The Companion to the Fiery Cross, a Breath of Snow and Ashes, an Echo in the Bone, and Written in My Own Heart's Blood

by Diana Gabaldon

  63 No, I didn’t choke him—but only because I couldn’t reach him across the table.

  64 Lord John and the Private Matter. I thought it was a short story when I wrote it but was otherwise informed by my two agents, who said (as one), “That’s the size normal books are.”

  65 Which, as any revolutionary can tell you, is when Things Begin to Happen.

  66 Borders, curse them, promised to move the books out of romance but never did. And you see what happened to them….

  67 And my grateful thanks to the staff and leadership of Barnes & Noble for their years of enthusiastic and imaginative support!

  PART SIX

  A COMPREHENSIVE SCOTTISH LANGUAGE GLOSSARY AND PRONUNCIATION GUIDE—BY ÀDHAMH Ó BROIN

  eo a-nis, a chàirdean! Here we go, friends!

  The Scottish-language section of this veritable smorgasbord of a book is complete. What a pleasure it is to be sitting here mulling over both the content of this glossary and once again the significance of Diana Gabaldon’s unprecedented contribution to the “Scottish cultural situation.”

  Us Scots have all made more than the occasional gripe about American portrayals of our indigenous cultural themes over the years. In the case of certain pieces of literature and cinematography, this has quite often been perfectly justified. In coming to Diana’s work, however, I wish strongly to suggest that my fellow Scots revise this now-ingrained knee-jerk reaction. The very first time I met Diana, she was above anything else absolutely preoccupied with making sure I didn’t think she’d made a pig’s ear of the Gaelic. I told her what I’ve said many times since—that if people are concentrating on a couple of erroneous spellings and contextual misuses, then they are obviously habitual wrong-tree-barkers. My take is this: Diana could save on a whole load of hassle and leave Scottish language out altogether, or she could employ the same tenacious pursuit of detail that pervades every page of these remarkable novels and give it its place in what has turned out to be a multimillion-selling, wildly successful Scottish fantasy franchise. Taing dhut, I’ll take the latter.

  Perhaps Diana also did what most people from outside Scotland who aren’t intimately aware of our cultural situation would do—she assumed that when speaking after the Germanic fashion, eighteenth-century Gaels would speak Lowland Scots. She assumed that Scottish people of the time would be proud of both their living native languages, and what’s more, most all the Gaelic-speaking characters in Outlander are fluent in Mercian (standard) English, too, meaning that the portrait Diana has painted of us Scots is of a trilingual, culturally vigorous, but very much outward-looking people. To be perfectly honest, Ms. Gabaldon has cast us in the best possible light linguistically speaking, and I am very grateful for this. In our modern, culturally whitewashed age, a proudly trilingual people would seem like something to be marvelled at indeed, because we often forget that there are actually people all over the world for whom this situation is entirely natural and normal. While history has all but deprived us Scots of what multilingualism we had, two of our indigenous languages survive, and we now have an even better chance to stop the rot, backed as we are by a whole world of fresh interest and respect for our native culture. More than ever, this world is watching to see what we’ll do next.

  What will determine the outcome of this will not be government legislation, community funding, or Gaelic-medium education—despite these seemingly being the preoccupation of the majority—but individual drive, passion, and commitment to making our native languages the absolute center point of our cultural existence as Scots. As denizens of the Western World, we have become used to giving up our sense of agency over much of our lives and have plugged into the mainframe, often relinquishing the ability to affect real change in the spheres of our existence which truly matter. One of those spheres is that of language, and I sincerely believe that the content of Diana Gabaldon’s books has gifted us the opportunity for new focus, which may not have appeared through anything other than the magnifying glass now applied to our endeavors from the outside. The fact that the story has also appeared in such terrific fashion as Outlander the TV series means that the platform on which we operate in promoting what is precious about our culture is a wider and altogether more effective one. I for one am relishing the chance to act on this most fortuitous circumstance.

