Posts tagged with "genitive case"

Lá na nAithreacha – Father’s Day (An Tríú Domhnach i Mí an Mheithimh)

Posted by róislín No Comments
Jun 20 2010

This blog will be a round-up of terms connected to fathers, in honor of Lá na nAithreacha (Father’s Day, lit. Day of the Fathers).  We’ll start with the basics (athair) and the less formal forms “Dad” and “Daddy,” and continue with more specialized phrases, like “godfather” and “Father Christmas.”

athair [AH-hirzh], father

How about the possessive form?  You’ve probably already seen it in the blessing, “In the name of the Father.”  Note that the spelling and pronunciation are slightly changed (-ar, not –air) because it’s sa tuiseal ginideach:

In Ainm an Athar [in AN-yim un AH-hur], In the Name of the Father

More forms of the same word:

an t-athair [un TAH-hirzh], the father

aithreacha [AH-hrzhukh-uh], fathers

na haithreacha [nuh HAH-hrzhukh-uh], the fathers

na n-aithreacha [nuh NAH-hrzhukh-uh], of the fathers

For “Dad” or “Daddy,” there are several choices: Daid, Deaid, Daide, Daidí, and Deaidí.  “Daidín” is also an alternative to “Daid” et. al. but less commonly used.  “Daidín” gives us “Na Daidíní,” a old term for the Cladach fishermen of Contae na Gaillimhe. 

And, of course, there are many related terms, of which just a sample are shown here:

 atharthacht [AH-hur-hukht, note silent t’s] paternity 

 athair altrama, foster-father

 athair céile, father-in-law. 

 athair faoistine [… FWEESH-tchin-yeh], father confessor

 Athair na Nollag OR Daidí na Nollag, Father (or Daddy) Christmas

Aithreacha na hEaglaise [… nuh HAG-lish-eh], the Church Fathers

Aithreacha na Cathrach [… nuh KAH-hrukh, silent “t”], the City Fathers

ionadaí athar or samhail d’athair, father-figure: note the two different ways these are constructed: ionadaí athar is literally “a father’s representative” whereas the “samhail” construction uses the preposition “de” with “athair,” typically contracted to “d’athair.”  So what difference does it make?  Well, using an tuiseal ginideach, for one – “father’s, i.e. of a father” expressed using the genitive case (athar) has no “i” but “of a father” using the preposition “de” keeps the original “i.”  Now isn’t that special?  Or at least interesting to lucht na mionrudaí (the detail-oriented).

athair baistí, godfather (in religious sense), lit. “baptismal father.”  That’s as opposed to Mr. “Lionheart,” úúps, I mean Mr. Corleone, who was a “seanóir,” or to be more specific, “seanóir coirpeachta.”  Of course, given the tight family connections (an understatement), he was probably an “athair baistí” as well.  “Seanóir” has a fascinating and wide range of meanings besides “godfather”: alderman, elder, elder statesman, and senior citizen.  “Coirpeacht” means “crime.”  Makes one wonder — if Mario Puzo had originally written the novel in Irish (yeah, a stretch, I know), what would have the title have been?  The double entendre would have been trickier to construct in Irish, at least with this set of words.  In general, of course, Irish lends itself to all forms of imeartas focal, as much as any other language. 

I’m not going to really tap into the terms for “grandfather” sa bhlag seo, but will when we return to the theme of Grandparents’ Day, in mid-September.  But a quick reminder, in case you really need to know: seanathair, athair mór (especially in Donegal), athair críonna (especially in Munster Irish), and familiarly, “daideo,” “daid mór,” and “daid críonna” (Grand-dad, etc.). 

If there’s not a lot of fuililiú about Father’s Day in Irish, at least not traditionally, we should remember that even in America, the holiday itself is barely céad bliain d’aois.  The date for the first Father’s Day in America is variously reported as 1910, 1916, 1924, 1966, and 1972, depending on how one defines “first” and also on what constitutes a “permanent national observance” as opposed to a “celebration” in general.

