The Outlandish Companion - Diana Gabaldon [146]
5 Another Gaelic-speaking friend describes this sound as “the noise made by someone who’s just put their bare foot down on a slug.”
6Before the welcome advent of Mr. Taylor into my life, I was obliged to resort to such devices as were available for the creation of Gaidhlig terms: dictionaries, historical documents (which often featured highly creative spelling), and imagination. Bear in mind that when I wrote Outlander, I didn’t expect to show it to anyone—let alone anyone who spoke Gaidhlig.
7This is given as historical usage; however, neither my Gaelic expert nor my Scottish-horn UK editor has been able to discover for me exactly how one carries a small knife in one’s armpit without a sheath or holster—though the editor, Andy McKillop, helpfully suggests that perhaps the oxter hair was knotted so as to secure the knife in place. This would, of course, involve ripping the hair loose when the knife was drawn, but the ancient Scots were tough auld buggers, so maybe so. Maybe no, too.
8An early Scottish reader, with a smattering of Gaelic, expressed doubt about this expression, which she thought might mean “Yellow horses, my friend.” It isn’t right, but it isn’t yellow horses, either. Iain Taylor notes he recalls an example of Buidheachas on the label of a bottle of Drambuie, the name “Drambuie” being a corruption of “Au dram buid-heach”—“The drink that satisfies.”
9Fine, thanks. Haa u?
10I might note that while the Gaelic rendering was given courtesy of Mr. Taylor, the original sentiments expressed in Duncan’s caithris were mine. When I do things like this, I normally write them out and fax them to Mr. Taylor for translation, though on other occasions, I may simply apply to him for a suitable insult or bit of descriptive invective.
11 Hey, don’t blame me; this was supplied by a helpful French speaker from the Literary Forum.
12 The usual form of this prayer includes the word “Domine” (God or Lord), following “dona ei,” and when Young Ian repeats the English form, he uses this.
13See Appendix III, “Poems and Quotations, ”for the complete text and translation of this poem.
14Claire’s remark—“I know; I’ve read Sherlock Holmes”—refers, of course, to A. Conan Doyle’s “A Study in Scarlet,” in which a man’s corpse is discovered in a deserted house, with the word “Rache” written in blood on the wall above the body.
15NB: The German translator for Drums of Autumn, Barbara Schnell, took the trouble to use the older forms of some German terms (such as the various forms of “you”), which would have been appropriate to the eighteenth century; hence, some German expressions used in the book will not be exactly the same as modern German.
16We had quite a bit of difficulty in tracking down this reference. We finally concluded that “Cirein Croin” was originally a big whirlpool or similar such hazard, and that the name had been extended to apply to other seagoing dangers. In the course of the inquiries, though, I received the following message from Iain:
“Taking one word at a time, ’Cirean is a word used to usually mean a rooster’s comb. I’ve heard breaking waves talked of as ’Cirein (plural). ’Croin is an adjective meaning ’harmful.’ Again we’re left with the possibility of a sea-monster if it had fins or a mane that looked vaguely like a rooster’s comb or a whirlpool—’harmful waves.’ I would suggest you take your choice or explain both possibilities. I doubt if you’re going to find any argument with either.
Hamish, in his youth (for ’youth’ see the movie My Cousin Vinny), before he went to Radio class, worked on a lobster boat out of Tobermory. On one occasion the boat’s skipper was absent for some reason and Hamish was elected to deputize for him. The young ’acting captain decided he’d make a name for himself. The