English 150
ryanxue
Class1.pptxEng. 150: Irish Literature, Culture, Politics
Prof. Enda Duffy
Spr. 2021
Tu.-Th., 11-12.15AM, Via Zoom
TAs: Celeste Macalpin-Levitt, Christine Weidner, Erick Rodriguez, Somak Mukherjee
English 150: Irish Literature, Culture, Politics Introduction
Passion ‘Those in power write the history, those who suffer write the songs’--Frank Harte. Literature of the underdog.
Literature and Politics. Britain and Ireland, and the world
High culture from low culture. Music, dance, storytelling, gossip
Emigration and immigration. Homesickness, influence, rel to other emigrants.
Gender, genre, feeling, and poetry. The gender difference.
Frantz Fanon, and colonial psyches. Ireland as post-colonial, western state.
The nation and national identity, and how the ‘Imagined Community’ is made; ‘The Gaelic Revival’
The Irish language haunts Irish English. Hear the sound: ‘Mo Ghile Mear’
W.B. Yeats, ‘When You Are Old’
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
Ireland: Maps
5
Curfá
’Sé mo laoch mo ghille mear
’Sé mo Shaesar, ghille mear,
Ní fhuaras féin aon tsuan ná séan,
Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo ghille mear.
x2
Bímse buan ar buairt gach ló,
Ag caoi go crua is ag tuar na ndeor
Mar scaoileadh uaim an buachaill beo
Is ná ríomhtar tuairisc uaidh, mo bhrón
Ní haoibhinn cuach ba suairc ar neoin,
Táid fíorchoin uaisle ar uatha spóirt,
Táid saoithe 's suadha i mbuairt 's i mbrón
Ó scaoileadh uainn an buachaill beo
Is cosúil é le hAonghus Óg,
Le Lughaidh Mac Chéin na mbéimeann mór,
Le Cú Raoi, ardmhac Dáire an óir,
Taoiseach Éireann tréan ar tóir.
Le Conall Cearnach bhearnadh poirt,
Le Fearghas fiúntach fionn Mac Róigh
Le Conchubhar cáidhmhac Náis na nós,
Taoiseach aoibhinn Chraoibhe an cheoil.
Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear.
Mo Ghile Mear
Mo Ghile Mear—in English
Chorus
My dashing darling is my hero My dashing darling is my Caesar I have had neither sleep nor good fortune Since my dashing darling went far away x2
I am perpetually worried every day Wailing heavily and shedding tears Since my lively boy was released from me And there is no word of him, alas
The pleasure of the cheerful cuckoo at noon is gone The affable nobility are not bothered with sport The learned and the cultured are worried and sad Since the lively lad was taken from me
Chorus
He is like Young Aonghus Like Lughaidh Mac Chéin of the great blows Like Cú Raoi, great son of Dáire of the gold Leader of Éire strong in pursuit
Like Conall Cearnach who breached defences Like worthy fair haired Feargas Mac Róigh Like Conchubhar venerable son of Nás of the tradition The pleasant chieftain of the musical [Fenian] Branch
Chorus x2
Since my dashing darling went far away
‘Carrying the Songs,’ by Moya Cannon
‘
for Tríona and Maighréad Ní Dhomhnaill
Those in power write the history, those who suffer write the songs Frank Harte
It was always those with little else to carry who carried the songs to Babylon, to the Mississippi – some of these last possessed less than nothing did not own their own bodies yet, three centuries later, deep rhythms from Africa, stowed in their hearts, their bones, carry the world’s songs.
For those who left my county, girls from Downings and the Rosses who followed herring boats north to Shetland
gutting the sea’s silver as they went or boys from Ranafast and Horn Head who took the Derry boat, who slept over a rope in a bothy, songs were their souls’ currency the pure metal of their hearts,
to be exchanged for other gold, other songs which rang out true and bright when flung down upon the deal boards of their days.
From Carrying the Songs, Carcanet Press, 2007
