by Julia London
His father seemed to sense his confusion. “Aye,” he said, his gaze still on the sea. “I’m no’ verra accomplished with saying the things that matter, or so your mother tells me. But I’m bloody well proud of you and I’ve always been.” He shifted his gaze to Aulay. “Always. You were my thinker, aye? My adventurer. Forgive me if I didna say it—”
Aulay’s heart lurched. “No forgiveness is necessary,” he said, and put his arm around his father’s shoulders. “Tapadh leat,” he said simply. Thank you. Two simple words that could not convey the true depth of his feeling, but said with all sincerity from the bottom of his heart.
Aulay looked again at his wife and son. An hour ago, he would have sworn it was impossible to be any happier than he was. He was beginning to think that happiness was a bottomless well, and if he weren’t careful, he’d drink so much from it that he would burst.
* * * * *
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
Twenty years ago, on one of my first trips to Scotland, I picked up Everyday Gaelic by Morag MacNeill, in addition to some linguistic texts and a Gaelic-English dictionary. What I learned from those purchases is that Scottish Gaelic is not for everyday use. I don’t know how anyone but a native speaker could ever become proficient—it’s a tough language. But that hasn’t stopped me from sprinkling Scottish Gaelic terms and phrases throughout my manuscripts like a boss. While I’ve tried to be accurate with gender and grammar, I’m no expert. So please take the instances where I use Scottish Gaelic with the grain of rock salt it deserves. Pronounce the words as you see fit because I don’t know how to say them, either. My apologies to Scottish Gaelic speakers everywhere.
In this book, I also used some Danish. The same caveats apply, but should perhaps be viewed with even more skepticism, because I—brace yourself—used the internet and Google Translate. My sincere apologies to the Danish speakers among us, too. Without further ado, a glossary:
Danish:
God nat: good night.
Hun er Dansk: she is Danish.
Hvem: who.
Ja: yes.
Ja meget smuk: very beautiful.
Kvinde: woman.
Mor: mother.
Pige: girl. One source claims it is used as a term of endearment, like lass.
Pusling: a term of endearment, like pookie pie.
Sankt Hans: Midsummer’s Eve, the Danish celebration of the summer solstice.
Skål: cheers.
Søde: sweet. One source claims it is sometimes used as a term of endearment.
Todlforvatning: this is the closest I could get to Customs House.
French:
Tout de suite: at once, immediately. My grandmother used to tell us to clean our rooms “toot sweet.”
Scottish Gaelic:
An deamhan thu ag ràdh: the devil says.
Athair/màither: father/mother.
Bod an donais: damn it. Not a literal translation.
Bòidheach: beautiful.
Diah/mi Diah: God/my God.
Diah/ dè an diabhal: God of/what the devil.
Fàilte/Fàilte dhachlaigh: welcome/welcome home.
Feill: feast, festival.
Feasgar math: good afternoon.
Gun déid leat: good luck.
Leannan: sweetheart.
Madainn mhath: good morning.
Mo chridhe: my heart.
Slàinte mhath: cheers.
Tapadh leat: thank you.
Tha gaol agam ort: I love you.
Tha thu breagha: you are beautiful/pretty.
Uist: hush.
AUTHOR NOTE
About those rabbits... I ran across some accounts of how the Isle of Canna, a small island near Lismore Island off the coast of Scotland, had a significant rabbit infestation a few years ago. Fifteen thousand rabbits overran that sparsely populated island, eating everything in sight, burrowing to such an extent that they caused a mudslide over the main road, and even unearthing some human remains in the cemetery. They were mostly eradicated, so if you dined on rabbit in France about eight years ago, it might have been one from the Isle of Canna. Google it!
While the real problem for Canna was neither amusing nor cute, I borrowed the rabbit infestation to add a little flavor to my fictional depiction of Lismore Island.
For the record, the North Sea was known as the German Ocean by most in Europe in 1752, and was called that by many until the late 1800s. I used the term North Sea in this novel to avoid pulling readers out of the story to wonder about an unfamiliar ocean.
ISBN-13: 9781488078989
Devil in Tartan
Copyright © 2018 by Dinah Dinwiddie
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