Wednesday 31 December 2014

Shaleeyn 2015

As shoh 2015!

Daa vlein erash, chooilleen mee yn Çhalee Lhaih as giarrey y carnane lioaryn ry-lhaih aym sheese dys 50. Cre'n obbyr noa ta foym?

Wahll, ta'n carnane erash. Kyndagh rhym cummal 'syn Çhapaan rish shey meeghyn, ta ymmodee lioaryn aym reesht, as cooid vooad jeu 'syn Çhapaanish. By vie lhiam, reesht, giarrey shen dys 50.

Chammah's shen, ta ymmodee filmyn aym er JABE, son s'mie lesh sleih elley cur JABEyn dou. By vie lhiam cooid vooar jeu y 'akin as ceau magh, giarrey eh dys 20 foddee. Ta mee foast geddyn jyskyn dagh mee liorish Lovefilm, myr shen nar lhig dooin reih dean neuyannooagh.

Cur jerrey er Dreadfleet. Ta mee foast troggal yn gamman shoh hooar mee daa ny tree bleeantyn erash! By vie lhiam eh y chloie laa ennagh!

As erskyn shen, cur lhiam fer jeh ny shaleeyn screeuee aym dys stayd cooilleenit. Gamman, skeeal, red erbee dy jarroo. Ta mooarane jeu ayn. By vie lhiam jerrey er red ennagh y chur mleeaney.

...oh, as feddyn staartey. Shen scanshoil, dy jarroo.


Hello 2015!

Two years ago, I completed the Reading Project and hacked my pile of unread books down to 50. What's new for 2015?

Well, sadly, the mountain is back. Especially due to me living in Japan for 6 months, I once again have too many unread books, many of them now in Japanese. I'd like to once again get that down to 50, though it's a big task.

That not being enough, I also have rather too many films on DVD, since people tend to give me those. I'd like to watch and dispose of a good chunk of those to clear space. Maybe down to 20 or so? I still get monthly DVDs from Lovefilm too, so let's not get too ambitious.

Finish painting Dreadfleet. I've been assembling this board game for a couple of years now, though there are many reasons for this. Nevertheless, I'd like to actually play it one day!

And above that, I'd really like to get one of my myriad writing projects to a finished state. A game, a story, anything really. I have so many on the boil, half-done. I'd like to get something accomplished this year.

...oh, and I should really find a job. That's pretty important.

Sunday 16 November 2014

Baase Phan

Tra rosh ny turryssee Lunninagh Arcady, ren ad dobberan, yn derrey yeh gys y jeh elley, mychione baase Phan. As drasteyn honnick ad eshyn, ny lhie stark as taaue. Cha darree Pan ny h-Eairkyn, as va'n fynney echey fo druight; cha row cummey baagh bio er. As eisht dooyrt ad, "S'feer eh dy vel Pan marroo."

As, nyn shassoo dooagh rish y chorp foawragh ny lhie, yeeagh ad rish foddey dy hraa ec Pan imraagh.

As haink fastyr, as haink rish rollage beg.

As ny sheyn, ass claghan glion Arcadagh ennagh, haink doodeeyn Arcadagh as adsyn goaill arrane eddrym.

As tra yeeagh ad ersyn, er y çhenn Jee ny lhie 'sy cheeiraght, scuirr ad as loayrt rish y cheilley myr sannish. "Nagh ommidjagh y cummey t'er," as ad, as gearey dy feagh lesh shen.

As rish sheean gearey, ren Pan lheimmey seose, as va'n garvel skeaylt ec e chrubbyn.

As choud cheddin as hannee ny turrysee nyn shassoo as eaishtagh rish, va sheeanyn eiyrtys gennal aavuilley jeh carrickyn as mullee Arcady.


Ta'n skeealeen shoh çhyndaait ass The Death of Pan liorish yn Çhiarn Dunsany. Ta'n lioar vunneydagh ry-lhaih er Project Gutenberg.

Wednesday 22 October 2014

Ny Tree Mec Vooarey

As fy-yerrey hrog Deiney er ard gloyr s'jerree ard-veenid, troggal smoo ny caayrey yerrinagh.

Ayns duinid thallooin foddey foue, ren jeshaghtyn cronnane rish cooilleeney dagh ooilley feme v'oc; cha row laboraght erbee ry-yannoo ec Deiney. Ghow ad aash nyn soie, as coloayrt er yn 'Eysht Keintys.

As nish as reesht, ass magheryn jarroodit, haink shenn ven voght as shirrey jeirk. Haink ee dy doccaragh dys y dorrys sodjey magh, dys arragh sodjey ghloyr yerrinagh Gheiney. As dagh cheayrt hug ad cooyl ee. Cha row y chaayr shoh, ard-obbyr Gheiney, cooie jee.

She Najoor haink shirrey jeirk ass my magheryn, as hug ad cooyl ee dagh keayrt.

As ersooyl lhee reesht dys ny magheryn.

As laa dy row haink ee reesht, as reesht ren ad dy jiooley. Agh haink tree mec vooarey mâree.

"Hie stiagh adsyn," as ish. "Adsyn my vec, stiagh 'sy chaayr eu."

As hie stiagh ny tree mec vooarey.

As shoh mec Najoor, cloan agglagh y ven hreigit: Caggey, Genney as Plaih.

Dy jarroo, hie ad stiagh as feddyn Deiney gyn yss 'sy chaayr oc; foast smooinaghtyn er ny Feyshtyn oc, lhiantyn hug yn ard-veenid oc, gyn eer clashtyn rish y cheimnaghey as ad nyn dree tayrn faggys daue.


Ta'n skeealeen shoh çhyndaait ass The Three Tall Sons liorish yn Çhiarn Dunsany. Ta'n lioar vunneydagh ry-lhaih er Project Gutenberg.

Monday 6 October 2014

Yn Scaa Harrish Innsmouth: cleayney Zadok Allen

Shegin da teaym roonagh ennagh—ny cleayn sharroo er bun dorraghey follit—er chur orrym caghlaa yn aigney v’orrym. Va mee er giarail rish foddey nagh derrin geill agh da seyrnaght hene, as ec y traa shid hene va mee jannoo siyr cour Kerrin y Valley myr eab dy hirrey arraghey leah ass y valley yngyragh baaish as loau. Aght ennagh, tra honnick mee shenn Zadok Allen, haink rish strooanyn noa ‘syn aigney aym, as ren mee feiyal as mish neuhickyr.

Va’n aeglan er my hickyraghey nagh niarragh y shenn dooinney agh sannishyn keoie brisht er skeealyn erskyn credjue sheelt. Harrish shen, v’eh er chur raaue dou nagh beagh eh sauçhey loayrt rish dy vaikagh ynnydee erbee shen. Ny yei shen, va’n shenn ‘eanishagh jeh fioghey y valley ny violagh nagh dod mee shassoo n’oi. Va’n cooinaghtyn echey roshtyn erash dys eashyn lhongyn as thieyn-obbree; son nagh vel beeal-arrish whaagh cheoie dy mennick ny cochaslys chowreydagh er bun cree firrinagh? Shegin da’n shenn ‘er er vakin dagh ooilley chooish Innsmouth rish jeih bleeaney as kiare feed. Ghooisht accrys scoillaragh aynym ny stroshey na keeal as arrey; as corvian aegid orrym, heill mee dy noddin creearey cree shennaghys hene ass y deayrtey breagagh fud-y-cheilley darragh jeh, gyn ourys, fo greim jough lajer.

Saturday 30 August 2014

Just how much do they want language skills?

English is here: English version

Hooar mee daa art er y Guardian er y gherrid. Va’n jees oc mychione shirrey staarey, as anaasoil dy liooar, as by vie lhiam loayrt orroo began. Shoh y chied.

Shoh eh: My languages guilt: am I making the most of my degree?. Ga dy vel mee currit da çhengaghyn, cha nel keim ollooscoillagh ayns çhengaghyn aym, myr shen she smooinaght as tastey t’ayn heese, cha nee keeayl chionnit.

Six months after graduating, I found myself working as a server in the kitchen of a country hotel. I was not even allowed to take orders from customers, such was my meagre role. The only time my language skills came in useful was when the French pastry chef berated me for getting in his way.

The recently departed education secretary, Michael Gove, underlined how important languages are. He said: "There is a slam-dunk case for extending foreign language teaching to children aged five.

Agh myr t’ee soilshaghey magh, ta cooid smoo jeu feddyn staartaghyn nagh vel ‘staartaghyn çhengaghyn’ hene. T’ad gobbraghey ‘sy leigh, argidys, margeeys, soilshaghey magh lioaryn, ny reirey. Cha nel yn ughtar gra nagh vel ad cooie da keimagh çhengey noadyr. Rere y bun-resooney eck, cha nee schlei çhengaghyn ta lhiggey daue geddyn lheid ny staartaghyn – she keim erbee, schleiyn yn-astreeaghey, as dy mennick, prowal obbyr (‘work experience’).

My ta shen feer, cre’n fa dy vel wheesh dy leih cur trimmid er ard-scansh çhengaghyn da farrys ny çheerey, as shassoo er dy vel failleyderyn jeean son sleih as ablid çhengaghyn oc? Nagh vel lheid ny h-obbree jeeaghyn er ny staartaghyn kiart as cooie? Er y laue elley, vel staartaghyn ass towse ry-gheddyn ec yl-hengee gyn keim ayns çhengaghyn?

Dy jarroo, smoo doillee da keimee hengey feddyn staartey (DLHE taabyl E) na keimee oyraghyn elley. Cha nel agh shennaghys, fallsoonys as y leigh ny smessey, as son y chooid smoo, shegin da leighderyn jannoo studeyrts elley roish my nod ad geddyn staartey ‘sy leigh.

I remember that when I graduated, I was faced with a blanket of nothingness; the only options in front of me were the competitive graduate schemes (most of which required that I sit some kind of maths test which I was almost guaranteed to fail), a masters (I'd had enough of studying for the time being), target-hitting sales roles (not for a person who finds it hard to say no), or teaching. None of that appealed. I felt betrayed.

Shoh doilleeid ainjyssagh dou. Er lhiam dy vel politickeyryn, çhynskyleyryn as lheid ny fir vooarey boirey er schlei çhengaghyn ‘sy aght cheddin as caghlaa emshyraght. Dy ghra myr shen: ta ennaghtyn dy liooar oc dy vel ad loayrt er ard er trimmid y doilleeid; t’ad shassoo er dy vel eh lane scanshoil dy vel sleih elley jannoo nyn gooid share dy chaghlaa y chooish; as t’ad jannoo obbyr chowreydagh nish as reesht dys cowraghey magh, “jeeagh, ta mee boirey er y chooish!”. Agh s’goan ass towse dy vel peiagh erbee as cummaght oc jannoo red erbee feeu dy chaghlaa y chooish.

Rere jerkallys, she argid t’ayn son y chooid smoo, er lhiam.

