Ray McCarthy
Sentient Marmite: The Truth may make you fret.
I dug in to the 1990s archives and found this, 1999 start of a story. There is a different version. On file is a plot summary.
In principle of what @The Judge was saying and @Brain Turner, I'll not offer ANY explinations or excuses. Honest! I'll save all the comments for when I redo this from the start.
I thought I ought to post something for crit for a 2015th post
Except ...
My Daughter did the Irish Dialogue, she's "native fluent". I don't know any Irish. I think I have an idea how to do this better now, but see what you think. The only change I've made since 1999 tonight is a few commas added and hard CR deleted. Lough Gur and the Dolman is real. Google translate will do the Irish for you. (The current new WIP is going nicely, thanks for advice, about 30K words done.). Maybe there is no market for a bilingual book!
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Eilis watched the jackdaws trying to get the crusts from the rook. A hoodie crow landed and they all scattered. The crow clumsily took off with the prize. She turned away from them and looked across the lake to the hill. The thin cropped grass and brambles looked vivid and vibrant with the autumn colours accentuated by the late afternoon sunshine.
She ignored the coarse cries of the ducks and rooks nearby as she shouldered her pack and mounted the bike. As usual she had lost track of time. But perhaps I have a few minutes to spare to look at the dolman beside the road.
Even walking the Dolmen would not have been far from the lake. The carpark just outside the gates had only two cars left. It was later than she had thought. Already the rooks were gathering in the trees
toward the castle ruin.
Nevertheless, though she risked finishing the ride home to Caherconlish in the dark, she stopped a few minutes later at the Dolmen. Too late she realised that she didn't have the antiquity to herself. There was an older middle aged man and a young man or perhaps a teenager. She was about to mount and cycle on again when the American accent assailed her.
"Can you tell us about these rocks, Mzz?" The older man buzzed.
The dark skinned teenager seemed embarrassed and made as if to draw away.
Eilis groaned inwardly. "What do you want to know, then?"
"We wondered what it would have looked like originally," The older man continued. "I'm Frank K. Smith, this is my son Bill. I suppose you'd guess I'm from New Jersey?"
Eilis threw down her pack and sat on it facing the two men who sat on rocks. Silently they all stared at the Dolmen for a while.
"You just come to Ireland?" Eilis asked no-one in particular.
"I arrived from New York yesterday," Frank explained.
"I don't really know ..." Eilis temporized.
"But you do come from around here?" Frank suggested.
"Yes," Eilis replied, "but dolmens are a bit before my time."
"How old are they then?" asked Bill.
"Celtic Stuff," Frank offered.
"A bit older even than that." Eilis explained as she got up and walked round it a bit. "Even in the Golden age of the Bards, in Celtic times the origin of these monuments was lost in the mists of time and legend."
"So how old then." Bill asked impatiently as they followed Eilis.
"Older than Jerusalem, older than the pyramids even."
"Gee," Frank exclaimed.
"Originally, perhaps 6,000 years ago these stones would have been covered over with soil and grass. But some might have been in use over 3,000 years, Eilis explained.
"What as?" Bill asked.
"Well sometimes as burial chambers, sometimes, who knows?" Eilis continued as she walked around. "I must go, it's later than I thought, nearly dark."
Eilis walked across the grass to the road and stopped in puzzlement. It was now nearly dark.
"Anyone got a light, I can't seem to find the road in the dark." She cried out." There must be a storm coming for darkness to fall so quickly!"
Frank and Bill followed her. Just then a cloud moved and suddenly the landscape was lit by silvery light.
"How can the Moon be risen so soon?" Eilis muttered softly.
After a few minutes looking around they sat down on rocks near the Dolmen. The moonlit landscape had no trace of a road, hedge, ditch, bicycle or Eilis's pack.
"Well this is a bummer," Frank commented to no-one in particular. "One minute we are on the road to Lough Gur, the next here."
"I think we are still in the same place." Bill claimed. "We just misplaced the road in the dark."
"You know which way the car park might be?" Frank asked Eilis.
"I don't understand why we can't find the road, though," She complained.
"I can see the hills clear enough in the moonlight. The lake should be over that way."
"Let's go then," Frank suggested. "You lead, and maybe on the way we will find the road. Must be some kind of Halloween joke. I bet your bike is in the car park."
"Not Halloween," Eilis insisted. "Samhain"
"What's sawin?" Bill asked.
"Samhain," Eilis repeated. "An ancient Celtic festival."
"Saw-win," Echoed Frank.