Gluais: baistí [BASH-tchee]; Domhnach [DOH-nukh], Sunday; fuililiú, hullaballoo; na Gaillimhe [nuh GAL-yiv-eh] of Galway; samhail [SOW-il, with “ow” like “ouch” or “now”] likeness, semblance; seanóir [SHAN-oh-irzh]; tríú [TRzhEE-oo], third; tuiseal ginideach [TISH-ul GyIN-udj-ukh], genitive case

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]

Saying Where You’re From “i nGaeilge”

Posted by róislín No Comments
Jun 2 2009

The terms “Gael-Mheiriceánaigh,” “Gael-Cheanadaigh,” and “Gael-Astrálach,” discussed on May 28 and earlier, account for a large percentage of the Irish diaspora, outside the U.S.  Now to get more specific.

 

Two North American groups who could have many members wishing to identify themselves in Irish are the Nova Scotians and the Newfoundlanders. In each case, there is no one-word eitneainm (ethnonym) in Irish for the group the way there is in English (a Nova Scotian, a Newfoundlander). Nor is there a hyphenated version. A Nova Scotian is “duine as Albain Nua” and a Newfoundlander is “duine as Talamh an Éisc”

 

For these two groups, the following structures would be likely—and note that we’re no longer saying, “I am an X,” but “I am from X,” as in “Is as Albain Nua mé” (I am from Nova Scotia) or “Is as Talamh an Éisc mé” (I am from Newfoundland). This construction, “I am from X,” can be used whether or not the relevant place name has an Irish equivalent. Can you figure these out?  Answers are below, to build up the dúshlán (challenge). 

 

a)     An as Haváí thú?  Ní hea, is as Alasca mé.  Tá mé i mo chadhc.   

b)     An as Alasca thú?  Ní hea, is as Haváí mé.  Tá sciorta húla orm.

c)     An as Washington thú?  Sea, is as Washington mé. 

d)     An as Washington ó dhúchas thú?  Ní hea, is as Virginia Thuaidh ó dhúchas mé.

e)     An as Nua-Gheirsí é Bruce Springsteen?  Sea, is as Nua-Gheirsí é . 

f)       An as an mbaile “Saorsheilbh” é Bruce Springsteen?  Sea, is as “Saorsheilbh” é.

g)     An as Aachen í?  Sea, is as Aachen í.

h)     An as Zelienople í?  Sea, is as Zelienople í. 

i)        An as Siceagó é Harrison Ford?  Sea, is as Siceagó é.

j)        An as Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch thú? Ní hea, ní as Llanfair PG mé. Ní as an mBreatain Bheag mé. Is as an bPatagóin mé. Tá Breatnais agam mar sin. 

 

From these, you can see that some non-Irish places have traditional Irish names (Alasca, Haváí, Nua-Gheirsí).  Most do not (Aachen, Zelienople, etc.), except for country names, almost all of which do have an Irish version and which will be Á.B.E.  But regarding city names, states, provinces, etc., whether or not there is an Irish version depends on history, tradition, perhaps inherent translatability and perhaps the interest of a translator or local Irish-language group. I still don’t see Siceagó listed in the normal Irish reference sources, but have seen it used fairly widely since around 1990 by Irish speakers from the area. “Washington” stays the same in Irish, seemingly a logical choice, since it comes from a surname. But, at least a few languages have adapted it to their own spelling systems (Waszyngton i bPolainnis; Vaŝingtono i Sprantais). It’s a little hard to predict. I must confess to adapting “Saorsheilbh,” which means “freehold,” for the town. And I imagine that if there are enough Irish speakers there, they’re doing the same thing. As for Llanfair PG in Irish, I could translate it sometime, whirlpool, red cave, and all, but it would just be for the challenge, and maybe some practice with an tuiseal ginideach (the genitive case). It’s more or less a foregone conclusion that there’s no viable Irish equivalent.   

 

a)     Are you from Hawaii?  No, I’m from Alaska.  I’m in my kayak.

b)     Are you from Alaska?  No, I’m from Hawaii.  I’m wearing a hula skirt. 

c)      Are you from Washington?  Yes, I am from Washington.

d)     Are you from Washington originally?  No, I’m from Northern Virginia originally. 

e)     Is Bruce Springsteen from New Jersey?  Yes, he is  from New Jersey.

f)        Is Bruce Springsteen from the town of Freehold?  Yes, he is from Freehold. 

g)     Is she from Aachen?  Yes, she is from Aachen.

h)      Is she from Zelienople?  Yes, she is from Zelienople.

i)        Is Harrison Ford from Chicago?  Yes, he is from Chicago.

j)        Are you from Llanfair PG?  No, I’m not from Llanfair PG  I’m not from Wales.  I’m from Patagonia. Therefore I know Welsh. 

