The title of Brian Friel’s play, “Translations,” suggests the plurality of any single translation. A translation is an expression of knowledge into another language, or a conversion of conditions which renders an original into a new form. However, these definitions are not necessarily independent of one another. When standardizing the Gaelic names for landmarks, Owen and Lieutenant Yolland first consider the literal translations of the local names into English. Such that, the river called “Bun na hAbhann” literally translates into “bottom of the river’ (Friel 35). However, when still in Gaelic, the place is understood to be the mouth of the river where a little beach exists, not the riverbed like the English literal translation suggests. With the Ordinance of 1833, the conflict becomes how do you preserve the knowledge which incapsulates the Irish culture when translating the culture from Gaelic to English. Each time something doesn’t translate literally across languages, part of the original culture is lost. The play mimics the 1833 Ordinance’s goal by translating all lines of dialogue which is contextually understood to be spoken Gaelic into English, except for the local names of places. As such, the play reflects on the results of this translation by presenting precise details, but disregarding much of what has been lost in translation. Presenting both Gaelic and English dialogue in English, Brian Friel’s “Translations” employs histrionic interactions between static characters to demonstrate the danger of a community's knowledge as the language which sustaining the knowledge passes through translation.
To begin, language is not knowledge. Language is the communication of knowledge by giving definition to one’s thought in order to transfer knowledge between individuals. In Act One, the play opens with Manus— the school master’s compassionate, eldest son— teaching Sarah— a local women characterized with a speech defect so disabling that even she has accepted that she is “considered locally to be dumb”— to introduce herself (Friel 11). Because she is “considered” suggests the perception of her mental capacity, but does not confirm the accuracy in the local belief. Rather, she is simplified to a two-dimensional character with little depth beyond her constraint. The local characterization of Sarah being “dumb” suggests that she is absent of the capacity for knowledge. That she simply cannot learn and therefore, does not know. However, Manus’ interaction with Sarah suggests the larger storage of knowledge she already has. He repeats the sounds slowly to her: “My name is Sarah” (Friel 12). He shows patience as she formulates the sounds back. Sarah already knows her name. The lesson is in mimicry and confidence, but does not introduce new information to her. Manus aids Sarah to gain the means to communicate using the local language which allows her to formulate words to her knowledge— such as her name— and communicate this knowledge to others. As such, in the end of the act, when Owen— Manus’ younger brother— introduces himself to Sarah for the first time, she does not hesitate to reply. She tells Owen: “My name is Sarah Johnny Sally” (Friel 28). Her sentence is longer than that practiced with Manus and offers knowledge beyond what Manus has just approached in his lesson. With her response, Sarah confirms that her knowledge is more extensive than her name being Sarah, despite her the failures in her language skills to communicate such knowledge with others. As such, the common language between Sarah and Owen allowed for Sarah’s knowledge to be more accessible to her recipient, and for Owen to gain it as well.
Yet, to understand a language offers the means to communicate knowledge; it does not inherently equate to understanding this knowledge. Such that, in the hedge-school, Hugh— the schoolmaster— teaches his students the language skills necessary to approach a wider expanse of knowledge and skills. Students who have acquired the language skills he teaches are able to communicate with others who share these skills. Such that Manus can converse with Hugh because they are both fluent in Gaelic, but Sarah cannot freely do the same because her speech impertinent limits her scope of the language. However, the character’s competence in the language is not necessarily equivalent to their comprehension of the knowledge the language makes accessible. For example, Doalty— characterized as a “slightly thick young man” who studies under Hugh— freely converses about the community gossip with his fellow students in order to suggest his intelligence, although he himself is daft (Friel 17). Doalty’s characterization carries a tone of conviction in his description as “thick” to suggest his actual understanding of new information and the world around him is limited. Despite this characterization, the first interaction Doalty has after entering the barn for the first time imparts an illusion of self-proclaimed intelligence. He demonstrates a wide understanding of his mode of communication through his diversity in vocabulary, sentence structure, and grammar throughout the conversation. In a tone of absoluteness, he suggests his credibility. However, his demand to drive the conversation and his arrogant manner— a consequence of his illusion of his higher intelligence— hints at his masqueraded ignorance. With audacity, he questions other’s intelligence by explicitly demanding, “are [they] stupid” (Friel 21). His position as the speaker conveys, through his recognition of the other characters’ foolishness, that he believes himself to be the most intelligent of the group.
However when Hugh returns to lead the class, the dynamic shifts with the role of student and teacher. Hugh’s hired position of teacher— as the hedge-school costs a tuition— suggests his expertise compared to the students who pay for lessons under him. His role as teacher is to check the accuracy of Doalty’s answers, and his title of schoolmaster distinguishes his credibility and expertise. As such, regardless of his displays in spoken language, Doalty reveals his true denseness of what the language communicates throughout the lesson. Hugh’s style of teaching is singling out his individual students with spontaneous verbal-quiz questions. The questions are simple with only one correct answer, such as “seven times nine” (Friel 24). When appointed, Doalty's answers formulate in hesitating would it be— ah’s, incorrect answers, and quips to distract from what he does not know (Friel 24). In the rare occasion when Doalty offers the correct answer to Hugh’s quiz question, his arrogance returns with his self-perceived brilliance. Regardless of the depth or scale of the knowledge, he “is so pleased with himself that he prods and winks” whenever he answers a question correctly (Friel 25). Doalty’s arrogance returns after several displays of blatant ignorance. However, there is no suggestion that he learns from these moments of ignorance despite his participation in school. Doalty relies on his language skills alone. Yet despite his successes in language, Doalty’s personality fails to access new information when presented.
