#Táin Bó Cúailgne

[apaelfwine]

Mar a Fuair Cú Chulainn Síob go Cuaille

Tráthnóna álainn fómhair bhí mé i mo shuí i dTeach Abeba, an siopa caife is ansa liom in Eamhain Mhacha, agus mé ar mo sháimhín só, nuair a tháinig Cú Chulainn isteach. D’aithin mé ar an toirt go raibh mo dhuine réidh le gar a iarraidh orm. Bhrú mé mo shrón ar ais san iris seandálaíochta a bhí á léamh agam, agus ghuigh mé Rí na Glóire agus Muire na nGrást go raibh dul amú orm. D’fhéadadh nach bhfuil sé anseo ach chun cailín a bhréagadh, an barista álainn úr as Corcaigh, abair.

Tá seanaithne agam air, an dtuigeann tú? Casadh dúinn lena chéile ar an mheánscoil nuair a chonaic mé dalta céad bhliana agus stócach mór láidir sa cheathrú bhliain—mar a bhí mise ag an am—ag tabhairt aghaidh ar a chéile. Rinne mé iarracht teacht eatarthu leis an leaid beag a shábháil... ach mar a tharla ba é mo pháirtí ranga a fuair an greadadh.

D’fhoghlaim mé níos déanaí go raibh Séadanda Mac Neasa ag staidéar ealaín chomhraic faoi stiúir an traenálaí cháiliúil Culann Mac Gabhainn ó bhí sé sé nó seacht mbliana d’aois. Sin mar a fuair sé an leasainm a thugann achan duine—lasmuigh dá athair, Sualdamh Mac Róich, agus dá mháthair, Deichtine Nic Neasa—air, fiú a uncail, Conchúr Mac Neasa, Ardthiarna Uladh.

An gcuirfeá locht air? Ainm ar nós Séadanda... bhuel, d’fhéadadh go ndéarfá nach bhfuil ceart cainte agam féin agus Lao Mac Rianghabhra orm.

Aidhe, caithfidh mé a admháil go bhfuil gaol i bhfad amach idir mise agus Cú s’againne. De shliocht laochra na Craoibhe Rua muidne, de shliocht na tiarnaí agus na ridirí a chuir ruaig ar na Normannaigh agus—ar mhaithe an bhráithreachas Cheiltigh, mar a scríobhadh i seanleabhair scoile, nó ar ghrá na creiche, mar a maíonn staraí an lae inniu—a sheol trasna Mhuir Éireann le troid in éadan na Sacsanach nuair a chuir ríochtaí Gwynedd agus Rheged Athghabháil na Breataine i gcrích. De shliocht na saighdiúirí uaisle a d’iompair Gall Gréine na hÉireann ar fud an domhain agus a chloígh Forghabhálaí na Baváire sa Chogadh Eoráiseach, mar a chuireann Daideo i gcuimhne domh gach uair a bhfaigheann sé deis.

Ainmneacha seanfhaiseanta... laethanta saoire scoile á gcaitheamh againn i dtithe móra seanchaite i gcuideachta seanóirí a raibh níos mó eolas acu ar mhionsonraí stair mhíleata na Meánaoise ná ar rud ar bith a tharla sa chéad seo... seanscéal uaisle na hÉireann agus meirg air, tá a fhios agat.

Chuala mé gliogaireacht na slabhraí amaideacha ar an tseaicéad leathair a bhíodh á chaitheamh aige le déanaí, amhail is dá mbeadh Macdara Mallaithe nó punc-cheoltóir eile ó na seachtóidí ann, agus thuig mé go raibh sé ag teacht i mo threo. Ba mhór an trua nach raibh clóca draíochta agam mar a bhí ag an leaid—Harri y Crochenydd, nó ainm mar sin—sna leabhair fantaisíochta ón Bhreatain a bhíodh mo dheirfiúr is óige gafa leo, chun go bhféadfainn dul i bhfolach.

Shuigh sé síos ag an bhord in aice liom, gan chuireadh gan iarraidh. “Tráthnóna maith duit, a Lao, a bhráthair. Caide mar atá tú?”

