It is 1833 and in Baile Beag, a fictional ‘every-town’ in county Donegal, there is change happening.
Change to the places names. Change to education. Change to language. But it is language that is the chief concern of playwright Brian Friel. The power of language to unite and divide, to remember and forget, to hold true and to lie.
The locals mix their native Irish tongue with liberal use of Latin and Greek under the watch of the eloquent, but drunken, hedge school master Hugh (Denis Conway) and his lame son Manus (Aaron Monaghan). A national school is on the way. The British are in town to make a map and anglicise place names. And opinion is divided on whether English is the language of the future or a malign presence. Over this lies the spectre of potato blight, a blow that will not strike for another ten years.
The arrival of Hugh’s well-to-do son Owen (Barry Ward) with two British soilders in tow is the catalyst for all these issues to be brought into focus. Captain Lancey (Michael James Ford) has been charged with mapping Ireland. Strict, serious and, frankly, a bit of a bastard.
The second ‘Brit’ is Yolland (Tim Delap), here to help anglicise place names. A romantic; he sees what Baile Beag (Ireland) is losing through this process; clearer that the locals themselves do. A love triangle between Manus, Yolland and the lovely Marie (Aoife McMahon) adds to the intrigue.
Some characters speak only Irish (with some Greek and Latin), other speak only English and a few are bilingual. Part of the genius of Brian Friel’s Translations is that you immediately want to read the script afterwards to see how all this was put across on the page. Everything is spoken in English. The audience understand everything that is being said, but the characters don’t.
What could be a gimmick is actually a treat to watch. The misunderstandings, the subtle changes in meaning through translation, the shared feelings being lost. It’s like a Two Ronnies sketch giving dramatic weight. A play that sometimes mocks the limitations of English also celebrates it, and all language.
Over a short running time of two hours (with interval) not every theme is fully stretched out. And don’t expect solid resolutions in the plot. But that’s not what it is about. It’s a celebration of, and elegy for, language. About what we’ve lost, what we’ve forgotten and what we’ve remembered.
By Kevin Donnellan
Translations runs until August 14th.