However, without language to access and communicate knowledge, the knowledge is lost and incapable of being taught forward. When languages decline in popularity, the knowledge it holds must be translated across languages in order to out survive its mother language. Anything which is forgotten in the translation process is lost when the mother language disappears from everyday use. In Act two, scene one, Owen questions whether they should protect a name with community significance that happened “a hundred-and-fifty years ago” if even the Gaelic community which named it has forgotten the history (Friel 44). He dares Yolland to “ask Doalty— or Maire— or Bridget— even [his] father— even Manus why its called Tobair Vree” (Friel 44). His tone is frustrated. He implies that all these individuals within the community already lack the historical knowledge of the name, despite knowing the language which holds this knowledge. His polysyndeton structure, further separated by em dashes before the conjunctions, exaggerates the futility in Yolland’s sentimentality. When reflecting that the history has already eroded and cannot be saved, Owen retells the story to Yolland as “[his] grandfather told it to [him]” of the landmark’s name (Friel 44). Regardless, Yolland insists they preserve the knowledge of the community’s history. He observes that Owen’s frustration is ironic. The act of retelling the story demonstrates that even if gradually destroyed, the history remains in some form, even if Owen is correct that only he remembers the history behind the name. When the language is standardized, when future generations no longer learns the Gaelic language, their will be no suggestion of the history the name preserves if the landmark’s name changes. Yolland insists his certainty that he wants the name to remain unchanged, reflecting his fear of losing a history that isn’t his. If the two men are to deny names with community significance from being translated onto the future standardized map, they are then responsible for the lost knowledge. As such, Yolland’s insistence recognizes that to translate without regard to local historical knowledge is to fail the culture.
Even when the knowledge is protected through translation, the translations are never literal or exact. They are the reinterpretations of their predecessors, and often lose or gain information. However, through translation, these reinterpretations can be shared among a larger audience. In Act three, Hugh— while characterized as “wet and drunk”— attempts to recite lines from the first book of Virgil’s the Aeneid (Friel 64). By characterizing Hugh as not just drunk, but wet without specifying if he is wet with sweat, rain, or liquor suggests the incapacitating nature of his intoxication. He is not in control of his mind or body. Even the knowledge which he claims, “sure I know it backways,” is subject to the translation from thought to speech (Friel 68). In his classical training and position of schoolmaster, he undoubtedly knows the entirety of the Virgil in both original Latin and coloquial translation. As such, when he attempts to recite the lines, he begins in Latin. He recites, “urbs antiqua fuit”— translated literally in English to “there was an ancient city”— but continues in a colloquial spoken translation, either English or Gaelic (Friel 68). He appears unaware that in his intoxicated state he switches between the original text and translation. The translation is colloquial employing contractions, aposiopesis, and ellipsis. As such, it does not reflect exactly the original text, bur reinterprets the work to language easily understood by his modern audience. However, in the middle of the excerpt, Hugh forget the text both in Latin and in translation, repeating “such as” until he decides to start over (Friel 68). On his second time through, his recitation is exactly as it was previously— the same colloquial contractions and aposiopesis employed— but the play ends in an ellipsis just where his memory began to fail him on his first attempt (Friel 68). The final lines are ambiguous for whether Hugh remembered further, whether in his drunken state, the knowledge is temporarily lost.
Unlike Hugh’s intoxicated translation, when an entire language undergoes translation, some of the cultural knowledge is irreversibly lost. When this knowledge is lost, so is a piece of the culture’s identity. Because language carries culture, by translating the language, the culture is consequently translated into a new form. The play’s melodrama reflects the reinterpreted culture after the Ordinance is complete by presenting characters in mundane situations— such as learning to say their name or answering questions in class incorrectly— in absence of complex characterization. However, the plot's action exists during the 1833 Ordinance presenting a tension of cause and effect. The cause is the standardization by encouraging all Gaelic be translated to English. The effect is the cultural knowledge and depth lose because it is forgotten or untranslatable across these languages. When standardizing a language, only what those standardizing the language deems is important— not the community who lives the culture— is translated. As such, the text’s use of English dialogue in place of Gaelic opens comprehension of the work “Translations” to a larger audience. However, by reinterpreting the character’s dialogue to fit English standards, the characterizations of the community too becomes standardized and simplified to fit English expectations. The result is a simplified reflection of historical and cultural knowledge from the perspective of the translation.
Works Cited
Friel, Brian. Translations. Faber and Faber, 1981.
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