{"id":1158,"date":"2011-08-14T22:45:05","date_gmt":"2011-08-14T22:45:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/?p=1158"},"modified":"2015-12-29T21:57:55","modified_gmt":"2015-12-29T21:57:55","slug":"tuis-frainclini-agus-saincheadunais-a-thiarcais","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/tuis-frainclini-agus-saincheadunais-a-thiarcais\/","title":{"rendered":"T\u00fais, Fraincl\u00edn\u00ed, agus Sainchead\u00fanais, A Thiarcais!"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>(le R\u00f3isl\u00edn)<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Actually, it is the English versions of these three words that offer the alliteration, which gives the phrase a slightly literary twist.\u00a0 That in turns tempts me to end <strong>teideal an bhlag seo<\/strong> with the interjection \u201c<strong>a thiarcais<\/strong>.\u201d\u00a0 So, the title of this blog translates into English as \u201cFrankincense, Franklins, and Franchises, Oh My!\u201d Can\u2019t resist that \u201cOh, My!\u201d ending when listing things in threes, thank to the indelible imprint of Arlen and Harburg <strong>(\u201cLeoin, T\u00edogair, agus B\u00e9ir, A Thiarcais,\u201d<\/strong> if I may be so bold)<\/p>\n<p>What do \u201cfrankincense,\u201d \u201cfranklin,\u201d and \u201cfranchise\u201d have in common?\u00a0 In English, they derive from the Late Latin \u201c<em>francus<\/em>,\u201d which meant both \u201ca Frankish person\u201d and \u201cfree\u201d, with the extended meanings of \u201copen,\u201d \u201ccandid,\u201d \u201csincere,\u201d and \u201cpure.\u201d\u00a0 And how does this pan out in Irish?\u00a0 <strong>Baint ar bith acu leis an bhfocal Laidine sin <\/strong>\u201c<em>francus<\/em>?\u00a0 <strong>Uaim ar bith i dt\u00fas na bhfocal (\u00e1it a mb\u00edonn \u201cuaim,\u201d ar nd\u00f3igh).\u00a0 <\/strong>.<\/p>\n<p><strong>1. T\u00fais<\/strong> [toosh]<\/p>\n<p><strong>Ar dt\u00fas, pl\u00e9ifidh muid an focal \u201ct\u00fais\u201d <\/strong>(frankincense).\u00a0 In case that was at all ambiguous, the first phrase \u201c<strong>ar dt\u00fas,\u201d<\/strong> comes from \u201c<strong>t\u00fas<\/strong>\u201d <strong>(firinscneach<\/strong>, 1st declension) a completely different Irish word meaning \u201cbeginning, start.\u201d\u00a0 Anyway, first we\u2019ll discuss the word \u201c<strong>t\u00fais<\/strong>\u201d (<strong>bainsncneach<\/strong>, 2nd declension).<\/p>\n<p>Here, the Irish is clearly related to the Latin word for incense, \u201c<em>th<\/em><em>\u016bs<\/em>,\u201d which you may also recognize from \u201cthurible,\u201d the device for carrying incense, which in turns comes from the <strong>tuiseal ginideach<\/strong> of this word in Latin, \u201c<em>th<\/em><em>\u016bris\u201d<\/em>. A reminder how helpful it is to fully understand the <strong>tuiseal ginideach<\/strong>, not just for Irish, but for Latin too, and sometimes for Latin-derived Irish words.<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<strong>T\u00fais<\/strong>\u201d means both \u201cfrankincense\u201d and \u201cincense\u201d in Irish.\u00a0 As a child, I never thought that much about what the \u201cfrank\u201d part of \u201cfrankincense\u201d was all about.\u00a0 It was just part of the phrase, and about the only context I knew for discussing frankincense was the reference to the gifts of frankincense, gold, and myrrh in the Bible.\u00a0 Eventually, the <strong>focl\u00f3ir sanasa\u00edochta<\/strong> beckoned, and I looked it up.