"No, Samhain," Eilis repeated again. "Quiet. I want to think"
They trudged on through the low scrub in single file, Eilis in front and Frank in the rear. They passed through a thin copse and suddenly Eilis stopped. So suddenly Bill nearly bumped into her. Spread out in front was the lake, gentle ripples of silver turning in the slight breeze. The evening seemed warm for the end of October. Further on around the lake to the right there was a faint glow and snatches of noise carried in the wind like a party. Eilis looked over to the hill on the right. Instead of a ruined castle surrounded by mature trees the hillside was bare and the outline of a stone circle gleamed in the full moon.
A man approached them from the direction of the party or barbecue or whatever. He hailed them. But Bill and Frank couldn't make out what he said. If Eilis heard, she made no sign. She stood staring toward the hill with the Stone Circle. The man seems roughly dressed Frank thought.
Now less than a few feet away he spoke again.
This time Eilis turned and answered: "Bi ag caint nios moille. Nilim abalta thu a thuiscint!"
In turn the stranger seemed puzzled, and repeated himself much more slowly and clearly. "Cad is anim diobh? Car as a thainig sibh? Cad 'ta sibh a ndeanamh anseo?
Eilis pointed to herself and said "Mise Eilis," then pointed to the others in turn saying "Bill, Frank," Then she said "Fan noimeid!"
Turning to the Bill and Frank she said "I don't quite know how to handle this. He wants to know who we are and why we are here."
"Tell him we are here because we're lost!" Frank offered.
"He also wants to know where we are from," Eilis continued, "I have a kind of idea that might be harder."
Eilis turned again to the stranger "Chailleamar ar shli."
The stranger studied them for a moment and then barked "B'eigean diobh teacht liom!
Eilis motioned to the others to follow. "He orders us to come with him."
It was brighter along the path with the moonlight reflected from the lake. As they got closer to the glow and the noise they saw it was a small village inside a palisade.
"An bhfuil namhaid agat?" Eilis enquired
The stranger stopped and stared at her, then shook his head. "Nil, coimeideann an fal na hainmhithe fiaine amach."
Bill nudged her, "What's that about?"
"The fence is to keep out wild animals, not enemies," She replied.
The village was inside a palisade or fence of stakes on top of a dyke.
From the entrance Eilis could see seven or eight structures, houses or huts with thatched roofs and adobe or mud plastered walls. As they passed the nearest, she saw the walls were of wattle construction and smoke issued from a hole in the centre of the roof. A clear area in the middle had a communal cooking area and a well. To the left she saw a large pen with goats. Hens dotted the open space pecking at this and that. To the right some skins were stretched over poles, presumably drying or curing.
--------
In principle of what @The Judge was saying and @Brain Turner, I'll not offer ANY explinations or excuses. Honest! I'll save all the comments for when I redo this from the start.
I thought I ought to post something for crit for a 2015th post
Except ...
My Daughter did the Irish Dialogue, she's "native fluent". I don't know any Irish. I think I have an idea how to do this better now, but see what you think. The only change I've made since 1999 tonight is a few commas added and hard CR deleted. Lough Gur and the Dolman is real. Google translate will do the Irish for you. (The current new WIP is going nicely, thanks for advice, about 30K words done.). Maybe there is no market for a bilingual book!
--------------------
Eilis watched the jackdaws trying to get the crusts from the rook. A hoodie crow landed and they all scattered. The crow clumsily took off with the prize. She turned away from them and looked across the lake to the hill. The thin cropped grass and brambles looked vivid and vibrant with the autumn colours accentuated by the late afternoon sunshine.
She ignored the coarse cries of the ducks and rooks nearby as she shouldered her pack and mounted the bike. As usual she had lost track of time. But perhaps I have a few minutes to spare to look at the dolman beside the road.
Even walking the Dolmen would not have been far from the lake. The carpark just outside the gates had only two cars left. It was later than she had thought. Already the rooks were gathering in the trees
toward the castle ruin.
Nevertheless, though she risked finishing the ride home to Caherconlish in the dark, she stopped a few minutes later at the Dolmen. Too late she realised that she didn't have the antiquity to herself. There was an older middle aged man and a young man or perhaps a teenager. She was about to mount and cycle on again when the American accent assailed her.
"Can you tell us about these rocks, Mzz?" The older man buzzed.
The dark skinned teenager seemed embarrassed and made as if to draw away.
Eilis groaned inwardly. "What do you want to know, then?"
"We wondered what it would have looked like originally," The older man continued. "I'm Frank K. Smith, this is my son Bill. I suppose you'd guess I'm from New Jersey?"
Eilis threw down her pack and sat on it facing the two men who sat on rocks. Silently they all stared at the Dolmen for a while.
"You just come to Ireland?" Eilis asked no-one in particular.
"I arrived from New York yesterday," Frank explained.
"I don't really know ..." Eilis temporized.
"But you do come from around here?" Frank suggested.
