Meon Gaelach: An Essential Gaeltober Reading List
The following first appeared on the Substack ‘Creeve Rua’ and is syndicated with the permission of the author.
An introductory list for literature of the Gaels
This post is a brief compendium of what I believe to be the essential literary texts and collections of texts which best encapsulate the cultural, literary and intellectual mindset necessary for the true revival of ár gcultúr, nós agus teanga dúchasach.
Scríbhneoireacht An Phiarsaigh le Pádraig Mac Piarais
From his speeches, essay writing for An Claidheamh Soluis, to the Íosagán and other short stories, to the various plays and poems, the literary output of Mac Piarais as Gaeilge was absolutely astounding. This, as well as his centrality to modern Irish history, makes him the perfect nexus point for literature of the Meon Gaelach.
There are few better places to start however, in my view, than the oath which the Uachtarán an Rialtais Shealadaigh asked his followers to take. In a style of battle-cry meets solemn payer, Mionn urges Gaelicists to swear the mionna do-bheireadh ar sinnsir (‘oaths our ancestors swore’) to demonstrate one’s loyalty to the ideal of a Gaelic and Free nation. Echoing the reference to the “six times” the Irish people “asserted their right to national freedom” in the Forógra na Poblachta (Proclomation), the poem celebrates all our past martyrs from Aodh Rua to the United Irishmen. To embody the meon of a fíorghael, one must be willing to join those gallant men:
Go bhfuasclóchaimíd do ghéibheann ar gcinidh, Nó go dtuitfimíd bonn le bonn. Ámén.
(‘That we will free our race from bondage, Or that we will fall fighting hand to hand. Amen.’)
Peig agus An tOileánach le Peig Sayers agus Tomás Ó Criomhthain
Moving away from such a militant or political form of Gaelicism, both these works of the last great seanchaithe of Na Blascaodaí are essential literary achievements, transporting the reader into the increasingly threatened world of the rooted Gaels, with all the toil and struggle that comes with such a life. Of course, the post-60s Leaving Cert reliance on these works, and their portrayal of spartan resilience in the face of total poverty, didn’t always make for the most attractive world-image of the Gaels’ way of life — famously and brilliantly parodied by Myles na gCopaleen’s classic An Béal Bocht. Many urbanised Gen-X students were turned off by Peig’s brutal honesty, such as in the famous line: Seanabhean is ea mise anois go bhfuil cos léi insan uaigh is an chos eile ar a bruach (“I am an old woman now with one foot in the grave and the other on its edge”)
However, I think if one truly takes in these works, as with Muiris Ó Súilleabháin’s Fiche Bliain ag Fás, it becomes clear that what is cherished here is not wallowing in nostalgia or despair, but in fact profound appreciation of the mundane, everyday familial life, which we so often take for granted. As Ó Criomhthain explains his intentions at the críoch of his story — to put his community’s life in such narrative detail, relishing in the mundane drudgery of everyday island life, he has immortalised his people, ensuring that their stoic resilience will never be forgotten, preserved in the ancient literary consciousness of the Gael:
Do scríobhas go mion-chruinn ar a lán dár gcúrsaí d’fhonn go mbeadh cuimhne i mball éigin ortha agus thugas iarracht ar mheon na ndaoine bhí im’ thimcheall a chur síos chun go mbeadh ár dtuairisc ’ár ndiaidh, mar ná beidh ár leithéidí arís ann.
(“I have written minutely of much that we did, for it was my wish that somewhere there should be a memorial of it all, and I have done my best to set down the character of the people about me so that some record of us might live after us, for the like of us will never be again.”)
Foras Feasa ar Éirinn le Seathrún Céitinn
Building upon the wonderful storytelling and dindsenchas of medieval classics such as the Leabhar Gabhála Éireann and the Annála na gCeithre Máistrí, this work provides a comprehensive historical and intellectual account of Gaeldom. Comparable to the impact of Shakespeare in Anglo literature, it has been described as the essential ‘origin-legend for Counter-Reformation Catholic Ireland’. It also provides the revolutionary concept of the Éireannaigh into the modern world, the notion of a holistic and unified national ethnos on this island, transcending the traditional divides of the regional tuatha as well as the more recent Norman arrivals.
