More from Robert K. Massie, Castles of Steel: Britain, Germany, and the Winning of the Great War at Sea.
Decades ago I read John Irving’s The Smoke Screen of Jutland and so was familiar with the course of the battle. I had not known, or had forgotten one story:
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JACKIE: Hello? Duirt mé leat gan glaoch orm ar an bhfón
seo, ‘Tommy … Níl mé ag iarraidh labhairt le [d.l. 30] duine ar bith faoi láthair … No, Tommy.
Níl sé d’am agam … Níl anseo ach mé fhéin agus ar Matrún … Ach ní féidir liom. No, Níl mé as
iarraidh aon bhronntanas. . . Ní dhearna tú tada orm. Tá muid sách fada ag dul amach le chéile.
Ta mé ag iarraidh briseadh faoi láthair
. Níl tada le plé, Tommy … Bhuel biodh a fhios agat anois é… No, a dúirt mé… Orm fhéin atá
an locht. Tá mé ag iarraidh a bheith asam fhéin faoi láthair … No, Tommy, Níl mé ag iarraidh
thú a fheiceail agus sin sin (Cloiseann MAIRIN na cúpla focal deiridh agus í ar a bealach ar ais
le tae.)
JACKIE: Hello? I told you not to call me on this phone. I don’t want to talk to anyone at present… No Tommy. I don’t have time … Only me and the matron are here now … But I can’t … No, I don’t want any present … You didn’t do anything to me. We’ve been going out together for quite some time. I’m trying to break up right now … There’s nothing to discuss, Tommy … Well, now you know it …. No, I said … It’s my own fault … I’m trying to be myself right now … No, Tommy, I don’t want to see you and that’s that. (MAIRIN hears the last few words as she is on her way back with tea.
MÁIRÍN: ’Bhfuil tu ceart go leor, a Jackie?
JACKIE: Tá. Yeah.
MARIN: Meall leat a chodladh i arist, maith an bhean.
JACKIE: Come on, Sally. (Ag imeacht.)
SALLY: I have fallen in love with Coilmin.
COILMIN: Up our that! Dar fia tá blaze uirthi sin ag imeacht.
MAIRIN: Ná tarraing ort i nó céasfaidh sí thú.
COILMIN: M’anam go mbainfeadh duine rattle fós aisti
MAIRIN: Stop, a bhligeaird.
COILMIN: Up our that!
MAIRIN: Codloidh ta go brea ina dhiaidh seo. Anois, a Taimin.
TAIMÍN: Níl aon chodladh orm.
MAIRIN: Beidh sé ort nuair a luifeas tú ar an leaba. Ar ndóigh tá chuile dhuine eile imithe a chodladh anois ach a bheirt agaibhse
[d.l. 31]
MÁIRÍN: Are you OK, Jackie.?
JACKIE: Yes, Yeah.
MAIRIN: You will lure her to sleep again, good woman.
JACKIE: Come on, Sally. (Leaving.)
SALLY: I have fallen in love with Coilmin.
COILMIN: Up our that! By Jove! There’s a blaze going on there.
MAIRIN: Don’t pull her or she will torture you.
COILMIN: My soul, if someone would still take a rattle from her.
MAIRIN: Stop, blackguard
COILMIN: Up our that!
MAIRIN: You will sleep well after this.
TAIMÍN: I am not sleepy.
MAIRIN: It[sleep] will be on you when you lie down on the bed.
| Meall | Beguile, charm; entice; Delude, deceive; disappoint | |
| Dar fia | By Jove! By heaven | |
| céas | crucify, torment, suffer agony | |
| tarraing | pull, draw | |
| bligeard | Blackguard | m |
I recently read Robert K. Massie’s, Castles of Steel: Britain, Germany, and the Winning of the Great War at Sea
Some of this story I knew from other books, notably Dan Van der Vat’s The Ship that Changed the World: The Escape of the Goeben to the Dardanelles in 1914. In the 1920s Winston Churchill wrote that the Goeben brought “more slaughter, more misery, and more ruin than has ever before been borne within the compass of a ship.” This was because the Goeben forced the Ottoman Empire into World War I on the German side. This in turn led to the breakup of the Ottoman Empires. Long after Churchill wrote those words we are still dealing with the consequences of that: Modern Syria, Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon, and Israel were all Ottoman provinces in 1914.