\u00a0 The \u201cfrank-\u201c part of the English word means \u201cpure,\u201d so, centuries ago \u201c<em>franke ensens<\/em>\u201d meant \u201cpure incense\u201d and eventually it became one word, \u201cfrankincense.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Now, how incense can be impure?\u00a0 <strong>Sin ceist nach bhfuil an freagra di agam<\/strong>.\u00a0 Or more succinctly said,<\/p>\n<p><strong>Diabhal a fhios agam!\u00a0 <\/strong>Maybe if some filler is added, like sawdust, which burns but isn\u2019t fragrant.\u00a0 <strong>Eolas ag duine ar bith?<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>2. Fraincl\u00edn\u00ed <\/strong>[FRANK-leen-ee]<\/p>\n<p>The word \u201cfranklin\u201d is more well known as a name these days, rather than as a term designating social status.\u00a0 In the emerging middle class of the late Middle Ages, however, it meant \u201cnon-noble freeholder.\u201d \u00a0It was originally spelled \u201c<em>frankeleyn<\/em>,\u201d from \u201c<em>francus\u201d<\/em> (free, Frank).<\/p>\n<p>The surname exists in Irish, as \u201c<strong>Fraincl\u00edn<\/strong>,\u201d but in my experience, it\u2019s not that widely encountered.\u00a0 It was found in 13<sup>th<\/sup>-century Dublin, and, in modern times, it is centered in Limerick and Tipperary.\u00a0 I have to acknowledge that I find no references to \u201c<strong>fraincl\u00edn\u00ed<\/strong>,\u201d as a social class, in modern Irish, but I assume that to refer to them, we\u2019d use the same form found as a surname.\u00a0 If only I had Chaucer in Irish, I could check out what the translator used for \u201c<strong>Sc\u00e9al an Fhraincl\u00edn<\/strong>,\u201d but unfortunately, I can\u2019t find any Irish translations of Chaucer!<\/p>\n<p>As for some other \u201cFrank-derived\u201d names, the given names \u201cFrancis\u201d (male) and \u201cFrances\u201d (female) \u00a0are widely used in Irish, as <strong>Proinsias<\/strong> and <strong>Proins\u00e9as<\/strong> respectively.<\/p>\n<p>One small pointer about the name \u201c<strong>Proinsias<\/strong>\u201d \u2013 it\u2019s one of the few men\u2019s names in Irish that doesn\u2019t get slenderized at the end in direct address or when possessive.\u00a0 In other words, we say,<\/p>\n<p><strong>A Phroinsias<\/strong> [uh FRIN-shuss], Francis! (to greet Francis, using <strong>an tuiseal gairmeach<\/strong>) and<\/p>\n<p><strong>c\u00f3ta Phroinsias<\/strong>, the coat of Francis <strong>(an tuiseal ginideach)<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>That would be in contrast to other men\u2019s names that end in \u201c\u2013<strong>as<\/strong>,\u201d like <strong>Tom\u00e1s<\/strong> or <strong>S\u00e9amas<\/strong>, for which we slenderize the ending (adding an \u201c-i-\u201c before the final \u201cs\u201d), giving us phrases like \u201c<strong>Dia dhuit, a Thom\u00e1is<\/strong>\u201d [\u2026 uh HOM-awsh] and \u201c<strong>c\u00f3ta Sh\u00e9amais<\/strong>\u201d [\u2026 HAY-mish].<\/p>\n<p>Another way to look at the difference between the names \u201c<strong>Proinsias<\/strong>,\u201d \u201c<strong>Tom\u00e1s<\/strong>,\u201d and \u201c<strong>S\u00e9amas<\/strong>,\u201d is in terms of our old friends, <strong>na d\u00edochlaonta\u00ed<\/strong> (the declensions).\u00a0 Yes, personal names also belong to declensions in Irish, just like generic nouns (box, table, etc.) do.\u00a0 So <strong>Proinsias<\/strong> is <strong>\u201cfir4\u201d<\/strong> (4<sup>th<\/sup>-declension, masculine, with \u201c<strong>fir<\/strong>\u201d for <strong>firinscneach;<\/strong> or \u201cm4,\u201d for the English abbreviation) while <strong>Tom\u00e1s<\/strong> and <strong>S\u00e9amas<\/strong> are \u201c<strong>fir1\u201d<\/strong> (m1, 1st-declension masculine).