Tarmaynys as çhengaghyn

My ta failleyderyn cur tastey erbee da’n chooish, t’ad er son skimmee yl-hengagh, gyn ourys. Cre’n argane t’ayn? My t’ou dty obbree chadjin, t’eh cooney lhiat dellal rish cliantyn as custymeyryn ass çheeraghyn elley. My t’ou gobbraghey er cooishyn leighoil, t’eh coontey lhiat jannoo conaantyn fondagh marish cliantyn ny lughtyn-dellal elley. My t’ou dellal rish margeeys ny creck reddyn, t’eh cooney lhiat ardjaghey troaryn, shickyraghey studeyryn-ry-heet, tayrn tastey buird scrutee as shaleeyn oc ry-hebbal, as myr shen magh. My she kiarail-chustymeyryn t’ayn, t’eh ny sassey dhyt blandeyragh custymeyryn, feaysley magh doilleeidyn, cosney treisht as myr shen. My she ronsaghey ny shirveishyn-fysseree t’ayn, t’eh lhiggey dhyt toiggal rheamys smoo dy chooid, as myr shen, t’eh ny sassey feddyn fysseree er lheh, chammah’s cummal seose rish y traa t’ayn. My she ym-ysseraght, foddee oo loayrt dy jeeragh rish shirveishtyn-naightey ayns çheeraghyn as çhengaghyn elley; t’eh shaghney çhyndaays mee chiart ny daa-cheayllagh, as reddyn meevaynrey, as share lesh sleih my t’ou cur freggyrt jeeragh daue.

Chammah’s ooilley shen, my ta çhengey elley oc, s’cosoylagh dy vel oo heose rish cooishyn çheumooie jeh Cryss ny Baarle, as foddee oo feddyn magh fys ny caaghyn vondeishagh da’n cholught.

Ny smoo na shen, cha nel neuvondeish erbee ayn! Ta ablidyn elley doillee ny keayrtyn. Ta hene-barrantys jannoo fer toshee mie jeed, as foddee dy vel oo creck ram stoo, ny jannoo conaantyn vondeishagh er y fa shen. Er y laue elley, ta ro-hickyrys ny vun marranys myrgeddin: shimmey tonn eddyr y lhong as y traie. Ta ablid co-earrooderyn slane femoil, agh shegin dhyt ynsaghey reddyn noa dy mennick, as ta shen deyr. Cha nel neuvondeish erbee da skimmee daa-hengagh, goaill rish dy vel Baarle (ny Gaelg, ny çhengey erbee y cholught) ‘laaoil oc.

Gow rish failleyderyn yn ablid shen as ad maynrey. Agh cha nel ad son eeck er e hon.

Er lhiam, er lesh failleyderyn, dy nee “schlei neufondagh” ad çhengaghyn. Shimmey ablid scanshoil elley ta “neufondagh” myrgeddin. Smooinee er schlei “eddyr-phersoonagh” myr sampleyr. T’ou jannoo ymmyd jeu ‘syn obbyr son dy loayrt rish custymeyryn, kiunaghey sleih tra ta doilleeid ayn, tayrn as shickyraghey cliantyn a.r.e. (as son politickaght obbree!) . Agh ta laue foddey ny smoo oc, son shoh yn ablid ta croo coardailys as maynrys ‘sy cholught, as shimmey eiyrtys mie ta geiyrt orroo: creeaght, troaraght, coyrle mie, sharaghey obbraghyn, injillaghey asslaynt obbree, a.r.e. Atreih, cha nod oo towse ad dy mie, ny cur leagh fondagh er lheid yn ablid. Er y fa shen, s’goan dy vel sleih goaill rish, ny cur tastey da rish listal obbree noa (shegin dhyt gra dy vel ad oc, agh quoi ec ta fys?), ny faill er nyn son.

As ablid çhengey myrgeddin. Dy jarroo, she red mie dy vel 20 çhengey ec y skimmee (goaill rish dy vel un cho-hengey eddyr oc!); agh mannagh vel y colught lane churrit da obbraghey eddyrashoonagh, ny cliantyn ass çheeraghyn elley, ny dellal rish ram cooid ayns çhengaghyn joarree, she red mie t’ayn as shen ooilley. Foddee dy bee vondeish echey nish as reesht, agh vondeish beg. Abbyr dy vel y reireyder stoyr-fysseree ny lhee-coonee as teisht eck, ny dy nod y screeudeyr imman lorree. Nee oo shirrey orroo jannoo ymmyd jeh’n ablid shen nish as reesht, foddee, agh cha nee oo cur eh er y chonaant obbree, chamoo eeck da er ny hon agh ny keayrtyn shen.

Co-ennaghtyn marish y jouyl

Cha nel mee jannoo cassid er ny failleyderyn edyr. Mannagh vel çhengaghyn lane femoil da staartey, cha nel eh keeayll dy chur ablid çhengaghyn 'sy choontey staartey. Mannagh vel ablid 'sy choontey staartey, cha nel eh ort jannoo ymmyd jeh, chamoo yiow oo faill er e hon. 'Syn 'eill, t'eh çheet dy ve neuvaghtal; ta taghyrtyn ayn tra nee oo ymmyd jeh'n ablid ga nagh vel eh "femoil", son ta'n ablid ayds as t'eh jannoo ny sassey ny t'ort jannoo eh. Dy jarroo, ta ablidyn ayn s'mie lesh sleih jannoo ymmyd jeu (goaill stiagh çhengaghyn, co-earrooaght, as ellyn dy mennick) son t'ad goaill soylley jeu, as nee ad ymmyd jeu ga nagh vel ad cosney argid lioroo.

Er y laue elley, lhisagh failleyder cur sar-'aill dou er y fa dy vel ablid çhengey aym as dy vel mee jannoo ymmyd jeh 'syn obbyr nish as reesht - ga nagh hirr ad lheid yn ablid as nagh vel eh femoil son jannoo y staartey? Cha nel shen keeall. Ny keayrtyn, my ta ablid çhengey ec yn obbree, ta'n colught çheet dy yerkal rish shen as jannoo ram ymmyd jeh'n ablid shen nagh vel oo faillit er e hon, as t'eh çheet dy ve cramp. Ayns colught traghtee, ta faill so-lhoobagh as yn-argane dy mennick, as myr shen foddee oo aggyrt da'n reireydys dy vel eh orroo cur sur-lhieeney dhyt son yn ablid shen, son tra ghow oo rish yn 'aill aaragh, cha ren eh goaill stiagh yn ablid shen. Ayns commyn y theay, ta corys-faill soit son y chooid smoo, as cha nel ad so-lhoobagh er chor erbee (wahll... son sleih beggey). Dy cadjin, ta ablidyn as obbraghyn kianglt rish keim 'aill; as ny keayrtyn, lhisagh y curmeyder lhiettal uss veih jannoo ymmyd jeh ablid ennagh, er nonney veagh eh orroo y cheim ayd y ardjaghey!

As mish gobbbraghey ayns lioarlann ollooscoillagh, ren mee ram ymmyd jeh ny çhengaghyn aym ga nagh vel mee flaaoil er chor erbee. Shimmey peiagh v'ayn ass yn Ghermaan ny'n Çheen. Dy jarroo, va Baarle yindyssagh oc son y chooid smoo, agh ny yei shen bare lesh kuse jeu loayrt y çhengey ghooie oc marym. Va kuse elley jannoo ronsaghey shallidagh, as cha row Baarle flaaoil oc; myr shen v'eh share çhengey elley y loayrt. Erskyn shen, ta sar-tasht-fockle quaagh ec ollooscoillyn, as ec lioarlannyn, as ec lioarlannyn ollooscoillagh erskyn ooilley. Dy cadjin, cha nel sar-fockle goan ennagh (ny ymmyd er lheh jeh) er enney ec sleih ass çheer elley. Dy jarroo, v'eh doillee dy liooar dauesyn as Baarle ghooie oc, ny keayrtyn! 'Sy chooish shoh, she red mooar eh çhengey elley y loayrt. Dod mish ynsaghey y tasht-fockle cooie 'sy çhengey, as eisht dod mee soilshaghey cooishyn crampey da ymmodee sleih ga nagh row y tasht-fockle shen oc 'sy Vaarle - wahll, derrey dynsee mee ny focklyn daue. Chammah's shen, va lioaryn ayns çhengaghyn elley ain, as myr shen dod mee gobbraghey orroo ny s'tappee na co-obbree elley. Row feme er ny çhengaghyn shen son y staartey aym? Cha row, gyn ourys. Agh er y fa dy vel ad aym, dod mee cur shirveish share da co-obbree as cliantyn? Gyn ourys.

Ta mee er nobbraghey 'sy voayl rish shey bleeantyn. Ta sleih cliaghtit rish yn eie dy vel peiagh ry-gheddyn as y çhengey shoh ny shen aym, tra ta feme oc er cooney er lheh ny tra t'ad jannoo ymmyd jeh lioaryn ayns çhengey joarree. Ny yei shen, as mish er vaagail, cha nee y ben-chione cur stiagh "ablid çhengey" er y rolley tra t'ee shirrey peiagh ynnydagh dou. She leagh neuloaghtagh t'ayn mannagh vel yn ablid shen oc; cha nod oo cur feeu er. Er lhiam, ta caa share daue cur "ablid co-earrooder" er y rolley, son ga nagh row shen femoil da'n staartey hooar mee, ta mee er ngoaill orrym pene shaleeyn co-earrooder rish ny bleeantyn. Gyn yn ablid shen, bee eh orroo scuirr shaleeyn, ny surranse gyn oltscarrey fysseree b'oallagh dou jannoo eh. Shen coayl fondagh as discreadjagh.

Ta cooishyn elley ayn, gyn ourys. S'cooin lhiam dy mie tra hoilshee jantys faillee 'sy valley son screeudeyr: begin da Spaanish as Frangish flaaoil ve echey, chammah's y Vaarle, as cre'n faill hebb ad? Y faill cheddin as y fogrey rish son screeudeyr as Baarle ynrican echey! Cha nel mee shirrey lheid ny focklyn, as cha dod mee feddyn fysseree mie dy tappee, agh er lhiam son y chooid smoo nagh vel ad garral faill share tra t'ad shirrey ablid çhengey ayns staartaghyn cadjin. Vel ad credjal, foddee, dy vel çhengey 'laaoil ny tro neuchramp, ga dy vel ad cur leagh er keim ollooscoillagh ny teisht çhaghnoaylleeagh? Agh er lhiam dy nee colughtyn beggey t'ayn, as ta toiggalys share ec colughtyn yl-heeragh.

Loayrt gyn jannoo

'Syn aght cheddin, ta politickeyryn as failleyrderyn loayrt dy mennick er dolley ablid çhengey ayns ny h-Inshyn Goaldagh. T'ad gra dy vel y dolley shen lhiettal farrys Goaldagh, lhiettal studeyryn Goaldagh veih jannoo studeyrys ass ny çheeraghyn shoh, lhiettal obbree Ghoaldagh veih obbraghey har mooir, lhiettal mestey sheshoil Juanyn Haink Noal, jannoo lhiettrimys er shirveishyn oikoil da Juanyn as çhengaghyn mayrey elley oc, as myr shen magh.

Er y laue elley, c'red t'ad jannoo? Wahll, t'ad giarrey rheynn çhengaghyn 'sy churriglym ashoonagh; t'ad follaghey (ny jannoo sloo jeh) nyn ablid çhengey hene, mannagh nee Ladjyn t'ayn, son ta eie quaagh ayn nagh nee red Goaldagh eh çhengaghyn elley y ve ayd; t'ad craidey mish politickeyryn elley as çhengaghyn joarree oc, myr dy nee cowrey raaue t'ayn dy vel ad cur co-chialg ennagh er bun marish çheer elley; as cha nel ad cur argid da ynsaghey çhengaghyn.

