How I learned to pronounce Welsh (kind of).
'Is that a map sticking out of your pocket? Let’s have it here a minute.’
Will handed it over. Squatting on the hillside, Bran spread it on the rustling bracken. ‘Now,’ he said. 'Read out the names that I point to.’
Will peered obediently at the moving finger. He saw: Taly Llyn, Mynydd Ceiswyn, Crmmaes, Llanwrin, Machynlleth, Afon Dyfi, Llangelynin. He read aloud, laboriously, 'Tallylin, Minid Seeswin, Semeyes, Lan-rin, Machine-lech, Affron Diffy, Lang-elly-nin.’
Bran moaned softly. 'I was afraid of that.’
'Well,’ said Will defensively, 'that’s exactly what they look like. Oh, wait a minute, I remember Uncle David said you pronounce f like v. So that makes this one “Avon Divvy”.’
'Duvvy,’ said Bran. 'Written in English, Dovey. The Afon Dyfi is the River Dovey, and that place over there is called Aberdyfi, which means the mouth of the Dovey, Aberdovey. The Welsh y is mostly like the English u in “run” or “hunt.’
'Mostly?’ said Will suspiciously,
'Well, sometimes it isn’t. But you’d better stick to that for now. Look here - 'He fumbled inside his leather satchel and brought out a school notebook and pencil. He wrote: Mynydd Ceiswyn. 'Now that,’ he said, 'is pronounced Munuth Kice-ooin. Kice like rice. Go an, say it.’
Will said it, peering incredulously at the spelling.
Three things there,’ said Bran, writing. He appeared to be enjoying himself. 'Double d is always a "th” sound, but a soft sound, like in “leather” not in “smith.” Then, c is always a hard sound in Welsh, like in “cat.” So is g, as a matter of fact - it’s always g as in “go,” not g Is in “gentle.” And the Welsh w is like the oo sound in “pool”, nearly always. So that’s why Mynydd Ceiswyn is pronounced Munuth Kice-oo-in.’
Will said, 'But it ought to be un at the end, not in, because you said the Welsh y was like u in “run.”’
Bran chuckled. 'There’s a memory. Sorry. That’s one of the time when it isn’t. You’ll just have to get used to them if you’re going to my the places right. After all you can’t complain about us not being consistent, not when your old English is full of thing like dough and through and through.’
Will took the pencil and copied from the map 'Cemmaes’ and 'Llnngelynin.’ 'All right then,’ he said.’ If the c is hard then it must be Kem-eyes.’
'Very good.’ Bran said. 'But a hard s, not soft. Said fast it comes out Kemmess. Like chemist, without the t.
Will sighed, looking hard at his next sample, 'Hard g, and the y sound. So it’s… Lan-gel-un-in.’
“You’re getting there.’ Bran said. 'All you have to learn now is the one sound most Englishmen can never manage. Open your mouth a little way and put the tip of your tongue against the back of your front teeth. As if you’re just about to say Ian.’
Will gave him a doubtful look, but did what he was told. Then he twitched his lips upwards, and made a face like a rabbit.
'Stop it,’ said Bran, spluttering. 'Get educated, man. Now while your tongue is there, blow round the sides of it. Both sides at once.’
'That’s right. Now, say the word Ian but give a bit of a blow before you bring it out. Like this: llan, llan.’
’Llan, Llan,’ said Will, feeling like a steam engine, and stopped in astonishment. 'Hey, that sounds Welsh!’
'Pretty good,’ said Bran critically. 'You’ll have to practise. Actually when a Welshman says it, his tongue isn’t like that and the whole sound comes out from the sides of his mouth, but that’s no good for a Sais. You’ll do all right. And if you get fed up with trying you can take the other English way out and say ll like thl.’
'Enough,’ said Will. 'Enough.’
'Just try one more,’ Bran said. 'You wouldn’t believe the way some people say this one. Well, yes you would, because you did too.’ He wrote: Machynlleth.
Will groaned, and took a deep breath. 'Well - there’s the y - and the ll -’
'And the ch’ is sort of breathy, the way the Scots say loch. At the back of your throat, like.’
'Why do you people make everything so complicated? Mach … un … Ileth.’
'Machynlleth.’
'Machynlleth.’
'But mine doesn’t really sound like yours. Yours sounds better. Like German. Achtung! Achtung !’ Will yelled suddenly at the top of his voice, and Cafall jumped up and barked, tail waving.
'Good Lord, no! I heard that in some old film. Achtung! Machynlleth!’
'Machynlleth,’ said Bran.
'You see, yours does sound wetter. Sploshier, I expect all Welsh babies dribble a lot.’
'Get out of here,’ said Bran, and grabbed at him as Will dodged away. They ran down the mountain, laughing, in a wild zigzag, with Cafall bounding joyously alongside.
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