The Tain

This is not a retelling or a novelized version of the Ulster cycle tales. Rather this is a translation of an ancient saga equivalent to the Odyssey, Iliad, or Mahabarata. Years ago, not long after this book was first printed, I had the good fortune to hear Thomas Kinsella, an eminent modern Irish poet, describe how in translating the Ta/in, he combined his own vision with expert input from scholars of the ancient language. The voice in this translation is that of Kinsella, but it echoes the voices of all those who came before him. Having studied the ancient language and texts myself, I feel that Kinsella has produced a work of poetic art that is nevertheless faithful to the meaning and spirit of the stories. The beautiful semi-abstract images by Le Brocquy are not really illustrations but accompanying art, demonstrating how the cycle of Ulster tales, which has inspired Irish artists through various eras, continues to kindle the creative fire in those who read and hear them.

If you are interested in learning about pre-Christian Irish--or Celtic--tradition, the Ta/in is indispensable reading. If you are seeking a novelized version (at one extreme) or a literal translation (at the other), you may want to look elsewhere. If you are new to Celtica, you may want to pick up some additional reading to better appreciate the text. For commentary on the mythology behind the story, see _Celtic Heritage_ by Alwyn and Brinley Rees. For more information about the culture of medieval Ireland, see Nery's Patterson's _Cattle Lords and Clansmen_. To keep all the names straight (and the Ta/in has a cast of hundreds!), get James Mac Killop's _Dictionary of Celtic Mythology_. If you are interested in modern Irish literature rather than medieval, you will still want to read the Ta/in: this saga inspired modern Irish writers from Yeats to Heaney. Even Joyce drew heavily from the Ulster cycle (see Maria Tymoczko's _The Irish Ulysses_ for details).


Excellent job Mr. Kinsella   April 23, 1998
Ed Macauley (ascii64@mindspring.com) (Atlanta, Ga)
26 out of 27 found this review helpful

Kinsella does an excellent job of bringing the ancient epic to life. You can almost imagine an old Irish bard reciting the tale in front of a peat fire. Kinsella includes not only the Tain, but stories leading up to the Tain and a brief story about how the Tain was once again learned:
"If this your royal rock
were your own self mac Roich
halted here with sages
searching for a roof
Cuailnge we'd recover
plain and perfect Fergus."

The above was spoken by the poet Muirgen at Fergus's grave, and summoned the spirit of Fergus to... Oh, just buy it and read it.

The epic of the Tain is starting to creep back into our lives. Only recently a software company calle Bungie included many Irish myths as a foundation for one of their most popular games to date. The Tain is also once again being performed by storytellers and it's an excellent tale either oral or written. On a side note, the pronunciation guide is a bit lacking, you'll have to do some leg work to get the proper pronuciation of some Irish words and names.


Lock up your cattle, the Ulstermen are here.   March 30, 1998
19 out of 19 found this review helpful

This is a literary masterpiece to match the 5th(?) century manuscript: action, adventure, deceit, love, death, life, marriage, and hurling! What more could I ask for? Kinsella manages to pull you into the past of Ireland without loosing the flavor and excitement of the original epic. No pansy 19th century Victorian mush here, Mrs. Brown. This is the raw thing, the Irish story of how a hero was created. I grew tired of reading German translations of Old Irish stories, for lack of anything worthwhile in English. Too frequently, translators spend their time getting the exact meaning of each word, only to loose the beauty and flavor of the original melange. Kinsella comes through like a mighty warrior of the Uliad out of the distant past. Slainte!


The Best of the Cúchulain-Ulster Cycle Irish Epics   January 8, 1997
13 out of 15 found this review helpful

Around the time Jesus walked the Earth, a child-warrior from Ulster, named Setanta, went to a feast. King Conchubar forgot to inform his host, Cullen, that the boy was coming. The host had set his dog, the biggest and meanest in all Ireland out to protect his holdings. The dog had set upon Setanta. The child made short work of the vicious beast. When the party's host complained of the loss of his watchdog, Setanta said that he would be Cullen's hound. That became his name. A name revered in Irish Legend to this day - Cuchulain (Cullen's Hound) This translation of the Epic, by Thomas Kinsella, is the one I would say makes the most enjoyable reading. I would place the Irish Epics against Edith Hamilton's Greek Myths any day. There are other versions of this story. Plus many other heroic tales of ancient Ireland. But I think Mr. Kinsella's is the best that I've read so far.


How does Kinsella compare to Carson?   February 25, 2008
John L Murphy (Los Angeles)
10 out of 11 found this review helpful

A few weeks ago, I compared (on Amazon under both versions) the new Oxford UP translation from the Middle Welsh by Sioned Davies of "The Mabinogion" with the standard edition by Patrick Ford, from U. of California Press. The Old Irish equivalent of a medieval Celtic epic that for most of us represents the epitome of ancient adventure and mortal combat, "The Táin," now can gain the same comparison and contrast. We can finally study Thomas Kinsella's 1970 Oxford UP edition next to Ciaran Carson's 2008 Viking-Penguin hardcover. As with my comments on Amazon about the two competing Mabinogi, I will select a favorite passage. I will transcribe how Kinsella and Carson render it. Poetic Champions Compose!

