Lit- Translations

“It is not the literal past, the ‘facts’ of history, that shape us, but images of the past embodied in language.”

-Hugh

A powerful quote from Hugh that suggests culture precedes and transcends language comes near the end of Translations

This line captures one of Friel’s deepest ideas: that what truly forms identity is not the specific language we speak, but the meanings, stories, and memories that language carries. Even if a language is lost or replaced, the cultural essence—what people remember, imagine, and live—can endure.

It’s an affirmation that culture is more than words; it’s the shared imagination behind them.

It’s not a word I’d start with. It’s a silly word, girl.

about the word ‘always’- text suggests that the notion that things should stay how they are is unrealistic, everything is always changing. Yolland repeating always (reference)

Hugh’s final monologue

Hugh’s choice to quote Latin, rather than Irish, adds ambiguity: he’s mourning cultural loss but also recognizing that change is inevitable. The line encapsulates the play’s central tension between preservation and adaptation, grief and survival.

Carthage is described with reverence — "urbs antiqua" (an ancient city) — but is also the future enemy of Rome, making its fall inevitable.

Moment is made richer by classical allusion- enhances understanding of tragic impact and importance of not letting your culture be erased like the Cartheginians

Final word in the play is ‘downfall’ 

Field Day Theatre Company

The company's first production in 1980 was Friel's recently completed play, Translations. They chose to rehearse and premiere the play in Derry with the hope of establishing a major theatre company for Northern Ireland.

Intention was to create a space, a 'fifth province,' that transcended the crippling oppositions of Irish politics. The term 'fifth province' — Ireland consists of four provinces — an imaginary cultural space from which a new discourse of unity might emerge.

The directors and members of the company argued believed that Field Day had a crucial role to play in the resolution of "the Troubles", by producing analyses of the opinions, myths and stereotypes intrinsic to the political situation in Northern Ireland

 

Derry, 1980

Translations was first staged in Derry in 1980 because the city holds deep symbolic and historical significance closely tied to the play’s themes:

1. Derry/Londonderry is itself a contested space with a layered colonial history—named “Londonderry” by the British Plantation settlers, the city embodies the play’s focus on renaming, cultural conflict, and colonial legacy.

2. Staging the play there brought the themes directly into the heart of a community still grappling with British rule and sectarian divisions, especially during the Troubles, which were ongoing at the time.

3. The local audience would intimately understand the emotional and political weight behind language, place names, and cultural identity, making the play’s message more immediate and powerful.

So premiering in Derry was both a practical and symbolic choice, connecting the play’s historical setting to contemporary realities.

Cathleen Ní Houlihan

Figure appears across a range of Irish nationalist (and revolutionary) and literary texts and songs, often symbolising Ireland personified as a woman — old, dispossessed, yet spiritually powerful.

Sarah symbolizes the silenced voice of Ireland – culturally rich yet increasingly marginalised. Like Cathleen Ní Houlihan, she embodies a feminized nation: vulnerable, idealized, and ultimately abandoned. Her initial breakthrough in speech, helped by Manus, suggests the potential for cultural self-expression. But her later inability to speak and her silent exit reflects Ireland’s loss of voice under colonial pressure. She is present at pivotal moments but often overlooked, much like Ireland’s native culture amid British authority.

Unlike the mythic Cathleen who calls men to sacrifice, Sarah is passive, silenced… a tragic inversion of that figure, reminding us not of glory but of cultural erasure and the quiet disappearance of identity.

Jimmy Jack

Steeped in the classical world, speaking fluent Greek and Latin but unable to communicate effectively in English or fully engage with the changing world around him. He lives in a kind of romanticized, insulated past, disconnected from the political and cultural upheaval outside.

His tragedy lies in this irrelevance: a man of immense learning, yet marginalized in a society that no longer values what he knows. But he’s not a figure of mockery—Friel treats him with dignity and affection. Jimmy represents a vanishing worldview, one rooted in mythology, oral culture, and continuity with the past.

At the same time, Jimmy's enduring joy in stories and language—despite everything—adds a bittersweet note of resilience. He may be "useless" in practical terms, but his imagination and cultural memory embody the very soul of the community. So he’s tragic, yes—but not defeated.

The Seanchaí

the storyteller or keeper of oral tradition

Manus represents the traditional Irish intellectual or patriot, often interpreted as a figure akin to this, or a doomed nationalist idealist. He is devoted to Irish culture, education, and language, but ultimately powerless to stop their decline.

He also echoes elements of the failed revolutionary — someone principled and loyal to Ireland’s cultural roots, yet unable to act effectively. His silent departure at the end marks him as a tragic figure, sidelined by history, much like the old Ireland he embodies: well-meaning, proud, but overtaken by colonial forces and internal divisions.