What makes Céitínn’s delineation here so essential to the historiography of Gaelic ideas is that it clearly demonstrates that the core of Gaeldom is that of civilisational excellence, as against the debased, wretchedness of Anglicised modernity. This contrasts with much of the more modern framing of Irish ‘anti-imperialism’, which situates Irish rebellion in the anarchic tradition of the ‘wretched of the earth’, opposed to high-civilisation. Instead, Céitínn explicitly states his (proto-)nationalism comes from an state of intellectual, cultural and spiritual superiority to the Reformation:
Ní ar fhuath ná ar ghrádh droinge ar bioth seach a chéile, ná ar fhuráileamh aonduine, ná do shúil re sochar d'fhaghbháil uaidh, chuirim rómham stáir na h-Éireann do scríobhadh, acht do bhrígh gur mheasas ná'r bh'oircheas comhonóraighe na h-Éireann do chrích, agus comh-uaisle gach foirne d'ár áitigh í, do dhul i mbáthadh, gan luadh ná iomrádh do bheith orra
(“It is not for hatred nor for love of any set of people beyond another, nor at the instigation of anyone, nor with the expectation of obtaining profit from it, that I set forth to write the history of Ireland, but because I deemed it was not fitting that a country so honourable as Ireland, and races so noble as those who have inhabited it, should go into oblivion without mention or narration being left of them”)
Na Dánta le Máirtín Ó Direáin
A topic which I have covered before, Ó Direáin’s work continues to be the most prescient poetic encapsulation of the modern Gael’s existential relationship with modernity. While Mhac an tSaoi and Ó Ríordáin are two contemporaries certainly also deserving of attention, I do not think any other figure has so elegantly tackled the metaphysical crises of Modern Ireland™’s full-throttled assault on Éire Oifigiúil
From the splintering effect of industrial civilisation on rooted traditions (Stoite, Ár Ré Dhearóil), the Gaels becoming aliens in their own native capital of Dublin bureaucracy (Strainséir, Deireadh Ré), to the necessity of reviving a sort of Gaelic übermensch through Nieztschean apologetics (Ó Mórna, Cloch Choirnéil) — Ó Direáin’s voice clearly reflects the metaphysical destiny of the 21st Century Gael. When one considers Aodh De Blácam’s analysis of the Gaels retaining the potential of a cultural springtime, the future looks exceedingly bright. Could Ó Direáin’s work for Ireland play the role Dostoyevsky and Solzhenitsyn played for those who dreamt of liberation from Bolshevism? Only time will tell.
Ar ór-mhuir mhall, I ndeireadh lae;
San Earrach thiar.
(“On a calm golden sea, At eventide
In the Western Spring.”)
An Táin
Where else could this list end but with the work which first captured in writing the metaphysical consciousness of the Gaels. Referred to by many as ‘the Gaelic Iliad’, it recounts in epic prose and verse the famous tale of Banríon Méabh, Rí Ailill mac Máta and their Connachtmen’s war on Ulaidh for the titular Donn Cúailnge. Reflecting the Gael’s appetite for heroism, battle and tragedy, the text contains all the vitality and exhilaration of an All-Ireland Final.
Perhaps the most essential image to be instilled in the modern reader however is that of the resilience of one young Gael, faced with the cosmic struggle of singlehandedly saving his people from invasion and subjugation. While all the great men of Ulaidh are put under Macha’s ces noínden curse, a sort of mental and spiritual castration rendering them incapable of defending their ethnos, Cú Chulainn arises from his ríastrad in a sort of spiritual and psychological revolution, a man reborn, prepared to salvage his tuath.
Mac beag a rinne na gníomhartha sin i gcionn seacht mbliana tar éis a bhreithe, a sháraigh na curaidh agus na cathmílí lena raibh dhá dtrian d’fhir Uladh tar éis titim agus nach bhfuair siad díoltas orthu go dtí gur éirigh an ghin sin chucu, níor ghá alltacht ná iontas a dhéanamh de dá dtagadh sé go hoirear críche
(“A little lad who did those deeds when he was seven years old, who overcame the champions and warriors by whom two thirds of the men of Ulster had fallen and had been unavenged until this boy arose, there were no need to wonder or marvel that he should come to the marches”)
After reading this one takeaway should be clear: not only should all young Gaels embrace reading this and all the other great works of Gaelic literature discussed, but we should be fighting for its expansion into modern Irish culture. 300-style semi-animated adaption of An Táin, anyone?