My ta çhengaghyn wheesh scanshoil as shen, c'raad ta'n argid? C'raad ta'n eeckys-listal son faillee yl-hengagh? C'raad ta'n scoillaraght dys cooney lesh obbree hene-haraghey liorish ynsaghey çhengey noa ('sy çheer dooghyssagh, jeh yoin)? C'raad ta shaleeyn dy chur obbree as studeyryn dys çheeraghyn elley son dy foyraghey ablid çhengey - ny eer skeym-coonee dauesyn ta jannoo eh er nyn son hene? C'raad ta ny coryssyn-ynsee sthie ayns colughtyn, ny traenal kied-laa, do nod obbree sharaghey ny h-aghtyn femoil shoh? Cre'n fa nagh vel scoillyn jannoo ymmyd jeh saaseyn ynsaghey thummee dys ynsaghey kemmig 'sy Rooshish? Cre'n fa nagh vel politickeyryn taishbyney yn ablid çhengey ocsyn tra t'ad loayrt rish fir-oik joarree, ny goll er turrys-ronsee - nagh lhisagh ad jannoo mooar jeh'n chaa dy chur magh feeshag voggyssagh? Cre'n fa ta eabyn dy chummal seose çhengaghyn elley ny h-Inshyn Goaldagh hene goll er flout dy mennick? Dy ghra myr shen: cre'n fa nagh vel ny cummaghtee shoh jannoo red erbee dy hickyraghey ny t'ad gra er scansh çhengaghyn joarree?

Leagh as costys ynsee

Ta feanish kionnit aym nagh vel ynsaghey çhengaghyn nastee, mannagh vel oo çheet er kynneeyn daa-hengagh as y lheid. Ta kuse dy 'leih ceau £9th+ er keim; t'ad geddyn vondeish cadjin keim, dy jarroo. Agh cur sooill lhome-ymmydoil er y chooish, she reih moal t'ayn cosoylit rish y leigh, tarmeynys, dellal, maddaght, as ymmodee keimyn elley ta bentyn dy jeeragh rish staartaghyn cadjin sleih as keim hengey yoarree oc. Ta scoill oie deyr dy liooar; ta'n skedjal as ynnyd neuchooie dy cadjin; cha nel brastyllyn mennick dy liooar dy heet my laue dy tappee; as son y chooid smoo, t'ad skellal roish er y cheim veanagh son nagh vel ynseydee dy liooar dy yannoo brastyl ard-choorse.

Ta brastyllyn preevaadjagh beggan gaueagh. She yn aght as smoo bree ynsee echey son y chooid smoo, agh ta'n leagh ard cumrail oo mannagh vel oo lane soit er ynsee. Cha nel reilley quallid erbee er ynseyderyn. She saase ard-vroo t'ayn, gyn vondeish sheshoil lane vrastyl, as myr shen cha nel eh cooie da cagh. Ta persoonid ynseydagh as ynseyder lane scanshoil, as er lhiam dy nee cooish ghoccaragh t'ayn shirrey ynseyder ynnydagh, reaghey brastyl as çheet ny whaiyl. Ta aigh vie aym, as hooar mee ynseyderyn yindyssagh, agh ta caaghyn elley ayn.

Ta reih elley ayn, as shen ny ren mish fy-yerrey: faagail yn staartey aym, as goll harrish y cheayn son studeyryn lane-emshiragh 'sy çheer dooghysagh eck, myr ynsaghey thunnee. Shoh y saase s'troshey, er lhiam, agh shimmey neuvondeish t'ayn. Ta currymyn scanshoil obbree ny persoonagh ec sleih son y chooid smoo, do nagh dod ad faagail. Ta arraghey dys çheer elley cur ram boirey ort, as ta feme er daanys, surranse foddey as schlei reaghee dy yannoo eh. Mannagh nee oo eab mooar dy vestey stiagh 'sy chultoor as y boayl, cha vow oo monney vondeish: t'eh aashagh dy liooar dy gholl lesh y stroo eddrym, as feddyn myn-chultoor eebyrtagh dy vee kionnit stiagh, meanyn ass dty heer hene, as caarjyn ass y çheer cheddin.

As ny bee ourys ort, t'eh deyr agglagh. Ta mee cummal ayns shoh rish shey meeghyn. Goaill stiagh taillaghyn-ynsee, y turrys noon as noal, as yn argid nagh vel mee cosney eh nish (as co-earrooaghey argid beaghee) ta mee ceau mysh £10,000 er yn eie shoh. Dy firrinagh, cha cosoylagh eh dy nee'm cosney £10,000 'sy traa ry-heet nagh jinnin er ny chosney gyn çheet gys yn Çhapaan. Cre mysh feddyn staartey liorish ny ta mee dy ynsaghey? Wahll, foddym feddyn staartey myr Baarleyr as beggan Shapaanish aym, agh cha dod mee cosney staartey çhyndaaee ny staartey da fer as Shapaanish echey. Cha nel mee goaill arrys edyr, agh shegin dou gra nagh vel monney niart ec yn argid-baiht shoh son feddyn staartey erbee, gyn çheet er staartey as argid mie echey. Son caa share, veagh eh orrym shirrey staartey imlee 'syn Çhapaan as ynsaghey rish blein ny ghaa elley, ny ceau ny smoo argid foast er son ny smoo studeyrys lane emshiragh.

Ta lhimmey ayn: oddin feddyn staartey fer-ynsee 'syn Çhapaan. Shen keird ghoaiagh dy liooar, agh cur geill da: cha nee ablid Shapaanish y red scanshoil t'ayn, agh ablid Baarle. Ta Shapaanish ymmydoil, gyn ourys, agh shimmey peiagh ta jannoo lheid yn obbyr gyn Shapaanish erbee, hoshiaght.

Ta'n chooid smoo jeh ny Goaldee scuirr jeh studeyrys er çhengaghyn cho leah's nagh vel eh anneydagh, as shegin dou gra dy vel y feanish maroo. S'cosoylagh nagh beagh vondeish feamagh erbee ry-gheddyn oc. Cha nel mooarane dy staartaghyn follym fieau dy surransagh derrey jig sleih as Germaanish, Mandarinish, Arabish, Choctawish, Inuktitutish, ny reih çhengey elley y laa oc. Dy jarroo, cha nel nommey caa ayn eer dy yannoo ymmyd jeu 'syn obbyr. Ga dy vel vondeishyn ry-gheddyn liorish ynsaghey çhengaghyn, she vondeishyn neuloaghtagh ny preevaadjagh t'ayn: mooadaghey yn sheiltynys ayd, toiggal meanyn ass cultooryn elley, lheie lhiettrimyssyn cultooragh ny feddyn caarjyn noa. S'doillee leagh y chur er lheid ny reddyn, as ta feme er hene-ghreesaghey dy yannoo studeyrys er nyn son. Er y laue elley, ta leagh baghtal er Teisht Maddaght: ta failleyderyn shirrey er dy cadjin, as ta feanish ayn dy vel faill meanagh smoo ocsyn as y teisht oc.

Coayl bree

Ta'n skeeal shoh jus çheet gys jerrey gyn feaysley. Er lhiam nagh vel feaysley ry-yannoo, foddee, as nagh dod shin agh loayrt er y chooish. Dy row eh ort cur faill smoo da sleih as çhengaghyn elley oc, s'cosoylagh nagh dod sleih yl-hengaghyn feddyn staartey erbee! As cha dod oo gra dy beagh shen ynrick, gyn jannoo y red cheddin son dagh ooilley ablid, my ta feme er 'sy staartey ny dyn. As ga dy vel ad loayrt, cha nee y lught-reill cur argid son ynsaghey çhengaghyn tra nagh vel feme fondagh ry-akin, dy ghra myr shen, staartaghyn hene gyn sleih dy jannoo oc, ny dellal nagh vel shin cooilleeney eh. Cha lhisagh ad noadyr. Bare lhiam lught-reill ta cur argid raad t'eh ry-laccal.

S'cosoylagh dy vel ny çheeraghyn Goaldagh coayl caaghyn kyndagh rish laccal çhengaghyn, agh er lhiam dy nee "laccal bog" t'ayn. Er lhiam dy vel yn art Economist shoh coardail rhym. Oddagh shin cur shirveish share da custymeyryn; oddagh cochianglaghyn dellal eddyr-heeragh ve ny sassey as yinnagh ad ny smoo dellal 'sy çheer ain; oddagh Goaldee arraghey har mooir ny sassey as feddyn obbyr; veagh bea ny sassey da arragheryn sthie. She arraghyssyn beggey t'ayn, as cha jinnagh ad croo staartey erbee yiarragh oo "ta feme er ablid çhengey son y staartey shoh" myechione. Gyn ourys, veagh tarmaynys share ain dy row ablid çhengaghyn ec cagh. Agh gollrish astan 'sy doarn (myr yiarragh y Bretnagh), my t'ou jannoo eab dy chur baght er mynphoyntyn, bee ad skellal royd.


I found two articles on the Guardian recently, both about job-hunting, both of which were sort of interesting and I wanted to talk about a bit.

The first is My languages guilt: am I making the most of my degree?. I don’t have a languages degree, I just learn languages a lot, so everything below is musing and observation rather than personal experience.

Six months after graduating, I found myself working as a server in the kitchen of a country hotel. I was not even allowed to take orders from customers, such was my meagre role. The only time my language skills came in useful was when the French pastry chef berated me for getting in his way.

The recently departed education secretary, Michael Gove, underlined how important languages are. He said: "There is a slam-dunk case for extending foreign language teaching to children aged five.

But as the writer points out, a majority of language graduates won’t end up working ‘in languages’, as such. They end up in law, finance, marketing, publishing or administrative jobs. The author’s key argument is not that these are unworthy jobs for a language graduate, but that it isn’t language skills that get them the jobs – general graduatehood, some transferrable skills and (often) work experience or interning does the job.

If this is the situation, then why do so many people keep banging on about the vital importance of languages to the economy, and claiming that employers are clamouring for people with language ability? Are we looking at the wrong jobs? Or perhaps, are there loads of jobs out there for polyglots who don't have a language degree?

In fact, language graduates seem to do worse (DLHE table E) at finding jobs than many other graduates, with only history, philosophy and law further behind (lawyers will generally need further training before they can work in their field, boosting the numbers still studying a mere 6 months after graduation).

I remember that when I graduated, I was faced with a blanket of nothingness; the only options in front of me were the competitive graduate schemes (most of which required that I sit some kind of maths test which I was almost guaranteed to fail), a masters (I'd had enough of studying for the time being), target-hitting sales roles (not for a person who finds it hard to say no), or teaching. None of that appealed. I felt betrayed.

I think a lot of the problem here is something I’ve complained about to people before, which is that politicians, captains of industry and other influential figures care about language skills in much the same way they care about, say, climate change. This is to say: they feel strongly enough to regularly talk about how dreadful the situation is, emphasise how important it is that other people do their bit to change the situation, and make occasional gestures to try and impress with their dedication, but it is vanishingly rare for anyone to care strongly enough to actually take any concrete steps that would improve the situation.

A lot of this is, inevitably, money.