“We must learn where we live. We must learn to make them our own. We must make them our new home.”

On the surface, it’s a comment on change—on the necessity of adapting to a shifting political and linguistic landscape. But Hugh’s delivery, slurred and broken, reveals the emotional weight of that adaptation. He knows what is being lost: the richness of the Irish language, the cultural coherence of his community.

Urbs antiquat fuit

This line opens Book I of the Aeneid and refers to Carthage—evoking the theme of lost civilisations and imperial conquest, paralleling Ireland’s own threatened cultural identity. When Hugh recites this, it’s deeply symbolic:

Carthage = Ireland, rich in culture but vulnerable.

Rome = British Empire, dominant, conquering, rewriting names and erasing languages.

Yet by quoting Latin, not Irish, he also underscores the layers of colonial inheritance—even he is shaped by a colonized education system. The classical past he cherishes is itself a form of cultural displacement.

The room is comfortless and dusty and functional- there is no trace of a woman’s hand.

Polysyndeton

Unclean, unkempt, shabby

Function- there for a reason- no resources to afford to fix things

No trace of a woman’s hand- broken family, loss

Establishes a setting on the edge of society — informal, worn, and vulnerable. The hedge-school becomes a symbol of traditional Irish education and language, on the brink of being overwritten.

"words are not immortal"

Hugh acknowledging the transient nature of language and the impermanence of linguistic forms. This statement underscores the idea that language, while powerful and expressive, is subject to change and evolution over time.

Reflects the historical reality of linguistic flux and transformation. The Irish language, like all languages, undergoes shifts in usage, meaning, and pronunciation as it interacts with other languages and cultures.

However, the imposition of English as the dominant language by colonial powers accelerates the decline of Gaelic – it is a sudden ‘translation’ and therefore, devastatingly impactful.

Hugh's statement carries a sense of urgency regarding the preservation and revitalization of Gaelic in the face of colonial pressures. By recognizing the impermanence of language, he underscores the importance of actively safeguarding linguistic heritage and promoting language revitalization efforts to ensure the survival of Gaelic for future generations.

Tobair Vree crossroads

Origins lost in history, Tobair = well, Vree = Brian used to own the well, was drowned in it. Not actually at crossroads, well now dried up

But story passed down through generations

‘Just to indicate… a presence.’

This is all the oppressed Irish can do- make a gesture

Doalty moves the surveyors pole

“Doalty shrugs and turns away.” “Suddenly the atmosphere is silent and alert.”

When Donnelly twins are mentioned- Doalty’s behaviour changes, stage directions+ actors actions alert the reader/viewer to a shift in atmosphere and increased tension

The Donnelly twins are two characters who never appear on stage, but they are strongly implied to be rebels who use violence against the British forces in Baile Beag.

Nellie Ruadh’s baby

The baby is a representation of hope and continuity, embodying the promise of a future generation amidst the challenges of colonialism. The act of naming the baby, a deeply personal and culturally significant ritual, serves to reaffirm the family’s connection to their Irish heritage and the preservation of their linguistic and cultural identity. However, the tragic death of the baby shortly after birth carries profound symbolic weight. The loss of the infant symbolises the fragility of cultural continuity and the vulnerability of Irish identity in the face of colonial oppression.

The baby’s death underscores the harsh realities of life under colonial rule, where the forces of assimilation and erasure threaten to extinguish indigenous languages and cultures. In this context, the baby’s death serves as a poignant reminder of the stakes involved

“The English soldiers below in the tents, them sapper fellows, they’re coming up to give us a hand. I don’t know a word they’re saying, nor they me, but sure that doesn’t matter, does it?”

Foreshadowing in her comment

Complicates a reductive understanding of colonialism in practice, there is still a shared humanity. The play is about human experiences.

Kindness of English sappers foreshadows relationship with Yolland

The English soldiers are helping- shared humanity

“By his own admission, he speaks only English”

-Hugh

Something Captain Lancey should be ashamed of according to Hugh who represents Irish nationalism.

English is the language of commerce- not of poetry/myth/art- implies it is lesser than

“English…couldn’t really express us”

-Hugh

Better marriage between Irish and classical languages than English

We should all be learning to speak English. That’s what my mother says. That’s what I say. That’s what Dan O’Connell said last month in Ennis.

-Maire

Anaphora, reference to Dan O’Connell- nationalist leader ‘The Liberator’- significant figure in Catholic Emancipation of 1829

Sweet smell! Sweet  smell! … did the potatoes ever fail in Baile Beag? …There was never blight here. Never. Never!

