Award-winning writer Niall Griffiths talks to poet and translator Mícheál Ó hAodha about the Irish language, nuances, dialects, and the challenge and joy of translating Dónall Mac Amhlaigh’s 20th century classic into English for the first time.
Mícheál Ó hAodha is an Irish-language poet from Galway in the west of Ireland. He has written poetry, short stories, journalism and academic books on Irish social history, particularly as relating to the Irish working-class experience, and the Irish who emigrated to Britain. He is one of the very few poets since Ó Ríordáin to explore the metaphysical in the Irish language, his work encompassing themes of loss, longing, memory, love and forgetting – in collections such as Leabhar na nAistear (The Book of Journeys) and Leabhar na nAistear II. Recent translations include Seán Ó Ríordáin: Life and Work – Mercier: 2019) and This Road of Mine – Lilliput Press: 2020)
Niall Griffiths was born in Liverpool and has lived in mid-Wales for a long time now. Author of eight novels, a book of poetry, several works of non-fiction. The film of his third novel, Kelly+Victor, won a BAFTA. He has won the Wales Book of the Year twice, for the novels Stump, in 2004 and Broken Ghost in 2020. His work has been translated into around twenty languages and he has delivered readings from it all over the globe.
Two Irish migrants on the cusp of new lives in post-war Britain. Two young people who dare to dream of a better life, and dance the music of survival in their adopted homeland.
Afraid that his wife and children will arrive over any day, Trevor is in a hurry to settle old scores with his rivals and to prove himself the top fighting man within his London-Irish community of drinkers and navvies while Nano seeks to escape the stifling conformity and petty jealousies of her peers and forget her failed love-match at home.
Will Trevor finally prove himself “the man” and secure the respect that he feels is his by virtue of blood and tribe? Does Nano have it in her to break free of the suffocating bonds of home and community and find love with Lithuanian beau Julius? Written at a time when the Irish were “building England up and tearing it down again”, and teeming with the raucous energy of post-war Kilburn, Cricklewood and Camden Town this novel is one of the very few authentic portrayals of working-class life in modern Irish literature.
With the support of the Creative Europe Programme of the European Union
Are you a first-language Irish speaker? If not, when did you learn? And is there a large difference between ‘proper’ Erse and its colloquial equivalent?
I’m not a fluent Irish-speaker in the sense that I never lived in the Gaeltacht or attended a Gaelscoil (Irish-medium school). It is only in the last 20–30 years that the Gaelscoil became a common reality across the country and was accessible to people outside of the more affluent middle-class. Because of a complexity of factors today – including decades of emigration from the traditionally more-remote rural areas where Irish was/is the community language, internal migration within Ireland, urbanization and the dominance of the Anglophone world in all forms of media for hundreds of years at this stage – there are next to no children now who grow up in an environment that is monolingually Irish. The English language is constantly pressing in on Irish and many older people say that the Irish spoken by the younger generation is really a ‘creole’ or mixture of an Irish base with a lot of English words thrown in.
How does the Irish of Exiles compare to the Irish of now? Are there phrases, particular words etc. that have now fallen out of use? Are Exiles and other coterminous works a kind of amber in which earlier versions of the language have been preserved?
The Irish in Exiles is sweet. That’s all I can say to describe it. It is the Irish spoken by the older generation in Ireland, the people who left Ireland in their droves in the 1940s and 1950s for pastures new – better economic opportunities for themselves and their children, better educational opportunities, better jobs, a better life if possible… It is a richer form of Irish than that which is spoken today – there is a greater fluency and flow to it than what you hear in the Irish of today – outside of the areas on the west coast and in the north where there are Irish speakers who have rarely left their own communities and for whom Irish was their native and primary everyday mode of communication throughout their lives. There are far less English-language words adopted into the speech and it is far less Anglophone-influenced.
I was struck by certain dialect words that I use myself, for instance ‘divvy’. Why did you use such, for want of a better word, Scouse-isms?
The reasons Scouse and the other varieties of English across the UK have so many words that look ‘Irish’ is because they did come from the Irish language originally. Maybe it was an element of the colonial mindset, but people often think that some of these words came into Irish from English but it’s generally the other way around.
Many words that you find in the north of England, to take just one region in the UK – words such as ‘meidhered/mithering’, ‘crack’, ‘clobber’, ‘gammy’, ‘gobby’, ‘gansey’ (Yorkshire) – you could go on and on – come from Irish originally. It’s the same in US English – ‘shebeen’, ‘galore’, ‘shanty’ (i.e. ‘sean-tí’, lit: old house). The number of Irish-language words that have been adopted into the varieties of English across the world is enormous in all honesty.
I’ve heard it said that Erse has a somewhat narrow lexicon, and that ‘it’s impossible to make love in Irish’ (a direct quote from a pal). Do you agree with this? And is it an obstacle to overcome when translating into the huge mongrel tongue of English?
As regards the narrow lexicon, this is a huge myth that was probably promulgated under colonialism also – it is the opposite in reality. There are three different dialects in Irish – Ulster, Munster and Connacht – and about a hundred ways to tell someone they are a ‘fool’ (whether male of female) or to ‘go away and leave you alone’ or to insult someone or to describe the weather in beautiful fashion or to praise someone etc. etc. Irish is far richer and more multifaceted than English in this regard – at the end of the day, it is the oldest written vernacular in Europe. As you say, it is English that we perceive as the mongrel tongue from our standpoint over here.
Linked to the previous question is; it seems to me that you are tackling dialects within the Erse; in Exiles, as in life, the culchie has a different demotic to the Jackeen, within which are crystallised the dichotomies of city and rural existences. How do you transpose this into English? Is it a special problem? I notice, too, that you’re translating Seosamh Mac Grianna, who writes in an Ulster demotic. Are the Irish dialects markedly different to each other?