  In returning to the current work, I had a few thoughts when first approaching this language glossary. I reckoned I could discuss directly the content of the books, giving a commentary on the situations which gave rise to the language employed. Alternatively, I could use the space instead to expand the reader’s experience of how the Scottish Gaelic and Lowland Scots languages are used, backing this with anecdotes, random facts, etymology, lessons on pronunciation, and a dip into the mostly very regular realm of Gaelic orthography. And as you’ll soon find out, I went with the second option. I figured that there are plenty of blogs, reviews, and commentaries out there on the content of the books and so the most useful thing to bring to the table would be those extra perspectives that come from being both a fluent Gael and fluent Scots speaker, something which those of you from both across the Loch and elsewhere might be surprised to hear is extraordinarily rare. I can count on one hand the people I know in this situation.

  Whatever the approach, the style is a personal one, as the content is personal to me—many of the words and phrases being those I use in my everyday life, both in Gaelic and Scots. It was not difficult to write about material I consider precious; in fact, it was often difficult to know when to stop! I must emphasize that my grasp of rural Scots forms is not complete, and therefore my perspective is mostly one of an urban Scots speaker—and a speaker of the Glasgow dialect, at that.

  My approach to Gaelic orthography—how the language is spelt—is also a personal one. As a successful Gaelic learner and now tutor of many years’ experience, I look at the teaching of the language from a very practical perspective. Our orthography is a versatile and regular one, like that of Spanish or Finnish, and I prefer to make use of that to its fullest extent.

  Northern and southern dialectical varieties are given full rein to stretch their wings with use of ia or eu vowel combinations, depending on how a word is most often pronounced rather than on an arbitrary spelling convention in modern Gaelic. Examples are given in the text. This allows the language the versatility of catering to all dialects.

  Likewise, I have retained the full verbal root bith, “to be,” in all circumstances, as I have found this to be a most confusing issue for learners who have to deal with both bi and bith and wonder what the difference is when in truth there is none!

  I have also removed the th from thu to leave the unambiguous u (as it is universally pronounced not /hoo/ but /oo/) for the informal “you,” more about which will also be explained in the text.

  Modern spelling convention changed the spelling of all words containing final u to a—e.g., àluinn to àlainn and maduinn to madainn—but for some inexplicable reason left one word unreformed, namely agus. Unsuprisingly and for reasons of consistency, I present it here as agas. All other words present in the text with final u have also been reformed in my suggestions under the main quotes themselves.

  A most peculiar thing that befell us rather recently was the removal of the acute accent in Gaelic spelling, which appears to have done no good whatsoever except to confuse and disable. I have therefore reinstated this most useful feature of Gaelic spelling, which now allows learners to ascertain immediately whether they should be saying è /e/ or é /eh/ or ò /aw/ or ó /oh/. I hope to see use of the acute accent spread once again in the ensuing years!

  Where I have made suggestions or corrections to the text in the books, I have done so either because there was a slight spelling error, because the orthography was irregular or could be confusing to learners who will make up a large section of the readership, or because usage was too modern. In this glossary, as with Outlander the TV show, I have always erred on the old-fashioned side. It would have been a little over
the top to insist on the language of the period—eighteenth-century Ross-shire Gaelic, in other words—which would have been somewhat incomprehensible even to most native speakers! However, I believe it is very important to be conservative idiomatically as a concession to the fact that the story is set at times as far back as two hundred seventy years ago. Standards of spoken Gaelic have fallen perilously over the last fifty years especially, and I therefore consider it a matter of principle to join others so disposed in retaining a corner of the Scottish Gaelic world as the preserve of strong, idiomatic speech!

  If I have differed in my take on the spelling of words or on idiomatic usage from Diana’s other sources for the Gaelic language, this does not necessarily mean that I consider what they have provided to be wrong—in the majority of cases most definitely not; it simply means that I have presented my own take at all times for the sake of consistency. In repackaging material from the first glossary, I have not always rewritten the accompanying notes, although at all times the phonetic system has been tidied up in line with how I have presented the rest of the work.