It’s the economy, stupid

Employers, if they think about it at all, are broadly in favour of fluently multilingual staff. It would be handy! As a general employee, it enables you to deal conveniently with clients from other countries. If you work in legal stuff, you can help form solid contracts with contractors, clients or employees from other countries. If in marketing or sales, you can push products, attract students, catch the attention of public bodies needing to put projects to tender, and so on. If in customer service, you can put customers at ease or deal with problems more readily, helping to build customer loyalty. If in research or information services, a wider range of material is open to you, both for tracking down information and keeping up with the cutting edge. If you talk to the media, you can present the organisation directly, rather than tolerating what may be dubious, mistaken or skewed translation, and avoid ambiguities or infelicities. It’s also more likely that you consume media or follow developments outside the Anglosphere in your own time, which may mean you learn information or discover opportunities that benefit the company.

Most importantly, there’s no downside! Talents like, say, having amazing self-confidence may make you a great leader, a great sales agent or fantastic at brokering deals with other companies, but it could also mean you make costly mistakes. IT skills are vital, but call for regular retraining and updating. There aren’t really any disadvantages to staff being bilingual, providing only that their English is good enough to deal with their normal work.

Employers will happily take those skills. What they don’t want is to pay for it.

My take is that language skills are mostly seen as a “soft skillset”, like many other of the skills that make people good employees. Let’s take interpersonal skills as an example. Yes, a subset of interpersonal skills are used at work for setting up rapport with customers, smoothing over problems or ensnaring clients (as well as workplace politicking and manipulating), but broad interpersonal skills are what allow workplaces to run harmoniously, thus helping with staff morale, productivity, making constructive suggestions more likely, making it easier to resolve problems, reducing work-related illness, and so on and so forth. However, in most trades you can’t measure or put a value on those skills, and so they are rarely recognised, nor recruited for, nor rewarded.

Language skills are similar. It’s really nice if your staff speak 20 different languages (and have at least one in common), but unless you are specifically a business working with international clients, foreign-language material or aimed at foreign customers, then it’s just a bonus. Possibly a profitable bonus, but a bonus nonetheless. It’s sort of like your database administrator being a qualified paramedic, or the office junior having an HGV licence: a skill you might occasionally ask them to use, but will neither put on their contract, nor regularly pay them for.

Sympathy for the devil

I’m not unsympathetic to the employers here. Unless languages are genuinely vital to a job, it makes no sense to add them to a job description. If the skill isn’t on a job description, then you aren’t obliged to use it, nor will you get paid for it. It gets hazier in practice, because there may be situations arising where you do use those skills, but perhaps it’s not actually essential. In the case of languages, and some other skills (IT or art are prime examples) people will often be delighted when a chance to use them does arise, and won’t avoid them just because they aren’t specifically being paid for it.

On the other hand, it would make no sense for my employer to pay me simply for possessing language skills that they didn’t ask for and don’t particularly need, even if I end up using them sometimes. It’s only really if a job gains a significant language-related workload that things start to get awkward. In some organisations, especially private companies where pay is often flexible (and indeed, argument-based), you can make a case to management that you are using skills not outlined in your job description and should get a pay rise. In public sector organisations with rigid pay scales and job categories, or when promotions aren’t an option, this flexibility often doesn’t exist. You can end up with the ridiculous situation that your boss should actively prevent you from using certain skills, as those are linked to a higher pay scale or even a more senior kind of role.

In practice, working in a university library, I made considerable use of even my meagre language skills. There were a considerable number of readers who speak German or Chinese, and while many of the long-term students were just as happy in English, some seemed to enjoy using their native language with me where possible. Some visiting for a short time, especially visiting academics, did not necessarily have a comfortable grasp of spoken English. Either group didn’t necessarily know all the specialist vocabulary used in libraries: in these cases my languages were a real asset, because one person (me) learning the appropriate terminology once helped out a significant number of clients, and I was able to teach them the English term for future reference. They also came in handy with foreign-language books, which we had a certain number of. Was it essential to my role? Absolutely not. Did it significantly improve the service I could provide to both our clients and my colleagues? Absolutely.

But even with me working there for six years, establishing the idea that certain language skills were available in that library for visitors or to help with work on particular materials, my boss isn't going to add those skills to the person specification for my replacement. The things that are lost by not having those skills in the team are qualitative, soft things. My IT skills are significantly more likely to get a slot on the spec, because as new technical projects turned up I absorbed them as the techiest person around, and without those skills the projects can't be maintained - shutting down a project, or not getting certain data analyses, is a much more concrete loss.

There are of course other cases. I well remember (and frequently recount) the employment agency in my village having signs up advertising for a secretary fluent in both Spanish and French, as well as English: the salary offered was pretty much identical to the adjacent sign for a secretary without those skills. Although I don't exactly go looking for such jobs, and haven't been able to immediately track down solid statistics, my sense has always been that there isn't a notable increase in salary for many jobs that demand language skills. Unlike degrees or technical certification, employers often seem to assume that fluency in languages is just another attribute. I suspect this is generally truer in small-scale businesses, and multinationals may be more enlightened.

Not walking the talk

In a similar vein, politicians and employers regularly talk about the way lack of language skills is limiting the British economy, ability of British students to study overseas, ability of British workers to move overseas, integration efforts, service to immigrants of other linguistic backgrounds, and so on. However, their actions tend to include cutting the role of languages in the curriculum; playing down any linguistic ability they have themselves; using others' linguistic ability as a weapon to imply they are somehow insufficiently British; and signally failing to provide funding for languages.

If languages are so important, where is the money? Where are the recruitment premiums for staff with more than one language? Where are the bursaries to help workers reskill by studying another language, ideally in its native setting? Where are the schemes to send workers or students abroad to hone language skills, or even simply mechanisms to help them arrange it themselves? Where are the in-house training schemes or job-release arrangements that enable employees to boost these invaluable abilities? Why are schools not using full immersion techniques to teach chemistry through the medium of Russian? Why do public figures not show off their language skills in meetings with foreign officials, or vid-ops on fact-finding tours? Why are even attempts to maintain the native languages of the British Isles routinely snubbed? In short, why does nobody do anything that might support the notion that languages are important?

The cost and value of learning

I can say from experience that for most people, outside bilingual families, learning languages is not free. Some take degrees that now cost £9k+, which does bring the benefits of a degree in general, but is pragmatically a poor tradeoff for law, economics, business, mathematics, or many other degrees that tie directly to the fields where many linguists end up working. Evening classes are expensive, often highly inconvenient in timing and location, too occasional to be of great help, and often wink out at higher levels because there aren’t enough students to make the class viable.

Private lessons are a minefield: though generally the most effective option, they are pricey enough to put off all but the most determined linguist; there’s no real quality control on teachers; not every can take the pressure of one-to-one teaching; they lack the social benefits of a classroom; the personality element becomes increasingly important; and it can be quite a stressful experience trying to find a teacher locally, negotiate arrangements and meet them for the first time. I have been immensely lucky to have some excellent private teachers, but that doesn’t mean it’s always true.

The other option is to do what I’ve done: leave a job and move abroad to study a language intensively in a native-language environment. This is probably the most effective option, but it has a lot of drawbacks. Many people simply couldn’t do it because of their commitments elsewhere. It’s very disruptive and requires a lot of nerve, patience and organisation to set up. You have to fight to get yourself integrated somewhat into local habits and society, rather than drifting into a private monoglot world of imported food, media from your own country and expat society.

And of course, it is colossally expensive. My six months here is costing me somewhere in the region of £10,000 – the cost of tuition, plus loss of earnings (adjusted for living costs). Realistically, it is unlikely that I will earn an extra £10,000 as a result of this experience. Will it get me a job? It’s possible that I could find a job as an English speaker with basic Japanese as a result, though I wouldn’t qualify for translation or as a genuine Japanese-speaking contact. I’m not saying I regret doing it, but honestly the jobworthy credentials of this investment are highly dubious. I’d have to either get a low-level job in Japan and work on my language for a few more years, or invest even more in full-time study, to have a better chance.

The exception, of course, is becoming an English teacher in Japan. A perfectly reasonable career choice, but notice that the really crucial point here is not my Japanese, but my English.

Meanwhile, the vast bulk of the British population who don’t pursue languages past the compulsory stage are largely justified in doing so, because they are unlikely to benefit in any practical way. There is no ocean of unfilled jobs just waiting for citizens with German, Mandarin, Arabic, Choctaw, Inuktitut or whatever other language is deemed essential at the moment. There is very little opportunity even to use these skills in a work context. The real benefits that most people see from language studies are fluffy, personal things like expansion of worldview, consuming media from other cultures, breaking down cultural barriers and potentially making new friends. Those are hard to quantify, and require self-motivation, whereas the value of A-level Maths is both widely promoted and can be quantified in average salary terms.

Running out of steam

I’m sort of going to peter out here, because I don’t think this is really the kind of problem that can go anywhere, only get talked about. Certainly I'm not going to offer a magic solution. Somehow enforcing higher rates of pay for language skills would, in most cases, be an expense on employers that made it harder for linguists to get jobs, while there’s no reasonable way to justify it for languages but not for other skills. Governments aren’t really likely to start funding language-learning when there doesn’t actually seem to be any concrete, solid need for it in terms of specific jobs that could be filled, or specific deals that could be done. They probably shouldn't, either; I'd prefer a government to spend money where it's actually needed.

Sadly, I’m pretty sure there are lots of missed economic opportunities because of language shortages, but I think they’re soft shortages. This Economist article seems to broadly agree. Customer experiences that could be a little better. Relationships with overseas firms that might be a little smoother, and lead to small changes in where they choose to make deals or investments. Obstructed flow of workers around the world. Lack of integration. Lots of little things that wouldn’t ever add up to any specific job that could justifiably have “needs language skills” stamped on it. Would a completely multilingual workforce lead to a better economy? Almost certainly. But like an eel in the fist (as the Welsh say), I think any time you try to grasp the specifics, they’ll slip away from you.

Wednesday 6 August 2014

Y Scaa Harrish Innsmouth: Y Turrys

Jalloo ass Pixabay rere kied

As myr shen ghow mee toshiaght er turrys oardreilagh, agh lieh fud-y-cheilley, trooid cassanyn keylley dorraghey Innsmouth. Hie mee shaghey y droghad as çhyndaa cour buirroogh ny h-easyn s’inshley; hooill mee faggys da thie-sheelee Varsh, as er lhiam dy row eh quaagh nagh geayll mee feiyr keirdey jeh. Va’n thie shen ny hassoo er eaynin awiney kiontoyrtagh, faggys da droghad as cohionnal straiddey. Er lhiam dy nee yn ynnyd baljagh s’leaie v’ayn, roish my daink Kerrin y Valley noa ‘syn ynnyd oc erreish da’n Irree Magh.

