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September 02 2004, 21:36 PM
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Did anyone here attended secondary school in Éireann? If so did you have to read the leabhar "Peg". M'uncail said it was the worst and most boring book he had ever read. Irish wasn't his strong point and with the book being entirely as Gaeilge he suffered further. I'm just curious if anyone has heard of the book.
-Pádraig An rud a líonas an tsúil líonann sé an croí
Paddy Séafra Ó Tougher |
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September 02 2004, 22:14 PM
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Yes, I've read it. Not exactly a cheery book. It is worth reading, but if you read it because you have to, you probably won't appreciate it as much. Poor Peg is blamed for scaring a generation away from the language.
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September 02 2004, 22:16 PM
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Who's the author?
Ní bheidh Éire shaor ar síocháin choíche, agus gan an ceart, ní féidir an tsíocháin a bheith ann.
Tomás Ó Broin Learning Irish since October 2003 |
September 02 2004, 22:22 PM
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Peg Somebody-or-other  |
September 02 2004, 22:24 PM
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Nice!
 Ní bheidh Éire shaor ar síocháin choíche, agus gan an ceart, ní féidir an tsíocháin a bheith ann.
Tomás Ó Broin Learning Irish since October 2003 |
September 02 2004, 22:28 PM
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are you lads talking about Peig Sayers ?
Is é Christian Stoehr mo chroí
Dáta pósadh: 16 Deireadh Fómhair 2010 |
September 02 2004, 23:13 PM
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that's the lady! poor Peig
 An rud a líonas an tsúil líonann sé an croí
Paddy Séafra Ó Tougher |
September 02 2004, 23:14 PM
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I got one of her books as a present, but as of yet, the Irish is too tough for me
 Is é Christian Stoehr mo chroí
Dáta pósadh: 16 Deireadh Fómhair 2010 |
September 03 2004, 9:30 AM
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We did it in school as well. That and An tOileanach! Lucky me huh!
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September 03 2004, 9:37 AM
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Ochon! Is seanbhean mise anois, le chos amhain san uaigh 'is an eile ar a bhruach...
Memorieees pressed between the pages (all 2 of them) of my miiinddd I didn't have the pleasure of An tOileanach - must get my maulers on him Once, as a child, out in a field of sheep/Thomas Hardy pretended to be dead/And lay down flat among their dainty shins.
In that sniffed-at, bleated-into, grassy space/He experimented with infinity/His small cool brow was like an anvil waiting For sky to make it sing the prefect pitch/Of his dumb being, and that stir he caused/In the fleece-hustle was the original Of a ripple that would travel eighty years/Outward from there, to be the same ripple/Inside him at its last circumference. |
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