  My phonetic system is pronounced for the most part exactly as it appears.

  If you see something that looks exactly like an English word—e.g., /SHAME/—then you can assume it is pronounced just as it would be in English.

  /ch/ sounds like either the German ich or the Gaelic and Scots loch, while the sound at the beginning of the English word “chair” is represented using /tch/ as at the end of “catch.”

  The sound at the end of English words like “carry” or the surname “Rennie” will be represented with /i/ at the end of the phonetics—e.g., àrsaidh /ARsi/ (ancient).

  Where capital letters are used, this is to denote emphasis. So where you see capitals, go right ahead and stress that syllable—e.g., madainn mhath dhuibh /MA’din VA yooiy/ “good morning to you.”

  As you can see just here, I have also employed an apostrophe occasionally. This denotes a point at which a d or t falls in the middle of a word. This sound must “dance” across the tongue rather than being voiced deliberately, as it does in the likes of the British English pronunciation of the word “butter.” The less-dentalised pronunciation in American or Canadian English is in fact much closer to what I’d be looking to hear from learners attempting this sound in Gaelic! Not often you hear that!

  There are more than a couple of Gaelic sounds with which we are not familiar in English. I have chosen to represent two of these using characters from the International Phonetic Alphabet, as they are nigh on impossible to render using English-language phonetics.

  The first is /ɣ/ which is made by repeating the sound /g/ very quickly at the back of the throat until the throat itself has gone somewhat “slack.” It’s a sound that you spend your entire life attempting not to make, and here I am encouraging you to do it! Whenever you see /ɣ/ you know to give this sound a try.

  The second is /ǝ/ which is a neutral sound best spoken of as identical to the e at the end of the English definite article “the.” Say “the” a few times over and you will hear that the final vowel sound is a sort of dead, neutral one. That’s the one you want! So whenever you see this symbol /ǝ/ you know to make this sound.

  I have also made use of the umlaut /ö/ for the sound in the French ouef or the German möchte. This is another sound that we do not have in English, and yet it appears fairly often in Scottish Gaelic, especially in my own dialect of Dalriada, where it is almost impossible to predict from the spelling! If you’re not familiar with either French or German, perhaps you can compare this sound to something between an /oo/ and an /ee/. Imagine your reaction to the most putrid smell—“ewww!”—and you’re close!

  In general, my orthography and phonetic representations of the language are very much the product of my own take on its teaching and my experience of learner uptake during that. Therefore, my usages in this volume are simply for the ease of understanding and pleasure of the reader. I am not making suggestions for the improvement of the language in general unless stated as such! More often than not, I would seek to avoid phonetic guides altogether, but for the purposes of the written word in a volume such as this, they are verging on the essential. If there are irregularities, I can only apologise in advance and hope you will forgive this on account of my not being used to representing Gaelic sound in this way!

  I LEAVE YOU now to peruse the following pages; to enjoy, to learn, and hopefully to laugh, and I myself take leave of this work with a sense of great satisfaction at having been involved in such a pleasurable and hopefully useful pursuit.

  My thanks go to all my own teachers past and present. Perhaps you didn’t fully realise I was scrutinising your every syllable and pilfering your every word! My further thanks must be extended to Ruairidh MacCoinnich of Gairloch, who put up with my pestering phone calls at all times of morning and evening to ask him about the Gaelic of the MacKenzie during my research for the TV show. Much of what I learned infuses these pages, also. To all the lovely men and women of a certain vintage in the Highlands who have received me with such hospitality and patience as I attempted to keep alive your wisdom and grace by aping your very ways, gu robh móran math agaibh!

  To my wife and kids for backing my every venture and keeping me grounded when I was ready to take off into the clouds.

  And of course to Herself…or “Mrs. Wumman,” as she is affectionately known in “the Patter” of Glasgow. I called the cavalry and you arrived. Mo bheannachd ort. It takes a particular kind of person both to write and also to read eight 1,200-page novels…several times! Outlanders have redefined what I have come to expect from the “fan,” with their intelligence, discernment, and cultural awareness, and I hope to meet many more of you in person in the years to come. Thank you all for your continuing support of Scottish languages and culture. Its importance is something that is impossible to measure in words, whatever the language.

