sounds like “taoscadh.”  Hurá!  It’s also interesting to consider how much of the homophone problem in English is caused by that ever-present silent “e” (as in “bale,” bate/bait, cane/Cain, Dane/deign, pane/pain, bore/boar, brake/brake, etc.).  Irish, quite logically, doesn’t have that silent “e” issue; final e’s, while not stressed (aiceanta), are usually articulated, unless the speaker is talking a mile a minute and the final “e” is glommed onto a following word that starts with a vowel (Tá páiste anseo [taw PAWSH-tchun-shuh]).  In that case, it’s not officially “silent;” it’s just swallowed.  There was an old lady who swallowed a guta neamhaiceanta — nah, that would truly be a digression.

Final e’s in Irish also don’t have that perplexing habit we find in English, where they sometimes cause the previous vowel to be pronounced long (can/cane, ban/bane, kit/kite, con/cone) and sometimes not (have, give, one, and the double-agent “live/live”).  What, you ask, what about all those silent letters, and consonant and vowel clusters, in Irish?  Yes, it does have its fair share, as in bhfuil, aghaidh, bhfaighidh, fhadhb, and aoi / aíonna, which was formerly aoighe / aoigheadha (!).  Yeah, I get it, consain chiúin go leor, consain a fhuaimnítear mar ghuta, trí ghuta i gcrobhaing, séimhiú, urú!  Well, to that, I can simply say, each language has its leithleachais, or should I say “À chacun son goût” (or should that be “À chacun songuta’”?).  Ba-dum-bum-ching (and that’s probably the same in any language, at least in any language that has a stand-up comedy tradition)!  “Buille imill,” to be technical about it.

Gluais: ainmfhocal briathartha [AN-yim-OK-ul BREE-uh-hur-huh, with both t’s silent], verbal noun; anam, soul; , drowning; bás, death (ar an mbás [err un mawss], here: “from death”); ciall, meaning; crobhaing, cluster; dúshlán, challenge; imeall, rim, border (genitive form: imill); leithleachas, idiosyncrasy; neamhaiceanta, unstressed; óna, from his (ó, from + a, his)

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.

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. 

We recently had a ceist (question) about some terms having to do with inimirce (immigration).  Seo samplóir téarmaí: 

 

port eisimirce, emigration port, mar shampla, An Cóbh, Contae Chorcaí.

 

port inimirce, immigration port, mar shampla, Filideilfia, Pennsylvania

 

A similar term is “longphort iontrála,” lit. ship-port of entry

 

That last term introduces “long,” the word for “ship.”  A few samples with “long” or its possessive form “loinge”:

 

lastliosta loinge, ship’s manifest (lit. “cargo-list of ship”)

 

Can you figure out what types of ships these are?  See clues below.

 

long chogaidh, long fhada, long Lochlannach, long sholais, cathlong, and lastlong

 

Getting back to the word “port,” it’s quite well established in Irish.  It shows up clearly in a variety of place names, such as Port an Dúnáin (Portadown), Port Láirge (Waterford), and Port Stíobhaird (Portstewart), to name just a few. 

 

Slightly disguised, it also appears in words and phrases like:

calafort, harbor, based on “caladh” (landing place, port) and “phort” (lenited form of “port”). Yes, the phrase is almost an athluaiteachas rófhoclach (redundant tautology) but no more so than “salsa sauce” (“salsa” meaning sauce) or “chicken pollo” (“pollo” meaning chicken).

Tollán Chalafort Bhaile Átha Cliath, Dublin Port Tunnel,

aerfort, airport, based on “aer” (air) and “phort” (lenited form of “port”),

Aerfort na Sionainne, Shannon Airport, and,

Aerfort Iarthar Éireann, Cnoc Mhuire, Ireland West Airport Knock, in County Mayo. 

 

And, by the way, if you’re talking about birds, that’s “imirce” (migration).  A migratory laborer, in the Irish context, is a spailpín, as immortalized in the folksong, “An Spailpín Fánach.”  That song, in turn, has lent its name to a gift shop specializing in Irish-language t-shirts, toys, and gifts, www.spailpin.com, located in the heart of the Conamara Gaeltacht, an Spidéal.  More formally, a migratory laborer would be called an “oibrí imirceach.” 

 

Leideanna (clues):

cogadh, war; fada, long; Lochlannach, Viking; solas, light; cath, battle; lasta, cargo

 

Leideanna fuaimnithe:

ceist [kesht], Cnoc Mhuire [knuk WIR-eh], eisimirce [ESH-IM-irk-yeh], long chogaidh [lung KHUG-ee], long sholais [lung HOL-ish], mar shampla [mahr HAHMP-luh].  A final note, to pronounce the word for ship, “long,” it may look just like the English word “long” (in length), but isn’t pronounced quite the same.  It’s closer to English “lung,” and probably best described as halfway between English “lung” and “long.” 

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