\u00a0 Plenty more could be written on the declensions of personal names in Irish, but for now, that will have to be added to the <strong>riar\u00e1iste<\/strong> of <strong>\u00e1bhair do bhlaganna eile<\/strong>.<\/p>\n<p><strong>3. Sainchead\u00fanais [SAN-H<sup>y<\/sup>AD-oon-ish]<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The English word, \u201cfranchise,\u201d is also derived from \u201c<em>francus\u201d<\/em> (free, Frank).\u00a0 The original meaning of \u201cfranchise\u201d is the \u201cright to vote,\u201d since the origin of the word (<em>francus<\/em>) implied \u201cfreedom.\u201d\u00a0 In Irish, \u201cright to vote\u201d would be, quite straightforwardly, \u201c<strong>ceart v\u00f3t\u00e1la<\/strong>.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 Why \u201c<strong>v\u00f3t\u00e1la<\/strong>\u201d and not \u201c<strong>v\u00f3t\u00e1il<\/strong>,\u201d the latter being the form you\u2019d probably find listed in the dictionary? \u00a0<strong>Tuiseal ginideach<\/strong>.\u00a0 \u201c<strong>Ceart v\u00f3t\u00e1la<\/strong>\u201d literally means \u201cright of voting.\u201d\u00a0 Irish doesn\u2019t use a word that literally means \u201cof\u201d in phrases like this \u2013 it uses <strong>an tuiseal ginideach<\/strong>, with a change to the ending of \u201c<strong>v\u00f3t\u00e1il<\/strong>\u201d to indicate \u201cof voting.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>These days, we tend to use the word \u201cfranchise\u201d largely in discussing commerce, referring to individually run shops which are part of a larger enterprise, like Subway or McDonald\u2019s.\u00a0 In these cases, the parent company grants the right to others to sell its products, so <strong>cearta<\/strong> (rights) are still involved, just in a very different context.\u00a0 That explains the Irish word \u201c<strong>sainchead\u00fanas,<\/strong>\u201d a compound word, consisting of \u201c<strong>sain<\/strong>-\u201c (special, particular) and \u201c<strong>cead\u00fanas\u201d<\/strong> (license).<\/p>\n<p><strong>4. A Thiarcais <\/strong>[uh HEER-kish]<\/p>\n<p>As to why, \u201c<strong>A Thiarcais<\/strong>,\u201d at the end of this blog\u2019s title?\u00a0 Just \u201c<strong>le haghaidh an chraic<\/strong>,\u201d really.\u00a0 \u201c<strong>A thiarcais<\/strong>\u201d can be translated variously as \u201cOh, my!,\u201d \u201cDear, dear!,\u201d or \u201cMy goodness!,\u201d or in an extended sense, \u201cBless my soul!\u201d\u00a0 As I said above, I find it hard to resist \u201coh-my-ing\u201d threesomes when they occur in titles.\u00a0 Even in Irish!<\/p>\n<p><strong>Aguis\u00edn: An Focal <\/strong>\u201cfrankly\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And finally, let\u2019s look at one last word that might seem to be related to this discussion, \u201cfrankly,\u201d\u00a0 In English, yes, the \u201cfrank\u201d part of \u201cfrankly\u201d implies openness and sincerity, as in \u201c\u2019This hot dog is terrible,\u2019 said Tom frankly.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>However this connotation doesn\u2019t seem to have carried over into Irish, where the typical close equivalents to \u201cfrankly,\u201d are \u201c<strong>leis an fh\u00edrinne a r\u00e1<\/strong>\u201d (to tell the truth), \u201c<strong>d\u00e9anta na f\u00edrinne<\/strong>\u201d (the truth \u201cdone\u201d), \u201c<strong>go hoscailte<\/strong>\u201d (openly), or \u201c<strong>gan cor a chur sa<\/strong> <strong>sc\u00e9al\u201d<\/strong> (lit. without putting a twist in the story).