"Yes," Eilis replied, "but dolmens are a bit before my time."
"How old are they then?" asked Bill.
"Celtic Stuff," Frank offered.
"A bit older even than that." Eilis explained as she got up and walked round it a bit. "Even in the Golden age of the Bards, in Celtic times the origin of these monuments was lost in the mists of time and legend."
"So how old then." Bill asked impatiently as they followed Eilis.
"Older than Jerusalem, older than the pyramids even."
"Gee," Frank exclaimed.
"Originally, perhaps 6,000 years ago these stones would have been covered over with soil and grass. But some might have been in use over 3,000 years, Eilis explained.
"What as?" Bill asked.
"Well sometimes as burial chambers, sometimes, who knows?" Eilis continued as she walked around. "I must go, it's later than I thought, nearly dark."
Eilis walked across the grass to the road and stopped in puzzlement. It was now nearly dark.
"Anyone got a light, I can't seem to find the road in the dark." She cried out." There must be a storm coming for darkness to fall so quickly!"
Frank and Bill followed her. Just then a cloud moved and suddenly the landscape was lit by silvery light.
"How can the Moon be risen so soon?" Eilis muttered softly.
After a few minutes looking around they sat down on rocks near the Dolmen. The moonlit landscape had no trace of a road, hedge, ditch, bicycle or Eilis's pack.
"Well this is a bummer," Frank commented to no-one in particular. "One minute we are on the road to Lough Gur, the next here."
"I think we are still in the same place." Bill claimed. "We just misplaced the road in the dark."
"You know which way the car park might be?" Frank asked Eilis.
"I don't understand why we can't find the road, though," She complained.
"I can see the hills clear enough in the moonlight. The lake should be over that way."
"Let's go then," Frank suggested. "You lead, and maybe on the way we will find the road. Must be some kind of Halloween joke. I bet your bike is in the car park."
"Not Halloween," Eilis insisted. "Samhain"
"What's sawin?" Bill asked.
"Samhain," Eilis repeated. "An ancient Celtic festival."
"Saw-win," Echoed Frank.
"No, Samhain," Eilis repeated again. "Quiet. I want to think"
They trudged on through the low scrub in single file, Eilis in front and Frank in the rear. They passed through a thin copse and suddenly Eilis stopped. So suddenly Bill nearly bumped into her. Spread out in front was the lake, gentle ripples of silver turning in the slight breeze. The evening seemed warm for the end of October. Further on around the lake to the right there was a faint glow and snatches of noise carried in the wind like a party. Eilis looked over to the hill on the right. Instead of a ruined castle surrounded by mature trees the hillside was bare and the outline of a stone circle gleamed in the full moon.
A man approached them from the direction of the party or barbecue or whatever. He hailed them. But Bill and Frank couldn't make out what he said. If Eilis heard, she made no sign. She stood staring toward the hill with the Stone Circle. The man seems roughly dressed Frank thought.
Now less than a few feet away he spoke again.
This time Eilis turned and answered: "Bi ag caint nios moille. Nilim abalta thu a thuiscint!"
In turn the stranger seemed puzzled, and repeated himself much more slowly and clearly. "Cad is anim diobh? Car as a thainig sibh? Cad 'ta sibh a ndeanamh anseo?
Eilis pointed to herself and said "Mise Eilis," then pointed to the others in turn saying "Bill, Frank," Then she said "Fan noimeid!"
Turning to the Bill and Frank she said "I don't quite know how to handle this. He wants to know who we are and why we are here."
"Tell him we are here because we're lost!" Frank offered.
"He also wants to know where we are from," Eilis continued, "I have a kind of idea that might be harder."
Eilis turned again to the stranger "Chailleamar ar shli."
The stranger studied them for a moment and then barked "B'eigean diobh teacht liom!
Eilis motioned to the others to follow. "He orders us to come with him."
It was brighter along the path with the moonlight reflected from the lake. As they got closer to the glow and the noise they saw it was a small village inside a palisade.
"An bhfuil namhaid agat?" Eilis enquired
The stranger stopped and stared at her, then shook his head. "Nil, coimeideann an fal na hainmhithe fiaine amach."
Bill nudged her, "What's that about?"
"The fence is to keep out wild animals, not enemies," She replied.
The village was inside a palisade or fence of stakes on top of a dyke.
From the entrance Eilis could see seven or eight structures, houses or huts with thatched roofs and adobe or mud plastered walls. As they passed the nearest, she saw the walls were of wattle construction and smoke issued from a hole in the centre of the roof. A clear area in the middle had a communal cooking area and a well. To the left she saw a large pen with goats. Hens dotted the open space pecking at this and that. To the right some skins were stretched over poles, presumably drying or curing.
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