In pronunciation and sound, there are big differences in the Irish as spoken in Donegal, say, or in Kerry or Galway. But on the page, when written down, they are not so different really and you can tell where someone is from originally by certain words that they use or different accents, intonation and pronunciation. As regards the written form of Irish, there is still just a tiny fraction of the Irish population who can read a book in Irish and a far tinier cohort again (mainly academics) who can write the language. The ‘Caighdeán Oifigiúil’ (Official Standard) was only published in 1958, combining spelling reforms, promulgated a decade or so earlier with grammar standards. Revised editions of this official standard were published only as recently as 2012 and 2017.
The history of Irish as a Celtic language is markedly different than that of other Celtic languages, including Welsh, in terms of pride in the language, colonial attitudes inculcated by the Irish people themselves, the association. The Anglophone world came to dominate in Ireland hundreds of years really before similar processes began occurring in other minority-language strongholds such as Wales, the Basque Country etc.
Do you find it easier to translate into RP, BBC English than dialect English?
Not really. The Hiberno-English that I translated Mac Amhlaigh into is the type of English spoken by most people in Ireland over 40 years of age – it is the English spoken by Irish people. (Prior to the ‘uniform’ and very bland (really) mid-Atlantic vocabulary-speak and language which is spreading across the world today at a rapid pace – like a virus! – via tv, radio and the web).
The Hiberno-English of Mac Amhlaigh’s characters is about as far from BBC or ‘standard English’ as you can get because it is really the Irish language – as translated in people’s minds into English – by a people who adopted English en masse following the Famine in the late 1800s. It is not ‘proper’ English at all. In fact, in a certain sense, it probably isn’t English really at all.
You’re also translating from Cymraeg. Do you have a preference in working with Goidelic or Brythonic? Which is the more supple, or is that even a consideration? English is a plastic, malleable language; which is more amenable to that pliability, P-Celtic or Q-Celtic?
As regards which is more supple or malleable, I don’t really have a strong view on that. I learned to read Welsh by attending classes when I lived and worked in Wales for two years in the early 90s. After that, I read books in Welsh to try and keep my vocabulary going and my knowledge of the language ‘match-fit’ even when I was living in other countries such as England and France.
I asked the translator of my third novel, Kelly + Victor, whether he would use an Italian dialect in place of the Liverpudlian one of the original; Neapolitan, maybe, given that there are some similarities between the two cities. No, he answered, because if he did, readers would automatically think of Naples, not Liverpool. I understood that totally, but realised that certain elements –language politics, regional identities etc. – are inevitably lost in translation. I’m intrigued to hear your thoughts on this.
It’s true I think that certain elements – language politics, regional identities etc – are lost in translation. Ironically however, I think more of this nuance is lost when you translate from one major language/culture to another – say Chinese to English or German to Italian – as the English used in Exiles is really the Irish language in a different ‘guise’ or masked beneath the dominant language English, so not as many of those nuances are lost, I feel. That said, I hope – particularly given the changing nature of the relationship between Ireland and England today – that Mac Amhlaigh’s book will be sought out in the future by the huge segment of the British population who have Irish ancestry or whose people were part of the Irish diaspora worldwide – that they can see how hard the people who came before them worked, how they tried to carve out new lives and new identities for themselves. Basically ‘cé leis thú’ – as we say in Irish – ‘Who do you belong to? Who are you? Where do you come from?’ I’m sure that this is a large part of what Mac Amhlaigh was doing in this book – he was writing a book about the past for future generations of his own people – if that makes any sense.
What is the condition of Irish now? Does the language have a promising prognosis? From my experience, it seems that Erse, like Cymraeg, is gaining some currency amongst the young; it’s gaining the imprimatur of cool. Do you agree?
Irish became trendy about 20 years ago with the advent of a TV station in Irish and with the fact that Ireland was becoming a far more multicultural nation than before. It is still in a precarious position, however, with the areas/communities where the language is spoken as a community language shrinking all the time. The Irish language has become increasingly ‘invisible’ in official Ireland also: little used in the civil service etc. and the basic rights of Irish-speakers to use the language when liaising with the state are still denied them. While pride in the language has certainly increased as compared with previous generations (as helped by the arrival of other cultures and languages to Ireland with large-scale immigration in recent decades) and the old stigmas associated with the language – that it was the language of the poor, the uneducated or rural people, are certainly dying out – the linguists who are honest about the language say that Irish may have gone past the point of revival now as regards how many native and daily speakers of the language are left.
Irish writers in English are rightly praised and revered for the ways in which they experiment with the language, twist and batter it into unusual forms. Does this happen within the Gaelic also, or is it a product of transposition?
This still happens in the Irish language amongst the small cohort of writers and artists who have remained dedicated to the language and loyal to its art forms. I would argue that much of the dexterity and inventiveness amongst Irish writers who wrote in English – back to Joyce and Beckett and further back again – was actually a product of transposition as you mention, Niall. It is no coincidence that a writer such as Joyce – who had an extremely good knowledge of Irish; Nora Barnacle was a native Irish speaker from Galway – achieved a great deal of what he did in English partly because of the rich legacy of the Irish language culture that he inherited. Also, he was writing in English in the early 1900s just when English (a masked form of Irish in most cases) was really beginning to assume dominance amongst the majority of the population. A very interesting and insightful book on Joyce’s dexterity and integration of the Irish language into his English-language writing is Diarmuid Curraoin’s I Know That I Have Broken Every Heart: The Significance of the Irish Language in ‘Finnegans Wake’ and in Other Works of James Joyce (2013).
You can find out more, and order a copy of Exiles, here.