D’amharc mé go géar air, ach sula dtiocfadh liom focal a rá tháinig iníon an úinéara chugainn, tráidire ina lámha. Leag sí pota úr caife ar an bhord dharach smolchaite, agus cupán glan do Chú Chulainn. “Go raibh maith agat, a Mhakeda” ar seisean, agus rinne sí meangadh gáire leis, a haghaidh álainn chrón lasta le phléisiúr mar a bheadh Oisín Óg ann in áit rógaire ceart críochnaithe agus gruaig thrídhathach air.

“Mura miste leat, d’ordaigh mé pota dúinn beirt.” Líon sé mo chupán le caife sula dhoirt sé a chuidse. Duine múinte go smior é, ar a bhealach féin. "Im?"

Gan smaointeamh, thóg mé an babhla a shín sé chugam agus chuir mé prionta beag ime i mo chaife. “Cad é a thug anseo thú, a Chú?”

Chrom sé ar a chupán féin—é ag cur daba mór meala ann, ar nós páiste—agus chorraigh sé é. “An gá cúis a bheith agam caint le seanchomrádaí dílis?” D’ardaigh mé mo mhala, agus lig sé osna as. “Bhuel, mar a tharlaíonn... Aon seans go dtiocfadh leat síob a thabhairt domh ag deireadh na seachtaine, le do thoil?”

“Dáiríre? Do charr á dheisiú arís, an ea? Agus an carr eile chomh maith?”

“Bhuel...”

“Cad é a rinne tú anois?”

Tháinig cuma na náire air. Is annamh an rud é sin, mise á rá leat. “Tá cosc tiomána orm. Sé mhí, an gcreidfeá?”

D’amharc mé suas chun na bhflaitheas. “Agus é tuillte ort gan amhras, a mhic-ó.”

“Débhealach a bhí ann, in ainm Dé! Bhí mé sách cinnte nach raibh an teorainn luais chomh íseal sin. Níl sé féaráilte in aon chór.”

“Agus an t-am roimhe sin?”

“Tá a fhios agat féin céard a dúirt an cladhaire Connachtach úd Feilimí Mac Eochaidh. ‘Gliogar gránna de sheancharr spíonta,’ a thug sé ar Liath Mhacha s’agamsa! Ar onóir Uladh amháin a chuaigh mé ag rásaíocht leis! Cad chuige faoin spéir nár thuig an breitheamh go raibh mé ag cosaint chlú ár gcúige? Mar is dualgas liom ó bhroinn!”

Chroith mé mo chloigeann. “In ainm Chroim, a Chú, tá Ríocht na hÉireann ina monarcacht bhunreachtúil le trí céad bliana anuas.”

Rinne sé comhartha gáirsiúil. “Fuair mé pas le gradam in Oideachas Saoránach, creid nó ná creid.”

Chreid mé, déantar na fírinne. Tá intleacht mhaith ag Cú s’againne, cé gur annamh a mbíonn sí á húsáid aige le rud ar bith a dhéanamh seachas cliúsaíocht le iarrthóirí PhD. “Mar sin, caithfidh go bhfuil tuiscint agat nach bhfuil ceart éirice nó cód na laochra nó a leithéid de raiméis ann níos mó. Níl cead raide agat, d’ainneoin gur nia Thiarna Uladh thú. Nó aigesean, d’ainneoin gur mac Bhantiarna Chonnachta é féin.”

“Ar son Uladh...” ar seisean faoina anall.

Rinne mé mo dhícheall cur i gcéill nár chuala mé é. “Agus roimhe sin?”

“Níor thiomáin mé ach tríocha ciliméadair thar an teorainn... agus nach álainn í an garda a tharraing i leataobh mé? Theip orm áitiú uirthi an ticéad a scriosadh, ach mar sin féin bhí sí breá sásta dul amach liom an Satharn ina dhiaidh sin. Fuair mé luach an ticéid agus tuilleadh ar an oíche úd, creid uaimse é, a chailleach.”