Haink mee tessen y chlash reesht er droghad Main Street, as feddyn slyst treigeilys lhome hug mee er creau aght ennagh. Va mollyn tuittymagh dy vullee Ollanagh er nyannoo fannys aggagh quaagh, as dirree speek gowlagh shenn agglish nyn gooyl, as y kione giarrit jee. Va tannys ec thie ny ghaa ayns Main Street, dy baghtal, agh va’n chooid smoo jeu fo ghlass as buird. Cur shilley shaghnagh sheese fo-raaidjyn gyn pemmad, honnick mee uinniagyn dooey follym ny bwaaneyn treigit. List ymmodee jeu er uillin chryggylagh anchredjuagh, erreish da ny bunnyn oc goll fo ayns shoh ny ayns shid. Vlak ny h-uinniagyn orrym gollrish sooillyn scaanagh, as v’eh orrym goaill cree roish my dod mee çhyndaa my hiar cour yn clyst. Dy jarroo, ta scoagh thie treigit mooadaghey ‘syn aght towse-oaylleeagh, cha nel ‘syn aght earrooagh, raad ta ny thieyn co-chruinnaghey nyn gaair ‘ollym-faase lhome. Jeeaghyn er astyllyn marroo-hooillagh gyn jerrey; smooinaghtyn er shamyryn ass towse co-chianglt myr anvaaraght ghorraghey ghroamey, lane sneeuaneyn as cooinaghtyn as y veishteig varriaghtagh — t’eh dooshtey aggleyn as feohyn lorgagh nagh dod y fallsoonys s’fondagh ad y vooghey. Va Fish Street wheesh treigit as Main, agh va ymmodee thieyn stoyrey breekey as cloaie aynjee v’ayns stayd braew foast. Va Water Street ny mac-straid eck, bunnys, agh dy row doarlishyn mooarey aynjee rish y cheayn raad va ny keiyghyn traa dy row. Cha vaik mee nhee bio erbee, agh ny h-eeasteyryn skeaylt er y voalley marroo foddey jeem, chamoo geayll mee sheean erbee agh freayney ny tidey phuirt, as buirroogh easyn ny Manuxet. Va’n balley boirey orrym ny s’trimmey as ny s’trimmey foast, as yeeagh mee my yei dy sleetçhagh rish teiy my raad erash harrish droghad corragh Water Street. Rere y jalloo, va droghad Fish Street lane vrisht.

Saturday 2 August 2014

Y Dhiane as yn Ainle

Rish snaue magh ass oaieghyn ny merriu, haink dhiane quaiyl ainle. As yeeagh y jees ry-cheilley er reeghyn as reeriaghtyn, as aeganyn as caillinyn as caayryn deiney. Honnick ad shenn deiney trome ayns ny caairyn oc, as clashtyn paitçhyn goaill arrane 'sy vagher. Honnick ad caggaghyn foddey as fir chaggee as baljyn boallit, creenaght as olkys, as moyrn reeghyn, as deiney dagh ooilley çheer by enney ec soilshey ny greiney orroo.

As loayr y dhiane rish yn ainle: "Cur my ner y bee aym."

"Be dakeon para Thina poluphloisboio Thalassaes," as yn ainle dy injil, son hooill ad rish y cheayn, "as nod oo shen y chur fo haart myrgeddin?"

As fo jiarg-chorree haink glassaght atçhimagh er y dhiane, son rish tree thousane bleeaney v'eh er nyannoo eab y linney shen y scryssey as va'n carr foast gaaheeaney ayns e chione.


Shoh heese y teks Greagish bunneydagh, ass yn Iliad 1:34

ὣς ἔφατ᾽, ἔδεισεν δ᾽ ὃ γέρων καὶ ἐπείθετο μύθῳ:
βῆ δ᾽ ἀκέων παρὰ θῖνα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης:

hṑs éphat᾽, édeisen d᾽hò gérōn kaì epeítheto mýthōi:
bē̂ d᾽akéōn parà thîna polyphloísboio thalássēs:

Loayr eh, as haink aggle er y shenn dooinney as ghow eh rish e ghoo:
Hooill eshyn ny host rish buirrooghey ny marrey:


Ta'n skeealeen shoh çhyndaait ass The Worm and the Angel liorish yn Çhiarn Dunsany. Ta'n lioar vunneydagh ry-lhaih er Project Gutenberg.

Sunday 15 June 2014

Yn elefant, ny doail as ny caghlaaghyn Uss

Blind monks examining an elephant

Dooyrt carrey aym red ennagh er y gherrid. Ta ayrnyn jeu ny s'feerey tra t'ad marish nyn ayr as moir, ny marish y çheshey, ny marish caarjyn er lheh.

Some parts of me are more real when I'm with my parents, or with my partner, or certain friends. I have seen this in my parents, too. It's never occurred to me to behave otherwise.

S'ainjyssagh dou yn ennaghtyn shen. Hoig mee foddey erash dy nee mish elley t'ayn ny keayrtyn; ny ny share, dy vel caghlaaghyn mish ayn as ta'n fer smoo baghtal jeu croghey er quoi t'ayn. Tra ta mee loayrt rish moir my ayrey, she mish mwannalagh agh kiart t'ayn; shimmey spotçh graihagh ta mee jannoo, as blass paitçhagh er, agh ta mee erreeishagh chammah, son ta mee cloie paart oe daaney ayns lught-thie cooyrtoil dy liooar. Tra ta mee loayrt rish moir my vayrey, she mish pragmatagh, granganagh, breeoil as kione-daaney t'ayn, as blass Lancashire er y Vaarle aym; ta mee cloie paart fer aasit ayns lught-thie ta cur towse dty hengey dauesyn ta graih ayd orroo, as geddyn y red cheddin erash.

'Syn obbyr, ta mee my Scouser gennal cour ny studeyryn goan ass y heear-hwoaie, as my 'er keirdey cooyrtoil cour ny shenn ollooyn. She mish jeeragh t'ayn mastey kuse dy chaarjyn, as s'oayllagh dou stiurey ny ta shin jannoo; mastey caarjyn elley, ta mee my host dy mennick as share lhiam geiyrt orroo na stiurey. Ta mee çhebbal geaylin da shiartanse dy 'leih croghey urree, as ta mish croghey er geayltyn elley tra fa feme aym.

Agh cha nee breag t'ayn, ny red ennagh myr shen. Vel enney ayd er skeeal yn elefant as ny doail? Er lhiam dy nee cosoylaghey mie t'ayn. She elefant Uss, as gollrish beinn rioee...

S'baghtal dou dy vel y macsoyley shoh çheet dy ve lane chramp, agh lhiggey dou rish tammylt.

She elefant-beinn-rioee Uss. Ta'n chooid smoo jeed ass shilley, as cha nel co-heks ennagh soilshaghey magh agh un eddin jeed.

Augh.

She elefant-beinn-rioee-gruaieagh Uss. Gollrish y fer shoh, agh ass rio. Ta'n chooid smoo jeed ass shilley, as cha nel co-heks ennagh soilshaghey magh agh un eddin jeed. T'ou feddyn magh towl cooie dhyt 'sy cho-heks, gollrish y ghoog shoh.

...

Eaisht. T'ou Uss gollrish elefant-beinn-rioee gruaieagh, as ta possan sheshoil gollrish boayrd fuyghee as tuill aynsyn oddagh oo soie ayndauesyn, agh myr hee oo, ta ny tuill ry-gheddyn foast croghey er cre ny cummaghyn ta soie 'sy voayrd hannah. As foddee nagh vel towl cooie erbee dtys ayns boayrd er lheh. Agh cha nel uss dty chummey neuchramp; ta caghlaaghyn gruaie ayd, as rish çhyndaa mygeayrt s'cosoylagh dy fow uss gruaie ta kiangley dy mie. Ny keayrtyn, she cummey beg t'ayn as dobbyr da gyn bentyn rish ny cummaghyn mygeayrt echey; ny keayrtyn elley t'ou soie ayns mean y voayrd as ta cagh bentyn roo dy fondagh.

As gollrish ny doail, ta ny caarjyn ayd fakin y ghruaie shen son y chooid smoo, as cha nel enney baghtal oc er ny h-Ussyn elley t'ayn, as cha nel ad cliaghtit roo. Agh cha nel eh jannoo y famman ayd eer beggan ny sloo "Uss" jus son y fa dy vel enney ec y fer shoh er dty chleaysh, as y fer elley er dty chass, as ta'n famman ass shilley cagh son y chooid smoo.

S'treisht lhiam dy vel shen baghtal nish.


The elephant, the blind men and the many Yous

Blind monks examining an elephant

A friend of mine said something recently, which I'd like to quote:

Some parts of me are more real when I'm with my parents, or with my partner, or certain friends. I have seen this in my parents, too. It's never occurred to me to behave otherwise.

It's a familiar thought to me (not wishing to sound smug, I was aiming for "thinking with one accord"). I've noticed it repeatedly over the years, that I'm different from occasion to occasion; or better, that there are various mes and the most salient one depends on my company. When I talk to my paternal grandmother, I'm irreverent but considerate, full of affectionate ribbing in a slightly childish vein, but still sympathetic and courteous, for here I play the part of a cheeky grandson in a pretty respectable family. When I talk to my maternal grandmother, I'm pragmatic, cynical, lively and opinionated, with a more Northerly accent; my role here is a grown lad in a family where affection means giving as good as you get, exchanging terrible puns and twinkling eyes, and being bluff and down-to-earth.

At work, I'm a cheery Scouser with the rare students from the north-west, and a polite professional with elderly academics. I'm forthright and take the lead amongst certain friends; in other circles I'm quieter and prefer to let others decide. I offer a shoulder for some folks to lean on, and do my own leaning on other shoulders.

But this sort of thing isn't a deception or anything. Do you know the story of the blind men and the elephant? I think it's a decent comparison here. You're basically the elephant, and like an iceberg...

Okay, this metaphor is getting a bit complicated, but stay with me here.

You're an elephant-iceberg. The best part of you is hidden, and only one facet is usually visible in any particular context.

Pants.

So you're a multifacted elephant-iceberg. A bit like this, except icier. The best part of you is hidden, and only one facet is usually visible in any particular context. When a context arises (like a group of friends) you seek out a suitable gap for yourself, like this.

...

Right, listen. You're a multifacted elephant-iceberg, and social contexts are like a wooden board with holes of varying shapes in them that you can slot into; but as you can see from the link, the holes that exist depend on what shapes are already sitting on the board. Maybe there isn't a suitable hole for you at all in some contexts. But you aren't a simple flat shape; you have many facets, and by turning a little you can typically find one to fit the context, even if it's a small one that barely touches the shapes around it. Other times, you're sat right in the centre with everyone else firmly ensconced around you.

And like the blind men, friends and family will see the facet that's presented to them, and have no clear idea of the other Yous that exist, and aren't familiar with them. But it doesn't make your tail any less "You" that this person here knows your ear, that person knows your foot, and really nobody else ever gets a glimpse of your tail.

I hope that's all clear then.

Friday 13 June 2014

Coontey Randolph Carter

Coontey Randolph Carter

Ta mee ginsh diu reesht, gheiney ooasle; cha neeu erbee eh mish y cheishtey. Pryssoonee mee ayns shoh er son dy bragh my sailliu; jean my ghooney stiagh ny my chur gys baase my ta feme oc er surransagh dys cummal seose y chonrieught ta shiu genmys cairys; cha noddym gra ny smoo ny ny ta grait aym hannah. Dagh ooilley red s'cooin lhiam eh, ta mee er ny ghra dy jeeragh. Cha nel red erbee jeh cassit ny follit aym, as my ta'n chooish neuchruinn foast, shen er coontey ynrican y vodjal dorraghey t'er jeet harrish my aigney - y bodjal shen as dooghys kayeeagh ny scoaghyn hug eh orrym.

