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35 pages 1 hour read

Brian Friel

Translations

Fiction | Play | Adult | Published in 1981

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Themes

The Loss (and Recovery) of Meaning in Translation

In the aptly-titled Translations, Friel uses the translation process to expose the ideological barriers between speakers of English and Irish. Though the play is (mostly) written in English and the actors speak English onstage, it is implied that the English- and Irish-speaking characters speak in their respective native tongues. Onstage, the characters are unable to understand each other if one is Irish and the other English (with the notable exception of Hugh and Owen, who are multi-lingual). By failing (or refusing) to learn each other’s languages, the Irish and English widen the cultural barrier that exists between them.

As someone who has already lived through multiple decades of conflict, Hugh is acutely aware of this cultural divide between the Irish and British. For this reason, the theme of preserving one’s heritage in language reoccurs in Hugh’s Irish and Latin lessons, as with the phrase he assigns from the Agricola in Act I: “It’s easier to stamp out learning than to recall it” (15). Though capable of speaking English, he often refuses to translate his words for the benefit of the British soldiers, leaving this work for Owen (whom he appears to view, initially, as a traitor to his homeland). When he does translate his words into English, he remarks that the translation sounds “plebeian” (49) and diminishes the impact of his language. He disdains British literature in favor of “the warm Mediterranean” (50), identifying his struggles as an Irishman with those of tribes living under Roman rule (which is itself a kind of “translation” process). When Lieutenant Yolland extols the merits of Irish language, Hugh explains that they preserve their language (and refuse to translate it into English) because it is all they have: “A rich language. A rich literature. You’ll find, sir, that certain cultures expend on their vocabularies and syntax acquisitive energies and ostentations entirely lacking in their material lives” (51).

Conversely, Owen uses his skills as an Irish-English translator to improve the material conditions of his life, earning money from the British army for his role in communicating with the locals and anglicizing the names on Ordinance Survey maps. Ironically, his British colleague, Lieutenant Yolland, feels more strongly than he does about preserving the legacy of Irish place names in the translation process. Owen defends his ambivalence by explaining just how convoluted the etymologies of these place names really are, using the example of Tobair Vree: the name for a crossroads that derives “Tobair” from a man named Brian, who fell in a well many years ago and has long-since been forgotten (53). Owen thus (initially) approaches language as a simple system that can be remorselessly used to one’s advantage, optimistically telling Yolland that he can learn to “decode” (48) Irish culture. Indeed, he helps to close the barrier between Yolland and Maire with his translation, and they transition from strangers who wave to one another from “across the fields” (59) to romantic partners who discover their own language between their spoken words.

Language and Progress

Language is also addressed as a vehicle for potential change and progress (or stagnation). As someone who cleaves to tradition, Hugh is initially resistant toward the development of the national school, though he knows he will ultimately need to incorporate English into his curriculum. When Maire discusses the words of the progressive but controversial politician Daniel O’Connell—“The old language is a barrier to modern progress” (25)—Hugh is dismissive, reluctant to accept what he seemingly already understands: in order to establish Ireland’s national identity in a modern society, the Irish must learn to communicate in English. 

Of all the characters in Translations, Maire and Yolland are arguably the most successful at traversing the language barrier. Though they may not understand many of the words in each other’s languages, their patience and shared sense of wonder enable them to communicate. For example, when Maire recites the only English phrase she knows—but doesn’t really understand—about the maypole in Norfolk, Yolland explains his connection to the town and communicates with Maire by showing her English locations on a map (65). Much of their conversation—and learning—takes place in between spoken language, suggesting that sometimes, a shared desire to connect can allow people to transcend language and cultural barriers. Friel’s play, however, assumes a complex and ambivalent stance toward this transcendence, insinuating that even when and if it is possible, it is oftentimes—unfortunately—ephemeral. As Maire reflects in Act III, “It didn’t last long, did it?” (78).

Act III brings an even more complex ideological transition for Hugh and Owen, who appear to have reversed their positions on Irish-to-English translation. In the wake of the British army’s threat to Baile Beag, Owen expresses remorse for his role in creating the imperialist maps and seeks to atone by leaving (most likely to join the Irish resistance). Hugh, however, appears to recognize that an important form of communication has occurred between Yolland and Owen in the creation of the maps and the Name Book. Hugh upholds the Name Book as a symbol for progress, stating that the villagers “must learn those new names” (88).

History Repeats Itself

Translations is filled with echoes and repetitions that emphasize the change that has taken place over the course of the play (from Act I to Act III). To name but a few: there is the repeated reference to a new baby of questionable lineage (who is baptized by Hugh in Act I, and passes away in Act III), the repeated references to an ominous “sweet smell” in the fields (written off as superstition in Act I, then again written off as the smell of the burning British encampment in Act III), Sarah’s repeated pronunciation of her name (which rings with hope in Act I and resonates with more complex feeling in Act III), and Jimmy Jack’s repeated gesture toward Athene’s flashing eyes. 

These many repetitions generate the sensation that history repeats itself and that these characters are caught in continuous cycles of change that nevertheless come back to the same beginnings, over and over again. When the British threaten to burn the village if Yolland is not found, Doalty explains that they will probably burn the village no matter what happens because when his grandfather was a child, they did the same thing. In a similar recollection, Hugh and Jimmy wax nostalgic about their march to another town, where they hoped to join a different rebellion years and years ago. The play culminates with Hugh’s recitation from the Aeneid—a text which bespeaks the theme of repeated history—which he must repeat due to his faulty, drunken memory. 

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By Brian Friel