Sin é Cú Chulainn agat. Fear mór na mban é, d’ainneoin an chlúimh nár fhás fós air. De réir na cosúlachtaí, tá dúil ag cailíní an lae inniu i stócaigh dathúla ar nós na mboc sna mbannaí buachaillí.

Bhuel, níl mé ag gearán. Tá neart ban ann go fóill nach bhfuil dall ar an fhéasóg fhearúil s’agamsa, geallaim duit.

Lig mé osna uaim. “Maith go leor, a Chú. Más rud é nach bhfuil cead tiomána agat, cad chuige faoin spéir go bhfuil tú ag iarraidh síbe uaimse? Cé mhéad tiománaithe gairmiúla a bhfuil fostaithe ag Clann Mhic Neasa, nó ag do dhaid go pearsanta?”

Chuir sé strainc air féin. “Cuireann siad uilig Séadanda orm! Bhraithfinn mar a bheinn faoi chúram fheighil leanaí. Nach fearr comrádaí dílis a dtuigeann go bhfuil fear feasta ionam?”

“Más rud é go bhfuil, a mhic-ó.”

“Ó, cinnte, seanduine liath atá ionat, a Lao.”

Deamhan a fhios agam cad chuige ar ghéill mé dó, ach ghéill sa deireadh, go bhfóire Dia orm. Agus sin mar a tharla mé a bheith ag stiúradh Mercedes maorga a thug mo dhuine Dubh Sanglainn air—ní ligfeadh an náire don Chú taisteal sa Citroën beag praiticiúil agamsa, agus ní ligfeadh an ciall domhsa tiomáint charr spóirt a bhíodh súil géar á choimhéad ag na gardaí air, amhail Liath Mhacha s’aigesean—chuig Ionad Comhdhála Cuaille agus Comórtas Tháin an Dá Tharbh, an tionól ealaín chomhraic is mó in Éirinn.

Thug mé fá deara le déanaí go raibh corpas fanfic ann don Táin, ach é uilig i mBéarla. Mar sin, ba léir go raibh dualgas orm an bhearna a líonadh. Ní bhfuair mé trácht ar bith ar AO3 go fóill agus an scéal seo ar an tsuíomh le mí anuas, agus mar sin rith sé liom gur chóir domh triail a bhaint as é a phostáil anseo.

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Jet as Cú Chulainn and Zuko as Ferdiad au when

[firstofficerrose]

Listening to Episode 7 of Blúirini Béaloidis, and they're talking about the Táin Bó Cúailnge. And there's this prelude to the Táin, where there's these two magical pigkeepers who get hopping mad at each other and have a years long competition of magic. It sounds like a variation on The Oldest Game, and there's a part where the two pigkeepers both spend a full year transformed.

Which makes me wonder, if you're transformed for a year, and I'm transformed for a year, who's keeping the pigs!?!?

[mineapostasy]

I originally fell in love with the name from Ossian Brown, who was in Coil and compiled the photos for Haunted Air (I'm sure you've seen pictures floating around but you should definitely check it out!). But indeed! The final stroke came after reading some more on the beautiful mythology. I can't wait to read more about it :)

It's a fascinating series of stories. It also sheds some light on the early Irish civilisation: a group of people who weren't so much feudal as tribal, and wherein there was music for everything. Did you know that Gaelic is one of the oldest languages in Western Europe (possibly the oldest, other than Sanskrit)? They also made their way as far South as the Mediterranean (the Greeks make reference to the Gaels in writing, e.g. "strange men from the north with strange voices") and that Galicia in Spain and Brittany in France are both Celtic regions?

Anyway, enough of me gushing about the damned language. If you haven't, yet, look into the Táin Bó Cúailgne; it's a fairly well-known story. Once you have a background in the mythology, then you should start reading tonnes of Joyce, Yeats, and Beckett!

Slán agat!

[sirjolt]

Intellectual Pursuits

I spent the best part of this afternoon playing Rainbow 6 with my younger brother, in a haze of concussion grenades, laser sights playing through rippling clouds of smoke and whining thermal vision.

