Here is a good example of a Gaeilge mentality shining through!

Credit to Dave Lordan, “The Bogmans Cannon” for posting this.

THE CORKMAN

In oral cultures a request for information is commonly interpreted interactively as agonistic, and, instead of being really answered, is frequently parried.

An illuminating story is told of a visitor in County Cork, Ireland, an especially oral region in a country which in every region preserves massive residual orality.

A visitor saw a Corkman leaning against the post office. He went up to him, pounded with his hand on the post office wall next to the Corkman’s shoulder, and asked:

‘Is this the post office?’

The Corkman was not taken in. He looked at his questioner quietly and with great concern:

“Twouldn’t be a postage stamp you were lookin’ for, would it?’

He treated the enquiry not as a request for information but as something the enquirer was doing to him. So he did something in turn to the enquirer to see what would happen.

All natives of Cork, according to the mythology, treat all questions this way. Always answer a question by asking another.

Moral:
Never let down your oral guard.

In Ireland places are named for a reason. There’s always a meaning behind the reason.

Over the years the though meaning may be forgotten, lost not written down and only lives on in name. The anglicisation of Irish place names under British rule does not do anything help this. Hidden behind every english place name there is a story that only becomes clear in the Irish language.

This is also true for lesser know places not on land but in the sea.

On Passion Sunday, April 1st, 1799 a tragedy happened off the Sligo Coast that changed the name of a place. That morning Patrick Maguire set sail from Sligo Quays with his cargo on his way to Teelin in South West Donegal. Patrick was the owner of a ship, the type of which is know as a Bárc (Barque). A Bárc is generally described as a boat with three or more masts having the fore- and mainmasts rigged square and only the mizzen (the aft-most mast) rigged fore-and-aft.

At that time Sligo Quays could not manage a ship over 200 tons laden, which gives us an idea of how large a vessel he had. but we know Pádraig was a shipping trader in and out of Sligo and quite possibly had a sizeable ship with a small crew.

That day at the North West point of Sligo Bay just below Raghilly Point, as Pádraig steered a course for Donegal, a storm blew up and pushed Pádraig and his ship onto a rock formation. The result was devastating. The ship was lost along with it’s owner Pádraig.

But what has this to do with place names?

Well Pádraig Mac Idhiur was an ancestor of mine. When he died a song was written about him. This song is recorded in a book with footnotes from the editor that give us the basic history of the song. A verse in the song curses the point in the sea where is happened. This area is named as “Liag Dháibhid” (St. Davids Stone). On contemporary maps this area is known as “Wheaten Rock”. The editor also indicates that the area is “Carraig na Cruithneachta”. He assumes that the differece in name is a local one. They felt that sailers from South Donegal would communicate to each other the name of area to be avoided whilst navigating in and out of Sligo Bay and that the was name quite possibly different to the one that Sligo sailers used for it.

In 1798 the Irish population was 6:1 in the favour of Catholic verses Protestant. Irish was the spoken language of the day and Sligo Quays was a busy port with lots of Irish speakers involved in the operation of a budding economy. It’s more than likely, with all the discussion that would take place at the quayside, that the names of areas such as this were the same between the two communities trading between each other.

The rock formation though is the next important part in the name. It’s not a usual rock sticking up out the sea but as described in “A Topographical Dictionary of Ireland, 1837”

“Wheaten Rock, which extends nearly half a mile to the north-east and south-west, and is partly dry at spring tides.”

It’s a huge flat rock in the water, which possibly is why they named it originally “Liag” which in Gaeilge is used at times to describe a flatter stone.

The stone was exposed on that day and when the ship crashed onto the rocks the wreckage was strewn all across the this stone. The cargo of wheat was also visible on the rock and prompted the composer of the sing to state “Where the wheat and seed will never grow”

This wreckage was quite likely to have been witnessed by many people and quite likely the talk of the town. A ship and crew lost to a storm at a time of civil upset and martial law would still generate a lot of talk. The fact it was there until the water washed it away would be a daily reminder that wheat doesn’t grow on barren rocks.

This very visible event caused “Liag Dhaidid” to be re-named “Carriaig na Cruitneacht”

Any proof that it was called “Wheaten Rocks” before the event? Well, without traveling any further that my computer, I examined over 50 antique maps of Ireland available from antique map dealers that make the map available online to view before purchase.

It’s not easy to find maps online that were created before 1798 that closely detail Raghilly Point in Sligo and the features in the sea around it.

The information at times comes from the same cartographers and just different versions of the same map appear.

The rock formation in question are not referenced on any map I looked at pre 1798. But in 1799 a cartographer named John Cary, created a new map of Ireland in great detail. This map he declared was created from “..the best sources.”

For the first time the rock formation is referenced on a map under the name “Wheaten Rock”.

