Literature of the Gaelic Landscape. John Murray

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      Published by

      Whittles Publishing Ltd.,

      Dunbeath,

      Caithness, KW6 6EG,

      Scotland, UK

       www.whittlespublishing.com

      © 2017 John Murray/ Iain Moireach

      All rights reserved.

      No part of this publication may be reproduced,

      stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted,

      in any form or by any means, electronic,

      mechanical, recording or otherwise

      without prior permission of the publishers.

      ISBN 978-184995-363-4

      Printed by Short Run Press Ltd., Exeter

      CONTENTS

       Acknowledegments

       Prologue

       Introduction

       CHAPTER 1: Place, Place-naming and Stories

       CHAPTER 2: Places, Mapping and Wayfinding

       CHAPTER 3: Toponymy, Mnemonics and Topo-mnemonics

       CHAPTER 4: Landscapes of Finn MacCoul - Fionn mac Chumhaill and the Fianna, Laoidh Fhraoich & Laoidh Dhiarmaid – The Lay of Fraoch and the Lay of Diarmaid

       CHAPTER 5: Donald Mackinlay of the Songs – Dònnchadh mac Fhionnlaigh nan Dàn, Song of the Owl - Òran na Comhachaig

       CHAPTER 6: Duncan Bàn Macintyre - Donnchadh Bàn Mac an t-Saoir, Òran do Ghunna dh’ an ainm Nic Còiseim, Òran do Chaora, Coire Cheathaich, Moladh Beinn Dòbhrain & Cead Deireannach nam Beann – Song to a Gun named NicCoshem, Song to a Sheep, Misty Corrie, Praise of Ben Dorain & Final Farewell to the Bens

       CHAPTER 7: Sorley MacLean - Somhairle Mac ‘ille Eathain, The Cuillin – An Cuilithionn and Hallaig

       CHAPTER 8: Praise of Beinn Dobhrain / Moladh Beinn Dòbhrain and Hallaig compared

       CHAPTER 9: Neil Gunn – Landscape and Light - Butcher’s Broom, The Silver Darlings, Highland River and Young Art and Old Hector

       Conclusion: Staging the Gaelic Landscape

       References cited in the Text

       Index of Place-names cited in the Text

       Biographical Note

       ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

      Many thanks to my wife for helping me along the way. Thanks to Jake King for telling me about an alternative version of the Glen Dochart topo-mnemonic; Neil MacGregor for stories about his own field research and insights into Sorley Maclean’s work; Magnus Course for ethnographic references; Robert Macfarlane for recommending Nan Shepherd’s writing; Ken Wardrop for drawing my attention to the song, Tha Sìor Chaoineadh am Beinn Dóbhrain; Finlay MacLeod for informing me about the older structures of pìobaireachd; Dairmid Gunn for information about his Uncle Neil’s knowledge of Gaelic and permission to use his work; Donald Smith of Traditional Arts and Culture Scotland, and the staff at Whittles Publishing, the Dunbeath Heritage Centre, the University of Edinburgh Library and the National Library of Scotland for help and encouragement. I am grateful to Meg Bateman, Ronald Black, Aonghas MacNeacail, Donald Meek, Pat Menzies and Wilson McLeod for permitting me to quote from their work. Carcanet, Canongate and Faber & Faber are to be thanked for giving copyright consent to use the work of Sorley MacLean, Robert Macfarlane, Nan Shepherd and T. S. Eliot respectively.

      The writing of this book has been supported by research leave and funding from the University of Edinburgh.

      All drawings and photographs are by the author.

       PROLOGUE

      … gach aon ghinealach a dh’fhalbh.

      … every single generation gone.

      (MacLean in Whyte and Dymock, 232-33)

      In a sheltered corner, beneath a small cliff in upper Hallaig, behind the rickle of a ruined house, there is a heap of stones, carefully stacked, one upon another. A pile anyone would rake and gather from the tilth of their plot, as they made ready for spring, and thought about a new sowing. Nothing has been added for over one hundred and fifty years. Nothing has been taken away. The stones have stuck together since then. They were stacked with the same skill with which the low, windowless houses of Hallaig were built. In their constructed, chance contiguity, the stones stand, as mute as mourners witnessing the last rites, and the vacant place before them.

      Spring and the anticipation of summer have gone, like morning dew in waxing sunlight. The stoney evidence of hope and expectation, building every season, is stranded, beached in perpetuity. Seeds, saved from the last, remembered, precious harvest, will never be sown. The last broadcast, catching light, as its sunny yellowness cascades through the air, to settle softly in malleable soil, will never be cast. The folk have gone. Their seed has gone. Stones in their soft green coat of time, remain. Moss thickens.

       INTRODUCTION

      To write is to carve a new territory through the terrain of the imagination … To read is to travel through the terrain with the author as a guide.

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