Kinsella (pp. 250-51): "Then Medb got her gush of blood.
'Fergus,' she said, 'take over the shelter of shields at the rear of the men of Ireland until I relieve myself.'
'By god,' Fergus said, 'you have picked a bad time for this.'
'I can't help it,' Medb said. 'I'll die if I can't do it.'
So Fergus took over the shelter of shields at the rear of the men of Ireland and Medb relieved herself. It dug three great channels, each big enough to take a household. The place is called Fual Medba, Medb's Foul Place, ever since. Cúchulainn found her like this, but he held his hand. He wouldn't strike her from behind.
'Spare me,' Medb said.
'If I killed you dead,' Cúchulainn said, 'it would only be right.'
But he spared her, not being a killer of women. [Cúchullain watches them depart. The battle is over, the Connacht forces defeated, as Medb tells Fergus. . . .]
'We have had shame and shambles here today, Fergus.'
'We followed the rump of a misguided woman,' Fergus said. 'It is the usual thing for a herd led by a mare to be strayed and destroyed.'"

Carson:(pp. 206-07)

"Then Medb got her gush of blood.
'Fergus,' she said, 'cover the retreat of the men of Ireland, for I must relieve myself.'
'By god',' said Fergus, 'you picked a bad time to go.'
'I can't help it,' said Medb, 'I'll die if I don't go.'
So Fergus covered the retreat. Medb relieved herself, and it made three great trenches, each big enough for a cavalcade. Hence the place is known as Fúal Medba, Medb's Piss-pot.
Cú Chulainn came upon Medb as she was doing what she had to.
'I'm at your mercy,' said Medb.
'If I were to strike, and kill you,' said Cú Chulainn, 'I'd be within my rights.'
But he spared her, because usually he did not kill women. [. . . .]
Now that they had lost the battle, Medb said to Fergus:
'The pot was stirred, Fergus, and today a mess was made.'
'That's usually what happens,' said Fergus, 'when a mare leads a herd of horses -- all their energy gets pissed away, following the rump of a skittish female.'"

To me, Kinsella opts with alliteration like "shame and shambles," and "shelter of shields" to convey a balance, a slightly archaic register. Hypotactics heighten orderly parallelism like "strayed and destroyed" and "was stirred" and "was made." A dignity remains despite the scatological content. For Carson, an edgier, conversational tone stresses slightly the bitterness that Fergus feels, and the gloating that Cú Chulainn indulges, when the hero's finally cornered his arch-foe-- only to catch her with her skirt down.

The two editions complement each other. Carson notes in his introduction that he had resisted initially the temptation, but wound up peeking at his predecessor and eventually "checked every line of mine against Kinsella. I trust my translation is different." As I found with Davies and Ford, so with Kinsella and Carson. In the latter poet's estimation, you can see that "there are occasions when my words do not differ a great deal from his. That is inevitable when more than one translation emerges from more or less the same text. And for better or for worse, my translation will be seen as a commentary on Kinsella; I hope it will also be taken as a tribute." (xxv)

The two editions use the same base text, Recension I. Carson re-orders some episodes, and adds a bit to Kinsella's content. Both authors package the many small sections of the original Old Irish into chapters; Carson has one fewer than Kinsella. Kinsella prepared seven 'remscéla' or prefatory tales; Carson summarizes these in end-notes. Both try for, Carson explains, a non-literal translation. But, where Kinsella allowed some "relatively free verse, I have kept to the original syllable-count of the lines," with a few exceptions that proved impossible. (xxvi) Rhyme and assonance, Carson adds, had to differ too from the original's 'aabb' pattern that would've been "difficult and tedious to replicate in English." He sticks to Cecile O'Rahilly's scholarly recensions in their spellings. These names dependably provided ironic commentary on the action, embedded for an Old Irish audience.

Both editions feature brief introductions, a translator's prefatory note, end-notes, and a pronunciation guide. The elegant design in the earlier Oxford UP paperback that incorporated Louis le Brocquy's magnificent brush drawings, and the typographical elegance of the 1969 Dolmen Press original, along with three handsome maps. Kinsella matches his denser end-notes to the text's pages; Carson uses numerical indicators keyed to fewer end-notes. Kinsella remarks on topography and the manuscript's tradition. Similarly, Carson discusses "landscape as metronymic map" and the concept of 'dindsenchas,' or place-name lore, helpfully. Neither translator gets bogged down in this topic, but they nod to it meaningfully. Their end-notes treat it at more length. Therefore, both poets strive to keep the integrity of the text primary, and relegate helps for us today to their own separate niche, as is both helpful and proper.

Carson's book weighs in at just over two hundred pages, about eighty less than Kinsella's. That version, of course, featured illustrations and typographically and graphically keeps its advantage. Carson's, smaller in heft and on less durable paper (even in the hardcover, disappointingly), otherwise remains neck-and-neck in both style, scholarship, and swiftness.