It would seem possible that in the year following the tragedy that a surveyor from John Cary & Co. was in Sligo and due to the relatively recent tragedy he was informed that this rocky area in the sea just off Rahilly Point was now known as “Wheaten Rock”. Because there was nothing listed on previous maps the cartographer was happy to have surveyed new information for the map. Cary’s map was quite a good and it would seem that other cartographers took his word for it and the name stuck. The rock formation is known on every map since as “Wheaten Rock”

The original name was written out of history by a tragic event that re-defined it in the minds of the people who saw and talked about it.

Ár naman Dé iad uilig.

Martin O’Neill & his team need to learn Irish.

Not just to belt out the National Anthem before kick-off (although that would be impressive) but to improve their soccer skills!!

What does language have to do with soccer skills?

Well according to Lera Boroditsky, Assistant Professor of Cognitive Science at UCSD, research has shown that language can profoundly affect the way we see the world.

Most people that follow soccer will be aware of the Spanish style of playing where the players move the ball around with such apparent ease. They seem to be able to move and pass the ball with such ease it’s difficult to understand how they learned to do this. One noticeable point is the almost lack of hesitation when passing the ball to another team player. Regardless of the pressure put on the player they always seem to pick a good pass out.

It’s not confined to the big teams we all see on TV but whilst observing some Spanish exchange students in a kick-a-bout I could see that they too had the same natural fluidity.

Whilst studying the Spanish language from the view of structure and word order I came across an article that made me think that Spanish speakers are naturally more flexible and therefore less precious about their language.

..or something like that!

The sign that tells you where you are going is the best one.

Sounds obvious but seriously what do the national road signs of Ireland tell us about the area we are heading into?

Every place in Ireland has a name. The name generally reflects in it’s geography, it’s history, it’s misfortune, it’s glory, whatever! But it always has a meaning, and that meaning can always tell you something about the place.

We all know about the anglicisation of the Irish place names under British rule. We now have signs that have in capital letters the placename in English and the Gaeilge version usually below and in smaller italic letters.

The argument is aways going on about which language should the main one. Should we even have signs in English? The argument to English as the main language is that the Tourists might get lost or something terrible like that.

In actual fact the Tourists might visit more places if they knew the meaning of those places!!

For example:

Just North of Carraig Mhacaire (Carrickmacross) in Co. Muineacháin there is a direction sign-post with the intriguing name Éadan Giolla Riabhaigh. Of course the bearla is a very boring Edengilrevy.

So instead of boring, uninformative, it possibly should read: The Brow of the Swarthy One’s Servant”. This is my translation from a variety of sources, and it highlights the fact that in Gaeilge there is always some meaning in the naming of that area.

Using an assortment of readily available online dictionaries I was able to come up with a possible translation. I’m not claiming the translation as fact but to make the point that there is no english name for the area! It’s Éadan Giolla Riabhaigh not Edengilrevy!! And it means something!

Éadan translates to brow.

Giolla can mean servant, apostle, follower so on.

Riabhaigh translates in this case to swarthy, to describe a person ‘having dark skin’.

The area then, geographically, does live up to its’ name. A small brow of a hill looking over a relatively flat area in the immediate surroundings.

So quite possibly the Giolla of the dark skinned one had quite a heavy brow on his forehead prompting the locals to name the small brow after him!! Quite possibly he had a unibrow!

More than likely there was a building or dwelling there, maybe a religious place.

Maybe he lived there and constantly frowned at them from the brow of the hill, keeping a close eye on the local population. Any activity would be reported to the dark skinned one….

Maybe, maybe not, but Éadan Giolla Riabhaigh is a lot more interesting that Edengilrevy.

… dúl go dtí an leithreas?

When I say something in Irish to people, a majority of them look terrified and unable to answer. I generally laugh and say surely there’s one thing in Irish learned at school they can can say. 9 times out of 10 I get: “Bhfuil cead agam dúl go dtí an lethreas?”

This not a subjective sentence but an objective sentence. It has meaning to the speaker with an image that is real and not made up. It’s probably the only real Irish anyone ever had to speak in the majority of schools in Ireland.

It shows the emphasis on book Irish and not on the spoken.

Beagla aims to change that.

“Ceithre bliana, gan lá chuige nó uaidh, a bhí Séimí Phádraig Duibh nuair a cuireadh chun na scoile é.”

Seo iad na ceantair gaeilge in Éireann.

Amhran na Scadán, Éamonn Ghráinne Mac Ruairí, Oileán Thoraí,1880

“Bím ag smaoitiú ar an eangaigh ‘s ar an bhád a mbíonn sí ann
Bím ag smaoitiú ar na ramhaí ‘s á mbuillí insa toinn
Bím ag smaoitiú ar an fhearthainn ‘s ar an tréan a bhí sa ghaoth
‘s gach uair de chroch mé’n stiúir uirthi ‘s á teilm ina cionn.”