The Scottish Prisoner - Diana Gabaldon [196]
Scots/Scottish/Scotch—As I’ve observed in the notes to other books, the word “Scotch,” as used to refer to natives of Scotland, dropped out of favor in the mid-twentieth century, when the SNP started gaining power. Prior to that point in history, though, it was commonly used by both Scots and non-Scots—certainly by English people. I don’t hold with foisting anachronistic attitudes of political correctness onto historical persons, so have retained the common period usage.
“Yellow-johns” and “swarthy-johns” were both common Irish insults of the period used in reference to the English, God knows why (cf. Ireland and the Jacobite Cause, 1685–1766: A Fatal Attachment, by Éamonn Ó Ciardha).
Gàidhlig/Gaeilge
The Celtic tongue spoken in Ireland and Scotland was essentially the same language—called “Erse”—until about 1600, at which point local variations became more pronounced, followed by a big spelling shift that made the Gaelic of the Highlands (Gàidhlig) distinct from the Irish Gaelic (Gaeilge). The two languages still have much in common (rather like the relation between Spanish and Italian), but would have been recognizably different even in 1760.
Now, with reference to my own novels, I did know that Gaelic was the native tongue of the Scottish Highlands, when I began writing Outlander. Finding someone in Phoenix, Arizona (in 1988), who spoke Gaelic was something else. I finally found a bookseller (Steinhof’s Foreign Books, in Boston) who could provide me with an English/Gaelic dictionary, and that’s what I used as a source when writing Outlander.
When the book was sold and the publisher gave me a three-book contract, I said to my husband, “I think I really must see the place,” and we went to Scotland. Here I found a much bigger and more sophisticated Gaelic/English dictionary, and that’s what I used while writing Dragonfly in Amber.
And then I met Iain. I got a wonderful letter from Iain MacKinnon Taylor, who said all kinds of delightful things regarding my books, and then said, “There is just this one small thing, which I hesitate to mention. I was born on the Isle of Harris and am a native Gaelic-speaker—and I think you must be getting your Gaelic from a dictionary.” He then generously volunteered his time and talent to provide translations for the Gaelic in subsequent books, and the Gaelic in Voyager, Drums of Autumn, The Fiery Cross, The Outlandish Companion, and A Breath of Snow and Ashes is due to Iain’s efforts, and those of his twin brother Hamish and other members of his family still residing on Harris.
At this point, Iain was no longer able to continue doing the translations, but I was extremely fortunate in that a friend, Catherine MacGregor, was not only a student of Gaelic herself but was also a friend of Catherine-Ann MacPhee, world-famous Gaelic singer, and a native speaker from Barra. The two Cathys very generously did the Gaelic for The Exile and An Echo in the Bone.
And then I rashly wrote a book that not only involved Scottish Gaelic and Irish, but actually employed the language as a plot element. Fortunately, Cathy and Cathy-Ann were more than equal to the challenge and dragooned their friend Kevin Dooley, musician, author, and fluent Irish speaker, to provide those bits as well.
One thing about Gaelic is that it doesn’t look anything like it sounds—and so my ever-helpful Gaelic translators kindly offered to make a recording of themselves reading the bits of Gaelic dialogue in the book aloud, for those curious as to what it really sounds like. You can find this recording (and a phonetic pronunciation guide) on my website at www.DianaGabaldon.com, or on my Facebook page at www.facebook.com/AuthorDianaGabaldon.
Gaelic and Other Non-English Terms
Here, I’ve just listed brief common expressions that aren’t explicitly translated in context.
Moran taing—thank you
Oidhche mhath—good night
Mo mhic—my son
Scheisse!—Shit! (German)
Carte blanche—literally “white card,” used as an expression
in picquet to note that one holds a hand with no points.