  Slàn leibh air an àm

  (health be with you for now),

  Àdhamh Ó Broin

  Glasgow, Scotland

  01/05/15

  Key: OLC Vol. 1—The Outlandish Companion FC—The Fiery Cross ABOSA—A Breath of Snow and Ashes EITB—An Echo in the Bone MOBY—Written in My Own Heart’s Blood

  Phrase (as printed): a bann-sielbheadair

  Phrase (if revised): a bhan shealbhadair

  Phonetic transcription: /ə van HELLəvadər/

  Book: OLC Vol. I

  pb:

  hc: 253

  Language: Gaelic (Gàidhlig)

  Translation: “Mistress”: more literally “owner of a bond of indenture.”

  Phrase (as printed): a bhalaich

  Phrase (if revised):

  Phonetic transcription: /ə VALich/

  Book: FC

  pb: 86

  hc: 59

  Language: Gaelic (Gàidhlig)

  Translation: “Oh, laddie”: this is still an extremely common form of address, even among those in the Isles who have let go their Gaelic, along the lines of “all right, a bhalaich—how’s it going?” Personally—as you might have imagined—I would prefer a wee ciamar a tha u? But we don’t always get what we want, especially in the case of Gaelic’s modern history!

  Phrase (as printed): a bana-mhaighistear

  Phrase (if revised):

  Phonetic transcription: /ə VANAvaiyshtchər/

  Book: ABOSA

  pb: 349

  hc: 240

  Language: Gaelic (Gàidhlig)

  Translation: “Mistress.”

  Phrase (as printed): a bhean

  Phrase (if revised):

  Phonetic transcription: /ə VEN/

  Book: FC

  pb: 806

  hc: 543

  Language: Gaelic (Gàidhlig)

  Translation: “Oh, woman/wife”: a bhean (vocative case) can be used in this sense, as Duncan addresses Jocasta, but is also the correct although now old-fashioned way to address one’s mother. My children—although they seldom speak Gaelic to my wife—w
ill sometimes attract her attention by use of a bhean.

  Phrase (as printed): a bheanachd

  Phrase (if revised): a bheannachd

  Phonetic transcription: /ə VYANəchk/

  Book: OLC Vol. I

  pb:

  hc: 253

  Language: Gaelic (Gàidhlig)

  Translation: “My blessing”: in the vocative case when speaking to the blessing itself.

  Phrase (as printed): a bhràthair

  Phrase (if revised):

  Phonetic transcription: /ə VRAhər/

  Book: FC

  pb: 138

  hc: 93

  Language: Gaelic (Gàidhlig)

  Translation: “Oh, brother.”

  Phrase (as printed): a bhràthair-mathàr

  Phrase (if revised): a bhràthair mo mhàthair

  Phonetic transcription: /ə VRAhər mo VAhər/

  Book: MOBY

  pb: 566

  hc: 411

  Language: Gaelic (Gàidhlig)

  Translation: “Oh, brother of my mother.”

  Phrase (as printed): a boireannach

  Phrase (if revised): a bhoireannaich

  Phonetic transcription: /ə VAWrənich/

  Book: ABOSA

  pb: 428

  hc: 294

  Language: Gaelic (Gàidhlig)

  Translation: “Oh, woman”: amusingly, this is one of a small number of Gaelic nouns which does not belong to the obvious gender. The Gaelic word for “woman” is—you guessed it—masculine! Likewise, the Gaelic word for a laborer or farm servant, sgalag, is feminine. So, is the suggestion that women wear the pants and do the real hard work? There is a lovely Gaelic version of “wearing the pants” which translates as “that hen certainly sports the cockerel’s comb”: ‘S ann air a’ chirc ud tha cìr a’ choilich/saown aira CHEERK oot ha KEER ə chölich/.

  Phrase (as printed): a ceann-cinnidh