Jirrym reesht, cha s'aym cre'n erree haink er Harley Warren, agh er lhiam - s'treisht lhiam, faggys - dy vel eh ec fea er neunhee nish, my ta lheid y stayd sheeant ayn raad erbee. S'feer eh dy vel mee e charrey s'ainjyssee rish queig bleeantyn, as lieh-ayrniagh 'syn aahirrey agglagh jeant echey er cooishyn gyn enney. Cha nee'm jiooldey, ga dy vel my chooinaghtyn neuhickyr as neuchronnal, dy vaik feanishagh ennagh eu y jees ain ec lieh-oor lurg nane-jeig yn oie agglagh shen, as shinyn shooyll ry-cheilley er raad keesh Ghainsville rish Curragh Chuphar Vooar. Shickyreeym dy arryltagh dy dymmyrk shin londeyryn lectragh, kiebbyn, as streng chaslit whaagh as jeshaghtyn kianglt ree; va laue ocsyn ooilley 'sy çhilley owanagh ynrican t'er ny 'owanaghey er my chooinaghtyn jeeillit. Agh er ny haghyr ny yei, as er y fa hooar ad mish my lomarcan as thollaneagh ec oirr ny curree y nah voghrey, shegin dou gra nagh cooin lhiam red erbee agh ny ta mee er n'insh diu reesht as reeshtagh. Dinsh shiu dou nagh vel boayl erbee 'sy churragh ny'n ard oddagh ve ynnyd ny taghyrtyn atçhimagh shen. Ta mee freggyrt nagh vel fys aym agh er ny honnick mee. Foddee dy nee ashlish ny tromlhie v'ayn - s'mian jeean lhiam dy nee ashlish ny tromlhie v'ayn - agh shen ooilley s'cooin lhiam eh jeh taghyrtyn atçhimagh ny h-ooryn erreish dooin faagail tastey deiney. As er y fa nagh daink Harley Warren erash, eshyn ny'n scaa echey - ny nhee ennagh gyn enney nagh noddym soilshaghey magh - cha hoilshee agh y traa shen.

Myr dooyrt mee, va mee ainjyssagh rish studeyrys quaagh Harley Warren, as ghow mee ayrn ayn ny keayrtyn. Mastey'n çhaglym ass towse echey dy lioaryn joarree goaney er cooishyn neulhiggit, ta mee er lhiah dagh fer ta screeut ayns çhengey t'aym; agh t'adsyn beg cosoylit roosyn t'ayns çhengaghyn nagh noddym toiggal. Ta'n chooid smoo jeu ayns Arabish, ta mee credjal; as y lioar jouyll-screeut hayrn y jerrey orrin - lioar hug lesh eh 'sy phoagey echey magh ass y teihll - v'eshyn screeut ayns lettyryn nagh vaik mee rieau y lheid oc. Cha row Warren arryltagh rieau dy insh dou ny v'aynsyn, dy jeeragh. As bentyn rish y studeyrys jeant ain - nhegin dou gra reesht nagh gooin lhiam y clane foast? Er lhiam dy nee myghin t'ayn; she studeyrys agglagh v'ayn, as lhian mee roo kyndagh rish cleaynaghey neuarryltagh, cha nel rish mian hene. Va kioneys ec Warren orrym rieau, as va aggle orrym roish ny keayrtyn. S'cooin lhiam yn aght va mee er craa yn oie roish ny taghyrtyn agglagh, as eshyn loayrt gyn scuirr erbee er y çheiltynys echey, er y fa nagh vel merriu ennagh loauaghey arragh, agh marraghtyn dy fondagh as roayr ayns ny tommanyn oc rish milley bleeaney. Agh cha nel aggle aym roish nish; er lhiam dy vel enney echey nish er scoaghaghyn ass my oayllys. Nish ta aggle aym er-e-hon.

Ta mee ginsh diu reesht nagh vel fys baghtal aym er y dean v'ain yn oie shen. Son shickyrys, v'eh bentyn rish red ennagh 'sy lioar hrog Warren eh - y shenn lioar ayns lettyryn do-lhiah v'er ny roshtyn ass yn Injey mee er dy henney - agh breearreeym nagh row fys aym er ny v'eh jerkal feddyn eh. Ta'n feanishagh eu gra dy vaik eh shin mysh lieh-oor lurg nane-jeig er raad keesh Ghainsville, shooyll cour Curragh Chuphar Vooar. S'feer eh, s'cosoylagh, agh cha gooin lhiam eh dy baghtal. Cha nel agh un çhilley grainnit er my annym, as shegin dasyn ve foddey lurg mean oie; va eayst eairkagh vaarnee ny soie ard ayns ny niaughyn gaalagh.

She shenn ruillick v'ayn; ruillick cho shenn va mee er craa lesh ymmodee cowraghyn bleeantyn ass towse. V'ee ny soie ayns laggan dowin tash, fo lane-choodagh faiyr rank, keynnagh, as sarkil snauee whaagh, as er ny feie haink soar neuchronnal dou chianglee my aigney meecheayllagh rish claghyn molkagh. Er gagh çheu va cowraghyn neuyeadid as drogh-oardrailys ry-akin, as haink eie lhiantynagh orrym dy nee Warren as mish ny kied chretooryn vioey haink stiagh er tostid marrooagh ny h-eashyn. Vlak eayst eairkagh vaarnee hreih harrish oirr y ghlion trooid gaal nieunagh dirree ass oaighyn gyn enney, er lhiam. Fo skaggyn moaley kirkinagh e soilshey dod mee cronnaghey straih graynoil dy leacyn oaie, crockyn, lhiaghtyn cooinaght as eddinyn toman mooar; v'ad ooilley boghlanagh, coodit lesh keynnagh, daahit liorish tashtid, as lieh-'ollit liorish rankid arraghtagh ny glasseraght neufollan.

Y chied chooinaght vaghtal aym jinyn 'sy ruillick agglagh shen, shen Warren as mish scuirr roish lhiaght lieh-naardit er lheh, as lhiggey da laad ennagh va shin er n'ymmyrkey tuittym sheese. Hug mee my ner nish dy row londeyr lectragh as daa chiebbey ayms, choud's va londeyr cosoylagh rish ec my charrey, as farrys çhellvane ymmyrkagh. Cha loayr shin fockle erbee; v'eh jeeaghyn dy row ynnyd as obbyr mie er fys ain daa, as gyn feiyal ghow shin kiebbey y pheesh as goaill toshiaght scughey faiyr, sarkil as thalloo chailjey jeh thie rea shenn-emshiragh ny merriu. Erreish dooin seyrey y lane eaghtyr, as eshyn jeant jeh tree claghyn tryal fouwragh, hayrn shin erash dys goaill towshan jeh'n reayrtys baaish. Er lhiam dy ren Warren co-earroo inçhynagh ennagh. Eisht hooill eh erash da'n oaie, as jannoo eab dy phrisal seose y leac va s'faggys da tholtanagh cloaie va ny lhiaght cooinaghtyn 'sy laa, foddee. Cha daink eh lesh, as chowree eh er son cooney. Fy yerrey, ren y lane niart ain feaysley y leac, as hrog shin eh as seiy eh ass y raad.

Ren arraghey y leac taishbyney barney doo, as gheayrt magh smoghan dy ghas miasmagh cho feodagh lheim shin erash fo grayn. Agh rish tammylt, hayrn shin faggys da'n slogh reesht, as dennee shin dy row y soar ny sloo do-hurranse. Hoilshee ny londeyryn kione roie greeishyn, as ingyr dwoaieagh ennagh y thalloo sthie sheeley harroo, as boallaghyn tash fo scroig neetar ny çhemmalyn oc. As nish son y chied cheayrt ta taggloo beill cooinit aym; Warren loayr rhym er liurid 'sy choraa tennoragh menoyragh echey, as eshyn neuvoirit dy quaagh liorish y çhymbyllaght agglagh mygeayrt-y-mooin.

"S'treih lhiam shassoo ort fuirraghtyn er y thalloo," as eh, "agh by pheccah eh lhiggey da fer cho lhaggey e nearagyn goll sheese ayns shen. Cha nod oo sheiltyn, gyn scansh da ny t'ou er lhiah as ny ta mee er ninsh dhyt, ny vees orrym fakin as jannoo eh. She obbyr jouyllagh t'ayn, Charter, as ta ourys aym dy noddagh fer erbee gyn daanys yiarn ny hurranse as tannaghtyn bio as er e cheayll. Cha mian lhiam frioggan ort, as ta fys ec Jee by voggey dou dty heshaght; agh ta currym orrym, aght ennagh, as cha noddym tayrn lheid y fer nearagagh sheese marym dys baase ny baanrys cosoylagh. Ta mee ginsh dhyt, cha nod oo sheiltyn rieughid y nhee! Agh ta mee gialdyn dy hoilshaghey dagh kesmad y turrys dhyt er y çhellvane - jeeagh, ta streng dy liooar aym dys roshtyn cree ny cruinney as erash!"

Ta ny focklyn shen as e choraa chiune ry-chlashtyn aym foast, as s'cooin lhiam ny çhionnraaghyn hug mee er. By vian jeean dou goll marish my charrey stiagh 'sy çharvaal ghrouw, er lhiam, agh v'eh kione-lajeragh as creoi. Keayrt ennagh vaggyr eh dy 'aagail y jurnaa dy danneein shassooagh; haink y baggyrt shen lesh, er y fa nagh row feaysley y chooish agh echeysyn. S'cooin lhiam ooilley shen, ga nagh gooin lhiam nish cre'n nhee hirr shin. Erreish da cur orrym lhie roish y chiarail echey, hrog Warren y rollian streng as cochiartaghey ny jeshaghtyn. As eshyn snoggal, ghow mee fer jeu as soie sheese er shenn leac oaie daahit ec ny h-eashyn, faggys da'n doarlish noa-feddynit. Eisht chrie ad my laue, as cur y rollian streng er e gheaylin, as skellal stiagh 'sy thie craueyn do-insh.

Rish tammylt, dreill mee shilley er soilshey y losteyr, as va moostrey streng ry-chlashtyn tra hug eh eh sheese ny yei; agh dy gerrid, herree y soilshey dy doaltattym, myr dy row eh er gassey corneil ennagh 'sy roie greeishyn cloaie, as lheie magh y sheean myrgeddin. Va mee my lomarcan, agh er my chiangley da'n diunid gyn enney ec snaieyn obbeeys jeen lhie geayney fo skaggyn moaley ny h-eayst eairkagh vaarnee.

Ayns tostid fadaneagh ard-valley lheeah as treigit ny merriu, ren my inçhyn gientyn scaanyn as conrieughtyn scoaghagh ass towse; as er lhiam dy daink persoonid graney er ny çhiambleyn as leacyn arraghtagh - far-enney ennagh. Va scaanyn gyn cummey lhie cooyl chlea ayns cuilleigyn s'dorree y lhaggan sarkyllagh, er lhiam, as gimman myr cosheeaght drogh-chliaghtagh vollaghtagh shaghey beill ny tommanyn molmagh 'sy lhargagh; scaanyn nagh dod ve ceaut ec yn eayst eairkagh vlakee, treih.