\u00a0 In other words, speaking \u201cfrankly\u201d in Irish doesn\u2019t borrow from Latin or invoke the Frankish people themselves.<\/p>\n<p>And speaking of \u201cfrankly,\u201d sorry, Rhett, your famous retort doesn\u2019t have quite the same panache when translated into Irish, imho.\u00a0 In Irish, he could say <strong>\u201cLeis an fh\u00edrinne a r\u00e1, a thaisce, is cuma liom sa diabhal!\u201d<\/strong>\u00a0 If he spoke <strong>Gaeilge Uladh<\/strong>, he would likely have used, \u201c<strong>Leis an fh\u00edrinne a dh\u00e9anamh<\/strong>,\u201d instead of \u201c<strong>leis an fh\u00edrinne a r\u00e1<\/strong>,\u201d but as the illogical saying goes, \u201csame diff.\u201d \u00a0Too many words and too many syllables for panache, at least when compared to the nearly metrical English, \u201c<em>Frank<\/em>ly, my <em>dear<\/em>, I <em>don\u2019t<\/em> give a <em>damn<\/em>!\u201d (<strong>beagnach tr\u00f3caech, m\u00e1s cuimhin liom na t\u00e9arma\u00ed scanta i gceart<\/strong>).<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<strong>Is cuma liom sa diabhal<\/strong>\u201d is still a great expletive, approximately like saying \u201cDivil a bit do I care!,\u201d lit. It\u2019s indifferent with me in the devil), and, afaik, considered inoffensive in Irish.<\/p>\n<p>Maybe we could adjust Mr. Butler\u2019s \u201cRhettoric\u201d and give him a nice traditional Irish expression, \u201c<strong>Is cuma liom agam n\u00f3 uaim th\u00fa<\/strong>!\u201d (I don\u2019t care if I have you or not).\u00a0 Literally, of course, that\u2019s more like saying \u201cIt\u2019s indifferent with me (whether) you (are) at me or from me!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0 And it wouldn\u2019t exactly respond to Scarlett\u2019s classic query, \u201cWhere shall I go! What shall I do?\u201d\u00a0 But I think it would suit the context reasonably well.\u00a0 At any rate, he would certainly be speaking his mind, something he never shirked from doing, <strong>fad mo chuimhne<\/strong>.<\/p>\n<p>Come to think of it, I guess with \u201cButler\u201d heritage, Rhett might well have been of Irish descent, so perhaps one of his <strong>sinsir<\/strong> would have spoken Irish.\u00a0 Certainly we can assume someone in the O\u2019Hara lineage would have, and probably also someone in the ancestry of the original <em>Gone with the Wind<\/em> author herself, Margaret Mitchell.<\/p>\n<p>So of our three \u201cfrank-\u201d terms in English, only one, \u201c<strong>fraincl\u00edn<\/strong>,\u201d admittedly not widely used in modern Irish, actually retains the \u201c<em>francus<\/em>\u201d element.\u00a0 C\u2019est la vie! &lt;insert <strong>croitheadh guaill\u00ed \u201cGailleach,\u201d n\u00f3 \u201cFrancach\u201d m\u00e1s fearr leat<\/strong>, for which I now wish there were a convenient emoticon \u2013 but come to think of it, I don\u2019t recall any emoticons with shoulders that can be shrugged, so \u201c<em>Bof<\/em>!