The Herald on Sunday

A living language Scotland’s incoming species are given new Gaelic names

- By Sandra Dick

FOR the leathery sea squirt, life mainly revolves around finding a surface to anchor itself upon and remaining there for the rest of its long life, sucking in seawater and spitting it out again.

With its knobbly body, toughness – it can survive for decades – and propensity for squirting seawater, it clearly lives up to its English name.

Now, however, it has a new and, some may say, far more poetic-sounding name.

It, along with dozens of other animals and plants which, as the climate shifts have made Scotland and the UK their home, have received Gaelic names, bringing them in line with the locals and reflecting the language’s rich traditiona­l connection to the natural world.

In most cases, species with fairly ordinary names in English become far more romantic in tone when transforme­d into Gaelic.

The bearded tit, usually found in the south and east of England, becomes cuilcear staiseach – “moustached reedworker” – and the azure damselfly is cruinneag liath, meaning “grey, tidy girl”.

Others, including the leathery sea squirt, are more literal in their translatio­n: spùtachan-mara leatharach means spouting, sea and leathery.

Most Gaelic versions reflect the creature or plants distinctiv­e features.

In readiness for the expected arrival of Muntjac deer, originally from China and now spreading across England, researcher­s came up with fiadhcomha­rtaich, meaning “barking, rib-faced deer”.

And the surf scoter, more often found on the coasts of Gaelic-speaking Nova Scotia and occasional­ly appearing on the Scottish coast, becomes lach-dhubh tuinne, meaning “black duck of the wave”.

The naming of incoming species into Gaelic is the result of a collaborat­ive project that has brought language experts, naturists, scientists and artists together to unpick their English and native names, research their origins, and rebuild them into Gaelic.

It has led to 40 species, spanning plants, birds, butterflie­s, marine life, slugs and even snow-bed algae, to be christened with new and often extremely evocative names.

The project, supported by NatureScot and Gaelic language body Bòrd na Gàidhlig, was inspired by the Gaelic word “dualchas”.

Similar to “heritage”, it encompasse­s the bonds between the natural world, land and its people through language, tradition and culture.

The Gaelic language has traditiona­lly named animals and plants in a way that reflects aspects of the landscape, traditions and local cultures.

Naturists, scientists and artists rename Scotland’s incoming species to reflect the Gaelic language’s rich traditiona­l connection to the natural world

Winging its way

AN exhibition called From The Bird’s Mouth – Bho Bheul an Eòin – featuring watercolou­rs of each newly-named species by acclaimed wildlife artist Derek Robertson whose idea inspired the project, and a Gaelic haiku written in their honour by Skye-based Irish poet Rody Gorman, has now opened at Grinneabha­t in Bragar. It will later visit Fife and Edinburgh.

A new book of the same name is due to be published next month. It will bring the art and poems together with Gaelic and English explanatio­ns behind the species’ names, origins, how they made their way from distant shores to the UK, and how our changing climate is aiding their movement.

Mr Robertson, a Fife-based Gaelic speaker and wildlife artist, said the project aims to highlight climate change and new species arriving in Scotland, while demonstrat­ing how Gaelic continues to evolve today.

“Gaelic has a rich tradition of naming things in the natural world,” he said. “Things that are named in Gaelic have a pattern of meaning, so all the finches, for example, are named after species of plants or trees, and groups of birds like storks and heron are corra.”

Corra is Gaelic for “odd”, reflecting the birds’ distinctiv­e long, spindly legs, thin necks and sharp beaks.

He added: “I learned Gaelic as an adult, and it was obvious there were animals and plants that did not have a Gaelic name.

“The options were to follow the English name and directly translate it, but following the English name feels out of place – it’s uncomforta­ble because we know that language would just create names organicall­y.

“People were also hesitant to just coin a name in case they get it wrong.

“This is a good way to talk about the changing environmen­t that we live in, these new species, and the creative nature of Gaelic as a living language.”

The project took researcher­s on a journey that spanned languages at home and abroad, researchin­g Irish Gaelic, Welsh, Manx and Scandinavi­an to see if names for certain species already exist in those languages, and the thinking behind their names in the locations were they originated.

Some, such as the leathery sea squirt, were suitable for literal translatio­ns, while for others, new words were devised.

Well red

THE red-necked wallaby which has taken up residence on the Loch Lomond island of Inchconnac­han after being imported by a former owner, posed a particular issue as the Gaelic alphabet does not feature the letters “w” or “y”.

Researcher­s eventually settled on uallabaidh ruadh-mhuinealac­h – wallaby with the red neck.

The project involved representa­tives from a wide range of organisati­ons, including the National Museum of Scotland, Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh and nature organisati­on Buglife, along with Gaelic experts.

Mr Robertston added: “We drew up a list of names for each species and looked at translatio­ns of specific names, the English name, looked to see if there was

Scotland’s climate is changing and new wildlife species are establishi­ng themselves here. This project brings Gaelic’s intrinsic link with nature and place into sharp focus

an Irish or Welsh or Scandinavi­an name. We looked at its name in its own home range and looked at whether it made sense in Gaelic.

“We then came up with a shortlist and went back to a committee of advisers and asked which ones they liked.

“There was a vote and with those that were a ‘draw’, we ended up humming and hawing until we decided whose opinion was best.

“It’s been a fascinatin­g project to work on and I have learned about a lot of species I was never aware of before.”

Mr Robertson added that the book will explain how each species arrived. “Sometimes it’s human agency, they’ve hitched a lift across or been introduced. With others it’s climate change.

“Some are a real problem, some are less of a problem. Some seem to have found a niche and are quite a welcome addition to our flora and fauna.

“The variety of stories behind them – that is so fascinatin­g.”

Phil Baarda, ecosystems and land use officer at NatureScot, said: “Scotland’s climate is changing and new wildlife species are establishi­ng themselves here.

“This project brings Gaelic’s intrinsic link with nature and place into sharp focus.

“From The Bird’s Mouth is a superb example of linguists, scientists, artists and public bodies working collaborat­ively to ensure that Gaelic maintains its connection to our evolving ecology.”

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 ?? ?? Derek Robertson is a Fife-based Gaelic speaker and wildlife artist
Derek Robertson is a Fife-based Gaelic speaker and wildlife artist

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