Cheau mee shillaghyn kinjagh er my ooreyder lesh soilshey y losteyr lectragh, as eaishtagh rish y ghlackeyder çhellvane as imnea jeean orrym; agh rish kerroo oor as ny smoo, cha geayll mee veg. Eisht haink criggaraght beg ass y jeshaght, as deam mee sheese da my charrey lesh coraa toghtit. Ga dy row mee twoaieagh, cha row mee aarloo da ny focklyn cheayll mee girree neese magh ass yn ooig neuheiltagh, as y blass orroo scoaghit as er creau erskyn focklyn erbee cheayll mee rieau jeh Harley Warren. Eshyn v'er my 'aagail cho kiune tammylt beg er-dy-henney, v'eh gyllagh neese ayns sannish craagh ny smoo drogh-vonneydagh na screeagh er ard.

"Yee! Dy vaikagh oo ny ta mee fakin!"

Cha dod mee freggyrt. Gyn choraa, cha dod mee agh fuirraghtyn. Loayr y coraa toghtit reesht:

"Charter, t'eh agglagh - eajee - neuchredjallagh!"

Y cheayrt shoh cha huitt my choraa, as gheayrt mee thooilley feyshtyn greesit stiagh 'sy ghlackeyder. As aggle ass towse orrym, dooyrt mee gyn scuirr, "Warren, c'red t'eh? C'red t'eh?"

Haink coraa my charrey reesht, peeaghaneagh lesh aggle, as blass drogh-hreihys er nish.

"Cha noddym ginsh dhyt, Charter! T'eh ass smooinaght dy bollagh - cha lhoys dou gra - cha nod fer erbee tannaghtyn bio as fys echey er - Yee ooilley-niartal! Cha heill mee rieau y lheid!"

Tostid reesht, er lhimmey jeh'n stroo meeresoonagh dy 'eyshtyn gheayrt mee magh er creau. Eisht coraa Warren as ardjey ard-yindys keoie er:

"Charter! Son graih Yee, cur y leac erash as magh ass shoh my foddee uss! Tappee! - Faag y clane as immee çheumooie - shen y caa ynrican dhyt! Jean ny dooyrt mee, as ny shirr baght er orrym!

Cheayll mee, agh cha dod mee agh aaloayrt ny feyshtyn dy baanrit. Va tommanyn as dorraghys as scaanyn mygeayrt aym; as foym va cryggyl erskyn creeagh sheiltynys deiney. Agh va my charrey ayns gaue ny strimmey na mish, as trooid yn aggle va corree ennagh orrym dy chred eh dy noddin treigeil eh rish lheid y tuittymys. Tooilley criggaraght, as farkaght, as eisht yllagh treih ass Warren.

"Fow royd! Son graih Yee, cur y leac erash as trog er, Charter!"

B'vaghtal eh dy row my chumraag lhottit, as ren blass ennagh 'sy raa guilleydagh feaysley my ablid greimmit. Ren as dyllee mee kiarail, "Warren, gow cree! Ta mee çheet sheese!" Agh rish y çhebbal chaghlaa blass my choloayrtagh da yllagh lane veehreishteil:

"Ny jig! Cha nel oo toiggal! T'eh ro-anmagh - as s'lhiams y varranys. Cur y leac erash as roie - cha nel freggyrt erbee ayds ny ec peiagh erbee nish!"

Chaghlaa y coraa reesht, as haink blass kiune er nish, myr surranse gyn doghys. Agh va çhennid imnea er foast er my hon.

"Tappee - roish my vel eh ro-anmagh!"

Ren mee eab gyn cur geill da; dys brishey trooid y neuheiltys voogh mee, as cooilleeiney my vreearrey dy ratçh dy chooney eh. Agh hooar y nah hannish mish foast neughleashagh ayns driaghtyn jiarg-scoagh.

"Charter - jean siyr! Cha nel ymmyd erbee - shegin dhyt goll - ny share un na daa - y leac-"

Scuirr, ny smoo criggaraght, as coraa faase Warren:

"Faggys jeant nish - ny jean eh ny s'creoi - coodee ny greeishyn mollaghtagh as roie er son dty vea - t'ou uss coayl traa - bannaght lhiat, Charter - cha vaikym uss reesht."

As myr shen vooadee sannish Warren dys yllagh; yllagh dirree dy moal dys screeagh lughtit lesh lane ghrayn ny h-eashyn:

"Mollaght er ny nheeghyn iurinagh - çhionnalyn jeu - Graih Yee! Trog er! Trog er! TROG ER!"

As ny yei shen, tostid. Cha s'aym cre wooad dy h-eashyn gyn jerrey hannee mee my hoie as mish thollaneagh; sansheraght, mungley, gyllaghey, screeaghey stiagh 'sy çhellvane. Reesht as reeshtagh car ny h-eashyn shen hanshee mee, as vungil, as dyllee, as deam, "Warren! Warren! Loayr rhym - vel oo ayns shen?"

As eisht haink orrym yn ard-scoagh - y red do-chredjal, do-smooinaghtagh; do-insh, faggys. Ta mee er ngra dy jagh eashyn shaghey erreish da Warren screeaghey magh y raaue meehreishteilagh s'jerree, as nagh vrish agh my focklyn hene y tostid atçhimagh nish. Agh lurg tammylt cheayll mee criggaraght reesht 'sy ghlackeyder, as heeyn mee my chleayshyn da. Dyllee mee sheese reesht, "Warren, vel oo ayns shen?" as myr freggyrt cheayll mee ny t'er cheau y dolley shoh er my inçhyn. Cha nee'm eab, my gheiney seyrey, soilshey y cheau er y chooish - y coraa shen - as cha noddym cur coontey myn jeh noadyr; ren ny kied 'ocklyn raipey ersooyl my enney as faagail folmid cooinaghtyn derrey ghooisht mee 'sy thie lheihys. Lhisin gra dy row eh trome; mooghit; gleiynagh; feayr; neuheihllt; neughooinoil; neuchorpoil? C'red noddym gra? By jerrey my chooinaghtyn eh, as she jerrey my skeeal t'ayn. Cheayll mee eh, as coayl enney - cheayll mee eh as mish lhejit my hoie 'sy ruillick gyn enney 'sy laggan, mastey claghyn as tommanyn boghlanagh, as glasseraght rank, as gaal miasmagh - cheayll mee eh brooightey neese ass brein s'diuney ny h-oiae 'oshlit imshee shen tra ghaunse scaadooghyn merriu-eeagh gyn cummey fo eayst vollaghtagh vaarnee.

As shoh ny dooyrt eh:

"VOLVANE, TA WARREN MARROO!"


The Statement of Randolph Carter

I repeat to you, gentlemen, that your inquisition is fruitless. Detain me here forever if you will; confine or execute me if you must have a victim to propitiate the illusion you call justice; but I can say no more than I have said already. Everything that I can remember, I have told with perfect candour. Nothing has been distorted or concealed, and if anything remains vague, it is only because of the dark cloud which has come over my mind—that cloud and the nebulous nature of the horrors which brought it upon me.

Again I say, I do not know what has become of Harley Warren; though I think—almost hope—that he is in peaceful oblivion, if there be anywhere so blessed a thing. It is true that I have for five years been his closest friend, and a partial sharer of his terrible researches into the unknown. I will not deny, though my memory is uncertain and indistinct, that this witness of yours may have seen us together as he says, on the Gainesville pike, walking toward Big Cypress Swamp, at half past eleven on that awful night. That we bore electric lanterns, spades, and a curious coil of wire with attached instruments, I will even affirm; for these things all played a part in the single hideous scene which remains burned into my shaken recollection. But of what followed, and of the reason I was found alone and dazed on the edge of the swamp next morning, I must insist that I know nothing save what I have told you over and over again. You say to me that there is nothing in the swamp or near it which could form the setting of that frightful episode. I reply that I know nothing beyond what I saw. Vision or nightmare it may have been—vision or nightmare I fervently hope it was—yet it is all that my mind retains of what took place in those shocking hours after we left the sight of men. And why Harley Warren did not return, he or his shade—or some nameless thing I cannot describe—alone can tell.

As I have said before, the weird studies of Harley Warren were well known to me, and to some extent shared by me. Of his vast collection of strange, rare books on forbidden subjects I have read all that are written in the languages of which I am master; but these are few as compared with those in languages I cannot understand. Most, I believe, are in Arabic; and the fiend-inspired book which brought on the end—the book which he carried in his pocket out of the world—was written in characters whose like I never saw elsewhere. Warren would never tell me just what was in that book. As to the nature of our studies—must I say again that I no longer retain full comprehension? It seems to me rather merciful that I do not, for they were terrible studies, which I pursued more through reluctant fascination than through actual inclination. Warren always dominated me, and sometimes I feared him. I remember how I shuddered at his facial expression on the night before the awful happening, when he talked so incessantly of his theory, why certain corpses never decay, but rest firm and fat in their tombs for a thousand years. But I do not fear him now, for I suspect that he has known horrors beyond my ken. Now I fear for him.

Once more I say that I have no clear idea of our object on that night. Certainly, it had much to do with something in the book which Warren carried with him—that ancient book in undecipherable characters which had come to him from India a month before—but I swear I do not know what it was that we expected to find. Your witness says he saw us at half past eleven on the Gainesville pike, headed for Big Cypress Swamp. This is probably true, but I have no distinct memory of it. The picture seared into my soul is of one scene only, and the hour must have been long after midnight; for a waning crescent moon was high in the vaporous heavens.

The place was an ancient cemetery; so ancient that I trembled at the manifold signs of immemorial years. It was in a deep, damp hollow, overgrown with rank grass, moss, and curious creeping weeds, and filled with a vague stench which my idle fancy associated absurdly with rotting stone. On every hand were the signs of neglect and decrepitude, and I seemed haunted by the notion that Warren and I were the first living creatures to invade a lethal silence of centuries. Over the valley's rim a wan, waning crescent moon peered through the noisome vapours that seemed to emanate from unheard-of catacombs, and by its feeble, wavering beams I could distinguish a repellent array of antique slabs, urns, cenotaphs, and mausolean facades; all crumbling, moss-grown, and moisture-stained, and partly concealed by the gross luxuriance of the unhealthy vegetation. My first vivid impression of my own presence in this terrible necropolis concerns the act of pausing with Warren before a certain half-obliterated sepulchre, and of throwing down some burdens which we seemed to have been carrying. I now observed that I had with me an electric lantern and two spades, whilst my companion was supplied with a similar lantern and a portable telephone outfit. No word was uttered, for the spot and the task seemed known to us; and without delay we seized our spades and commenced to clear away the grass, weeds, and drifted earth from the flat, archaic mortuary. After uncovering the entire surface, which consisted of three immense granite slabs, we stepped back some distance to survey the charnel scene; and Warren appeared to make some mental calculations. Then he returned to the sepulchre, and using his spade as a lever, sought to pry up the slab lying nearest to a stony ruin which may have been a monument in its day. He did not succeed, and motioned to me to come to his assistance. Finally our combined strength loosened the stone, which we raised and tipped to one side.

The removal of the slab revealed a black aperture, from which rushed an effluence of miasmal gases so nauseous that we started back in horror. After an interval, however, we approached the pit again, and found the exhalations less unbearable. Our lanterns disclosed the top of a flight of stone steps, dripping with some detestable ichor of the inner earth, and bordered by moist walls encrusted with nitre. And now for the first time my memory records verbal discourse, Warren addressing me at length in his mellow tenor voice; a voice singularly unperturbed by our awesome surroundings.