-Maire

Sweet smell- recurring motif

Dramatic irony- the audience knows that the potato famine is coming

“It’s only a name,”

Owen Initially acts as a bridge between the British and Irish, believing the mapping project is practical and harmless- complicit in colonisation, active in changing the Irish cultural landscape & literally the geographical landscape

Dismisses the significance of identity when he says this- revealing internalised colonial attitudes- by naming something we gain some kind of power and control over it

As someone who’s younger who does not have the same length of time under oppression- learned to navigate the system

SARAH: I said it, Manus! (Manus ignores Sarah. He is much more interested in Owen now.)

• Sarah is marginalised

• she introduced herself but is being completely overlooked, she is silenced- representative of the Irish voice when the soldiers come in

“It’s an eviction of sorts”

The issue with the imposition of English cultural practice and language (impact of colonialism/linguistic imperialism) is that it is not a gentle transformation, it is a sudden “eviction.”- Yolland recognises this but this is dismissed by Owen at first until he later realises the mistake he has made in being complicit in linguistic imperialism

Foreshadowing ending of play- from metaphorical eviction to literal eviction

O my God, that leap across the ditch nearly killed me.

Maire

• Leaping over a boundary- symbolic

• Lexical choice of ‘leap’ has connotations of an act of faith

Maire: The grass must be wet. My feet are soaking. yolland: Your feet must be wet. The grass is soaking.

{Another pause. Another few paces apart. They are now a long distance from one another.)

• Proxemics- suggest they are engaging outside of social norms- parallels with exterior setting- they are outside

• Paralinguistic communication- love can transcend language

• Poignant moment- Parallelism even though they can’t understand each other

“What is that word, always?”

Parallelism: they both say this, but they do not know what the other is saying

• The audience has to remind themselves that the characters are not speaking the same language

• Dramatic irony that the audience are aware of synchronocity but the characters aren’t

• Only through translation can Maire and Yolland seem unified

“If you want to know about Yolland, ask the Donnelly Twins.”

-Doalty

Motif of the Donnelly Twins utilised- implies Yolland is no longer around like them, suggests violence

Sarah’s mouth opens and shuts, opens and shuts.

She has been silenced again- she does not speak again for the rest of the play.

Do you know the Greek word endogamein? It means to marry within the tribe. And the word exogamein means to marry outside the tribe. And you don’t cross those borders casually – both sides get very angry…

Maire is holding the Name-Book, a powerful symbol of cultural erasure and colonization (linked to the anglicisation of Irish place names).

Jimmy, a character who is deeply immersed in classical mythology and Greek language, uses the terms "endogamein"and "exogamein" to metaphorically describe cultural and national boundaries.

•Endogamein represents cultural preservation.

•Exogamein  represents cultural mixing or assimilation, which can lead to conflict and resistance.

•Jimmy’s question—whether he is “sufficiently godlike” or Athene “sufficiently mortal”—is both comical and tragic. It reflects the struggle between colonizer and colonized, and also between fantasy and harsh political reality.

Virgil’s Aeneid

Classical allusion parallels the fate of Ireland. Just as Carthage’s greatness is doomed by destiny, so too is the Irish language and culture threatened by the forces of empire and colonisation.

Hugh’s struggle to recall the lines—despite “knowing it backways”—reflects the disintegration of memory, tradition, and cultural identity. His faltering voice and the dimming lights reinforce the tragic inevitability of loss.

Can also be interpreted as a subtle warning to the British, the seemingly invincible Carthage-a mighty power favoured by the gods-was ultimately destroyed by an emerging force destined by fate- no empire is eternal

"Contentedly reading Homer in Greek…He is fluent in Latin and Greek but is in no way pedantic- to him it is perfectly normal to speak these tongues.”

Jimmy Jack stage directions- classical allusions from beginning of play

“Nobody’s listening. Nobody hears you.”

Manus encouraging Sarah to speak at beginning- as a representation of Ireland nobody hears Sarah

Manus could be encouraging her to say anything, but what they are concentrating on is Sarah's struggle to enunciate her own name, to say for herself who she is.- importance of language to our sense of identity

"Our Seamus says she was threatening she was going to call ti after its father".

Nellie Ruadh’s baby

Emphasis on the connection between names and the assertion of identity.

The baby is illegitimate, cut off from its paternal history- The baby’s christening, then, reflects the impending renaming of all of Baile Beag with names from an illegitimate fatherland—that is, Britain.

However, the baby dies only a few days later. At the end of the play, Sarah repeats her baby-rocking gesture to Owen, but this time she does so to indicate that Hugh is at the baby’s wake. The message is clear: renaming the Irish landscape spells death for the Irish language.