 

 

And by the way, a tidbit overlooked in many books, but very useful and widely used: srl. = agus araile = etc.

 

Pronunciation tips:

Talamh an Éisc: TAHL-uv (TAHL-oo) un ayshk (lit. the land of the fish)

Nua-Gheirsí: NOO-uh-YER-shee (note the softened “gh”).  This is just one of three possible versions. Á.B.E.

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

Smaoinigh air sin! Smaoinigh air seo! Or, A Penny for your “Smaointe”

Posted by róislín No Comments
May 13 2009

Transparent Language’s Word of the Day recently featured “smaoineamh,” a word whose pronunciation has intrigued many of my students over the years.  Fortunately, now all you have to do is click on the WOTD link to hear it (http://www.transparent.com/wotd/today/irish.htm).  Some speakers don’t pronounce the final –mh at all (SMWEEN-yuh); others pronounce it as a “v” or “oo” (SMWEEN-yuv, SMWEEN-yoo).  Here are a few more forms of the word:

 

Smaoineamh: an idea, a thought.  This is the verbal noun and can serve either as an actual noun or, with “ag,” to indicate that the action is ongoing. 

 

Smaointe: You may remember that Enya’s early album Shepherd’s Moon included the song, “Smaointe” (thoughts, reflections).  This is the plural of the verbal noun “smaoineamh.”  Yes, Irish verbal nouns usually have plurals AND grammatical gender AND genitive cases, but more on those for blag lá fearthainne (a rainy day blog).

 

Ag smaoineamh: thinking, the act of thinking, as in “Tá mé ag smaoineamh ar uimhir idir a haon agus a deich,” (I’m thinking of a number between one and ten).  This form is used after the verb “to be” to indicate that the action is in progress.  

 

Smaoinigh: think, or reflect, in the “command form,” used to tell someone to think about or reflect upon something.  Examples: “Smaoinigh air sin!” or “Smaoinigh air seo!”  It is followed by a form of the preposition “ar” (literally “on” but here with the sense of “about”), giving us “air sin” (on that) or “air seo” (on this).  Another example I noticed recently was “Smaoinigh ar na buntáistí ar fad a bheadh ag do pháistí dá mbeidís dátheangach,” as stated on the website for www.teangafein.ie, an organization promoting Irish-English bilingualism for children [the phrase means “think on/about all the advantages that your children would have if they were bilingual”].

 

Smaoinigh: The past tense form of the same verb, as in “Smaoinigh sé air sin” (he thought about that).  For this particular verb, the past tense looks exactly the same as the command form. 

 

Smaointeoir: “The Thinker,” probably the best name for Rodin’s famous statue if we had reason to discuss it in Irish. 

 

And finally, the rhyming connection between “smaoinigh” [SMWEEN-yee] and the surname “Sweeney” has not gone unnoticed, as I recently saw in a young Dubliner’s bebo.com profile page, “Smaoinigh An Sweeney.”  Here the verb is in the past tense, so the phrase means “Sweeney thought.”  The word “an” (the) here is a carryover from an Irish naming tradition, giving us forms like “An Conallach,” (Mr. O’Connell / the O’Connell man), “An Flaitheartach “ (Mr. O’Flaherty), and “An Paorach,” as in the proverb, “Beidh lá eile ag an bPaorach” (Mr. Power will have another day, i.e. chance).  Of course, if “Sweeney” were in its original form, we’d have “Smaoinigh an Suibhneach” [SMWEEN-yee un SWIV-nyukh] so we wouldn’t have the rhyme (An Suibhneach, Mr. Sweeney or “The Sweeney man”).

 

Like most figurative idioms, the English phrase “a penny for your thoughts” doesn’t really translate into traditional Irish, but the equivalent idea is “Cad é a bhfuil tú ag smaoineamh air?” (What are you thinking of?). 

 

Ach ná bí ag smaoineamh gurb é seo deireadh an scéil, áfach.  Tá ceithre fhocal eile i nGaeilge ar a laghad a chiallaíonn “to think.”  But don’t think that this is the end of the story, however.  There are at least four other words in Irish that mean “to think.”  Intrigued?  Check back i mblag eile.

 

Bhur mblagálaí – Róislín

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