"I'm sorry to have to ask you to stay on the surface," he said, "but it would be a crime to let anyone with your frail nerves go down there. You can't imagine, even from what you have read and from what I've told you, the things I shall have to see and do. It's fiendish work, Carter, and I doubt if any man without ironclad sensibilities could ever see it through and come up alive and sane. I don't wish to offend you, and heaven knows I'd be glad enough to have you with me; but the responsibility is in a certain sense mine, and I couldn't drag a bundle of nerves like you down to probable death or madness. I tell you, you can't imagine what the thing is really like! But I promise to keep you informed over the telephone of every move—you see I've enough wire here to reach to the centre of the earth and back!"

I can still hear, in memory, those coolly spoken words; and I can still remember my remonstrances. I seemed desperately anxious to accompany my friend into those sepulchral depths, yet he proved inflexibly obdurate. At one time he threatened to abandon the expedition if I remained insistent; a threat which proved effective, since he alone held the key to the thing. All this I can still remember, though I no longer know what manner of thing we sought. After he had secured my reluctant acquiescence in his design, Warren picked up the reel of wire and adjusted the instruments. At his nod I took one of the latter and seated myself upon an aged, discoloured gravestone close by the newly uncovered aperture. Then he shook my hand, shouldered the coil of wire, and disappeared within that indescribable ossuary. For a moment I kept sight of the glow of his lantern, and heard the rustle of the wire as he laid it down after him; but the glow soon disappeared abruptly, as if a turn in the stone staircase had been encountered, and the sound died away almost as quickly. I was alone, yet bound to the unknown depths by those magic strands whose insulated surface lay green beneath the struggling beams of that waning crescent moon.

In the lone silence of that hoary and deserted city of the dead, my mind conceived the most ghastly phantasies and illusions; and the grotesque shrines and monoliths seemed to assume a hideous personality—a half-sentience. Amorphous shadows seemed to lurk in the darker recesses of the weed-choked hollow and to flit as in some blasphemous ceremonial procession past the portals of the mouldering tombs in the hillside; shadows which could not have been cast by that pallid, peering crescent moon. I constantly consulted my watch by the light of my electric lantern, and listened with feverish anxiety at the receiver of the telephone; but for more than a quarter of an hour heard nothing. Then a faint clicking came from the instrument, and I called down to my friend in a tense voice. Apprehensive as I was, I was nevertheless unprepared for the words which came up from that uncanny vault in accents more alarmed and quivering than any I had heard before from Harley Warren. He who had so calmly left me a little while previously, now called from below in a shaky whisper more portentous than the loudest shriek:

"God! If you could see what I am seeing!"

I could not answer. Speechless, I could only wait. Then came the frenzied tones again:

"Carter, it's terrible—monstrous—unbelievable!"

This time my voice did not fail me, and I poured into the transmitter a flood of excited questions. Terrified, I continued to repeat, "Warren, what is it? What is it?"

Once more came the voice of my friend, still hoarse with fear, and now apparently tinged with despair:

"I can't tell you, Carter! It's too utterly beyond thought—I dare not tell you—no man could know it and live—Great God! I never dreamed of THIS!" Stillness again, save for my now incoherent torrent of shuddering inquiry. Then the voice of Warren in a pitch of wilder consternation:

"Carter! for the love of God, put back the slab and get out of this if you can! Quick!—leave everything else and make for the outside—it's your only chance! Do as I say, and don't ask me to explain!"

I heard, yet was able only to repeat my frantic questions. Around me were the tombs and the darkness and the shadows; below me, some peril beyond the radius of the human imagination. But my friend was in greater danger than I, and through my fear I felt a vague resentment that he should deem me capable of deserting him under such circumstances. More clicking, and after a pause a piteous cry from Warren:

"Beat it! For God's sake, put back the slab and beat it, Carter!"

Something in the boyish slang of my evidently stricken companion unleashed my faculties. I formed and shouted a resolution, "Warren, brace up! I'm coming down!" But at this offer the tone of my auditor changed to a scream of utter despair:

"Don't! You can't understand! It's too late—and my own fault. Put back the slab and run—there's nothing else you or anyone can do now!" The tone changed again, this time acquiring a softer quality, as of hopeless resignation. Yet it remained tense through anxiety for me.

"Quick—before it's too late!" I tried not to heed him; tried to break through the paralysis which held me, and to fulfil my vow to rush down to his aid. But his next whisper found me still held inert in the chains of stark horror.

"Carter—hurry! It's no use—you must go—better one than two—the slab—" A pause, more clicking, then the faint voice of Warren:

"Nearly over now—don't make it harder—cover up those damned steps and run for your life—you're losing time— So long, Carter—won't see you again." Here Warren's whisper swelled into a cry; a cry that gradually rose to a shriek fraught with all the horror of the ages—

"Curse these hellish things—legions— My God! Beat it! Beat it! Beat it!"

After that was silence. I know not how many interminable aeons I sat stupefied; whispering, muttering, calling, screaming into that telephone. Over and over again through those aeons I whispered and muttered, called, shouted, and screamed, "Warren! Warren! Answer me—are you there?"

And then there came to me the crowning horror of all—the unbelievable, unthinkable, almost unmentionable thing. I have said that aeons seemed to elapse after Warren shrieked forth his last despairing warning, and that only my own cries now broke the hideous silence. But after a while there was a further clicking in the receiver, and I strained my ears to listen. Again I called down, "Warren, are you there?", and in answer heard the thing which has brought this cloud over my mind. I do not try, gentlemen, to account for that thing—that voice—nor can I venture to describe it in detail, since the first words took away my consciousness and created a mental blank which reaches to the time of my awakening in the hospital. Shall I say that the voice was deep; hollow; gelatinous; remote; unearthly; inhuman; disembodied? What shall I say? It was the end of my experience, and is the end of my story. I heard it, and knew no more. Heard it as I sat petrified in that unknown cemetery in the hollow, amidst the crumbling stones and the falling tombs, the rank vegetation and the miasmal vapours. Heard it well up from the innermost depths of that damnable open sepulchre as I watched amorphous, necrophagous shadows dance beneath an accursed waning moon. And this is what it said:

"YOU FOOL, WARREN IS DEAD!"

Wednesday 21 May 2014

Y Scaa Harrish Innsmouth: Y Faishneyr

StateLibQld 1 115060 Interior of a shop at Killarney, 1910-1920

By haittin lhiam faagail y barroose, as hie mee çhelleeragh dys shamyr ‘ailt boght y thie oast son dy hashtey y kishtey troailtys aym. Cha row agh un fer ry-akin—shenn dooinney gyn y “blass Innsmouth”, myr va mee smooinaghtyn er nish—as reih mee gyn feysht jeh er ny cooishyn va boirey orrym. Chooinnee mee dy row ad er vakin reddyn quaagh ‘sy thie oast shoh. Ny share, hooill mee ‘sy cherrin—va’n barroose ersooyl hannah—as cur shilley kiarailagh as smooinaghtagh er y reayrtys.

Va linney jeeragh ny h-awiney er un çheu y cherrin feayn mooirlaigagh. Va lieh-chiarkyl dy hieyn breekey er sceau er y çheu elley, ass amm 1800 er lhiam. Heeyn straiddyn nyn drooid lesh y jiass, sheear-yiass as shiar-yiass. By ghoan ny sollyssyn v’ayn, as ad nyn sollyssyn bane heh gyn monney bree. Va boggey mooar orrym dy row eh foym faagail roish y cheeiraght, ga dy nee eayst yial v’ayn noght.

Monday 19 May 2014

Quailtys

Manston Churchyard

Quailtys

Lesh goaill arrane ayns ny raaidyn mooarey, as jummal traa marish contoyrtee hrullee, hie Foaynoo shaghey y vard.

As ren y bard foast atteeyn beggey ass arrane jee, dys jesheenaghey e baaish eddin ayns quaillyn Hraa; as 'syn ynnod oc, cheau ish foast ny slonganyn gyn feeu hilg feallee annymoil huick ‘sy raad, jeant jeh reddyn çherraghtagh.

As lurg tammylt, tra hooar ny slonganyn baase, boallagh y bard çheet jee as atteeyn arrane echey jee; as boallagh ee gearey er as ceau foast ny slonganyn gyn feeu, ga dy dooar ad rieau baase ‘syn ‘astyr.

As laa dy row as eshyn sharroo hug y bard oghsan jee, as gra: “Foaynoo aalin, eer fo-raad as fo-straaid cha nel oo shaghney gearey orrym as yllagh as spotçhal marish riftanyn, as mish t’er dooilleil er-dty-hon as er nreamal jeed, t’ou craidey moom as goll my haghey.”

As hyndaa Foaynoo e h-eddin jeh as shooyl voish, agh lesh faagail yeeagh eh harrish e geaylin as mynghearey er mongey nagh row eck roie, as, faggys myr hannish, dooyrt ee:

“Higym dty whaiyl ‘sy ruillick çheu-chooylloo Hie ny Moght ayns keead bleeaney.”


The Assignation

Fame singing in the highways, and trifling as she sang, with sordid adventurers, passed the poet by.

And still the poet made for her little chaplets of song, to deck her forehead in the courts of Time: and still she wore instead the worthless garlands, that boisterous citizens flung to her in the ways, made out of perishable things.

And after a while whenever these garlands died the poet came to her with his chaplets of song; and still she laughed at him and wore the worthless wreaths, though they always died at evening.

And one day in his bitterness the poet rebuked her, and said to her: "Lovely Fame, even in the highways and the byways you have not foreborne to laugh and shout and jest with worthless men, and I have toiled for you and dreamed of you and you mock me and pass me by."

And Fame turned her back on him and walked away, but in departing she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him as she had not smiled before, and, almost speaking in a whisper, said:

"I will meet you in the graveyard at the back of the Workhouse in a hundred years."


Ta'n skeealeen shoh çhyndaait ass The Assignation liorish yn Çhiarn Dunsany. Ta'n lioar vunneydagh ry-lhaih er Project Gutenberg.

Monday 12 May 2014

Wiki: Çhyndaadeyr imraaghyn

Çhyndaadeyr

Foddee y greie shoh cur Gaelg er clowanyn imraa cadjin (cite web, cite journal, cite book).

Cha nel far-inçhynaght echey; myr shen, shegin dhyt shickyraghey y teks ny yei çhyndaa! T'eh cur parameteryn 'sy Ghaelg ayns ynnyd adsyn 'sy Vaarle. Verragh eh ad ayns ynnydyn neuchooie ny keayrtyn, foddee. Cur fys dou my vaikys oo marranys ennagh jeant echey as nee'm my chooid share eshyn y charraghey.

Dys jannoo ymmyd jeu, cur teks ass Wiki ny Baarle stiagh 'sy chishtey heese as crig er y chramman cooie. Ta'n rheynn s'inshley lhiggey dhyt (wahll, douys) çhyndaadeyryn noa y chroo dy aashagh (agh t'eh brisht nish er fa ennagh).

Ren mee y greie shoh son my ynnyd-eggey bunneydagh nagh vel aym foast. S'treisht lhiam dy nee eh gobbraghey dy mie ayns shoh.