I spent the best part of this evening talking to my sister about the mad ends people we've written with and for have come to. These included an editor of mine who has since gone on to become some kind of strange yogic cult leader (no joke) and a former workmate who has been described by people in his industry as having undergone a spiral out of touch with reality that hasn't curbed his journalism.

I spent the best part of tonight talking to my dad about The Táin (or Táin Bó Cúailgne) and why I think I'll take my chances and try to read it in Irish at some point in the not-too-distant future. I had no idea until tonight just how little Irish my dad speaks/understands, or the extent to which my understanding of the language is traceable to one horrific/traumatic teacher I had when I was 11/12.

Interesting times.

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Discourse regarding the Táin bó Cuailnge-- Queen Medb was within her rights to take the cow, but should have just asked to borrow it for a bit instead of stealing it.

(I know i said that last one was the last Táin post, but i lied)

I mean, Medb did ask, and not just to borrow it, but to rent it. She told Daire that she'd not only return it, but pay him back in more cattle, extremely fertile land, and her "friendship" which of course means [redacted]. My guess is as the cow in question is actually a prized stud bull with magical properties, she intended to breed a ton of magical cattle to make up for the property she would have given in return. It's pretty hard to argue that someone's wealth is greater than yours when your livestock is unbeatable (and since her husband's bull used to be hers it would mean both had at one point been in her posession).

Daire felt insulted that a queen would be able and willing to take from him and said no, despite all he'd be given for it if he said okay. Medb's response was "well i'm now honorbound to kick you ass and also your king has already wronged me so i want him dead too."

And even if she had no intention on paying him back, that seems to be a suspiciously generous payment entirely to rent an animal, and there people of Ulster who probably felt uncomfortable giving the bull to Connacht for any period of time (Medb herself points this out and tries to accomodate it) given the bad blood between the kingdoms. So either Daire unfairly trusted drunk messengers more than the queen who sent them and didn't accept the offer out of his own pride or his greed and lust took precedant over his critical thinking and willingness to think outside of himself and allowed him to be duped in the first place. I haven't read enough about Medb outside of the Táin enough to say which is a more correct reading of the situation, but either way it looks to me like Daire made a fool of himself and let it be all of Ulster's problem.

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Last post about the Táin on this blog i promise:

You should definitely read it because it has a mythical hero who is sometimes held up as this ultimate masculine ideal and he's an otherworldly twink who has to rub something on his face because he's too young to grow a beard and so none of the men want to fight him.

Also a bunch of people get mad when you suggest he might not be straight and his magical spear that can penetrate anything is serendipitously named Gáe Bulga.

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Btw if anyone also wanted to get into the Táin Bó Cúailnge but find the massive walls of text and pretty consistant lack of clarification to be inaccessible, Lora O'Brian has a series on youtube where she reads it and annotates with her own knowledge of the historical, cultural, and mythical context that readers would have been expected to have when it was written

[mostly-mundane-atla]

You know, i think i will work this into an avatar context:

Sokka and Jet both like Cú Chulainn but Sokka didn't realize it was a bi thing for him until he heard the way Jet talked about the legendary hero and his stories.

Jet first learned the stories through some local artist's mini comics xeroxed on pages of 8.5×11 printer paper that were cut in half with scissors and stapled in the middle with a rusty stapler. There were no pronunciation guides so for the longest time he thought Chulainn was pronounce "choo-lane" until Ursa told him the correct pronunciation.

Aang and Katara both wish Finnabair got a little more focus, with Katara specifically wondering what would have happened between her and Cú Chulainn if they did actually spend a day together

Toph unironically stans Queen Medb

[mostly-mundane-atla]

Hey guys, things might take a while for me to post regularly and answer asks. Nothing's wrong actually, things are getting more stable for me, i'm just getting really into the Táin Bó Cuailgne and it's a bit difficult to switch gears

But while i'm on the topic, anyone else here a fan of Cú Chulainn and think he and Ferdiad should kiss?