Notes and quotes concerning Myke Cole’s, The Bronze Lie: Shattering the Myth of Spartan Warrior Supremacy. From Amazon:
“The last stand at Thermopylae made the Spartans legends in their own time, famous for their toughness, stoicism and martial prowess – but was this reputation earned?”
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Notes and quotes concerning Myke Cole, Steel Lobsters: Crown, Commonwealth, and the Last Knights in England
“The total time from the moment they donned their armor , to the battle that would see them pass into legend, was about a month. It was a bright, final flash of glory – like the sparkling sun on their polished metal armor – before winking out forever.”
COILMIN: Ara, bionn a muintir isteach is amach le parcels mhóra ag cuid acu sin is gan ag an gcuid eile againn ach ag diúl a gcuid méarachaí.
MAIRIN: Luigh ar an leaba anois is bí ag ligean do scith. Tá lá mór amáireach romhainn.
COILMIN: Óra, mallacht Dé uirthi mar leaba. Nach inti sin a chaillfear muid.
MAIRIN: Gabh i leith uait, a Taimín. Cuirfidh mise a chodladh thú.
TAIMIN: ‘Bhfuil sé chomh fada sin sa lá?
MAIRIN: Ní thiocfaidh Santy Claus mara dtiocfaidh tú a chodladh luath.
TAIMIN: Níl. Níl. Níl mé ag dul ag corraí as seo nó go dtiocfaidh fear an phosta.
COILMIN: M’anam muise go mbeidh do thóin leathnaithe go maith ag fanacht, nó go dtiocfaidh scolb ar uibheachaí glugair.
MAIRIN: All right mar sin, a Taimin. Déanfaidh mé hot whiskey dhuit ós í an Nollaig í.
COILMIN: Anois tá tú ag caint! Fuisce ar a aghaidh a ólfas mise.
MAIRIN: Fainic an mbeadh aon chúthaileacht ort dhá iarraidh.
Comin: Níl, ach go raibh leisce orm a rá leat an ghloine a lionadh go barr.
MARIN: Bhuel, mhairfeá san áit a gcaillfí daoine eile.
COILMIN: Up our that. Is í an Nollaig í, Nach í, a Taimin?
TAIMIN: Is í faraor.
MAIRIN:A, ná bí bronach, a Taimín. Bain sásamh as an Nollaig agus grá mo chroí thú. [d.l. 23]
COILMIN: Alas, their people come in and out with their large parcels, while the rest of us just suck their fingers.
MAIRIN: Now lie on the bed and take a rest. We have a big day before us tomorrow.
COILMIN: Oh, God’s curse on her for a bed. Isn’t in there we will be lost.
MAIRIN: Come hither, Taimin. I will put you to sleep.
TAIMIN: Is it that late in the day?
MAIRIN: Santa Claus will not come if you do not go to bed early.
TAIMIN: No. No. I’m not going to move from here until the postman comes.
COILMIN: My soul indeed your butt will expanded in waiting, until that addled eggs will hatch.
MAIRIN: All right therefore, Taimin. I’ll make hot whiskey for you since it’s Christmas.
COILMIN: Now you are talking! I will drink whiskey in his face
MAIRIN: Beware of any shyness about asking for two.
Coilmin: No, but I was too shy to tell you to fill the glass to the top.
MAiRIN: Well, you would live in the place where others would be lost.
COILMIN: Up our that. It’s Christmas. Isn’t it, Taimin?
TAIMIN: It is, alas.
MAIRIN: Oh, don’t be sad, Taimin. Enjoy your Christmas and love of my heart for you.
| diúl | sucking, suck | m, v |
| scíth | Tiredness, fatigue; rest | f |
| mara = mura | if not, unless | |
| corraí | Movement; stir, excitement | m |
| leathnaigh | widen, extend | |
| scolb | indentation, scallop; notch; splinter; Nick; crack, chip; Lean wiry person; strapping fellow. |
m |
| ubh | egg | f pl uibheacha |
| cúthaileacht | Shyness; diffidence | f |
| leisce | Laziness, sloth; Shyness, embarrassment | f |
| faraor | alas | |
| sásamh | Satisfaction; Gratification, pleasure | m |
From Hilbert Space to Dilbert Space, and beyond 