\u201d <strong>mar a deirtear sa Fhraincis<\/strong>&gt;<\/p>\n<p>On that note, and with plenty of <strong>bia<\/strong> for future <strong>smaoineamh<\/strong> (.i.e. <strong>\u00e1bhair go leor ar intinn agam do bhlaganna eile), SGF \u00f3 R\u00f3isl\u00edn<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>gluais: croitheadh guaill\u00ed, <\/strong>shrugging of shoulders; <strong>Gailleach<\/strong>, Gallic; <strong>gairmeach<\/strong>, vocative, i.e. \u201ccalling\u201d (cf. <strong>gairm<\/strong>, a calling, vocation, in the religious or employment sense); <strong>mar a deirtear<\/strong>, as is said; <strong>riar\u00e1iste<\/strong>, backlog; <strong>sanasa\u00edocht<\/strong>, etymology;<strong> scanadh<\/strong>, scansion;<strong> tr\u00f3caech<\/strong>, trochaic; <strong>uaim<\/strong> (noun), alliteration; <strong>uaim<\/strong> (preposition) from me<\/p>\n<p><strong>N\u00f3ta<\/strong> (possible topic for future consideration): in Irish, should \u201cGallic shrug\u201d be called \u201c<strong>Gailleach<\/strong>\u201d (Gallic, but also Gaulish) or \u201c<strong>Francach<\/strong>\u201d (to avoid ambiguity with the ancient Gauls).\u00a0 As you may recall, \u201c<strong>Francachas<\/strong>\u201d is \u201cGallicism,\u201d so maybe it\u2019s best to stick to \u201c<strong>croitheadh guaill\u00ed Francach<\/strong>.\u201d\u00a0 But then we lose that nice <strong>beag\u00e1in\u00edn uama<\/strong> (bit of alluring alliteration, <strong>guaill\u00ed <\/strong>with <strong>Gailleach<\/strong>). Hmmm!\u00a0 And is a \u201cFrench shrug\u201d different from a \u201cGallic shrug\u201d? <strong>Smaointe<\/strong>?\u00a0 And of course, I can\u2019t find any definitive answer for this query!\u00a0 In fact, I can\u2019t find any commentary in Irish about it at all.\u00a0 Or even anything definitive in French, for that matter \u2013- just a lot of debate back and forth about the term, between English and French speakers, which even with my <strong>Fraincis mheirgeach<\/strong>, I see leads to lots of commentary and discussion, but no specific dictionary-style entry in French.\u00a0 <strong>A Fhrancacha\u00ed?<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>(le R\u00f3isl\u00edn) Actually, it is the English versions of these three words that offer the alliteration, which gives the phrase a slightly literary twist.\u00a0 That in turns tempts me to end teideal an bhlag seo with the interjection \u201ca thiarcais.\u201d\u00a0 So, the title of this blog translates into English as \u201cFrankincense, Franklins, and Franchises, Oh&hellip;<\/p>\n<p class=\"post-item__readmore\"><a class=\"btn btn--md\" href=\"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/tuis-frainclini-agus-saincheadunais-a-thiarcais\/\">Continue Reading<\/a><\/p>","protected":false},"author":36,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"content-type":""},"categories":[3898],"tags":[96563,96565,96561,96570,96574,96575,96568,96569,96571,96572,96567,96577,96576,96562,96566,96573,96560,96564],"class_list":["post-1158","post","type-post","status-publish","hentry","category-irish-language","tag-a-thiarcais","tag-frainclin","tag-frainclini","tag-franchise","tag-francus","tag-frank","tag-frankincense","tag-franklin","tag-frankly","tag-oh-dear","tag-oh-my","tag-proinseas","tag-proinsias","tag-saincheadunais","tag-saincheadunas","tag-tom-swifties","tag-tuis","tag-tuise"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1158","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/36"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1158"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1158\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":7467,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1158\/revisions\/7467"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1158"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1158"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.transparent.com\/irish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1158"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}