#insular celtic

[halfmoonworkshop]

Atah Shalom canvas by Half Moon Workshop (2025)

אתה שלום וביתך שלום וכל אשר לך שלום

atah shalom ubeitkha shalom vekal asher lekha shalom

Peace to you, peace to your house, peace to all that is yours.

[ball-eis-korakas]

Early Greek and Roman scribes such as Herodotus (450 BC) and Polybius (200 BC) make reference to a loose ethnic grouping as the Keltoi or Galli in their written histories: a largely tribal society of warlike, iron-based communities.  The similarity in stone inscriptions and artifacts discovered in Europe and Britain dating from this period points towards a form of shared language.  The Keltoi described in the ancient Greek histories were the early Celts, dispersed as far north as the Iberian Peninsula and to the Scottish highlands in the north. Although there are undoubted similarities between these tribal groups in terms of linguistic unity (e.g. alphabetic symbols and verb, subject, object word order), the chronicles of the ancient historians are contradictory and confusing.  The Roman writer Tacitus stated that the language spoken by the Gauls was very similar to the language spoken by the early Britons.  Julius Caesar, however, saw little similarity and noted that the three principal tribes of Gaul spoke in noticeably distinct dialects.  As a result, to view the Celtic languages as belonging to one unified ethnic grouping is problematic, with modern historians preferring to divide the various dialects and forms into two distinct groups: Continental Celtic and Insular Celtic. The first of these groupings, Continental Celtic, comprises Leontic (spoken in the southern Alpine region), Celtiberian (spoken in parts of north-eastern Spain and Portugal), Gallaecian (France and northern Alpine region).  The second grouping, Insular Celtic, comprises two distinct linguistic families: Goidelic and Brythonic, which subdivide into other related languages.  The former (Goidelic) includes Irish and Scottish Gaelic and Manx and the latter (Brythonic) Pictish and Cumbric (both extinct), British [Common Brittonic], Welsh, Breton and Cornish.  As virtually all Continental Celtic is now extinct, exact geographical boundaries are a matter of vague approximation.  In all probability, certain tribes were nomadic in aspect and this added to a crossing and merging of dialects, hence the conflicting views of Julius Caesar and Tacitus.

“The Story of English: How an Obscure Dialect Became the World’s Most-Spoken Language”

[halfmoonworkshop]

Behind-the-scenes peek into the design process for my Celtic uncial Hebrew font over the years. 1: first attempt ever; 2: the next attempt, about ten minutes later; 3: pen and ink calligraphy practice of both Celtic uncial and my "Hebrew uncial" styles; 4: sample of the Celtic uncial script; 5: early practice for the Atah Shalom canvas.

[crumdubh-blog]

Remember NOT to appropriate any cultures this Halloween!

And remember that only identifying pagans and descendants from the now Great Britain and Ireland are meant to celebrate ‘Halloween.’ If you do not live in these areas or are a direct descendant from this area then you are APPROPRIATING THIS CULTURE. It is no more acceptable than wearing a mohawk or aboriginal headdress/other ceremonial garb.

[jpnoodlemen]

Conlanging

So I’ve been bitten by the bug to create a Constructed Language. Now me being a tad biased, I went with a distinctly Celtic inspired. Though not Irish, I’m looking across the pond at Welsh and Cornish and Bretons for sounds and loose Y’s.

Some loose details and goals:

Gender: As intrinsic to Insular Celtic languages as they are, having every object have a gender is.... errrr annoying IMHO. Okay, sure maybe its because Scottish Gaelic is the first Celtic language I’ve studied or learned to any degree. And in it not only is everything masculine or feminine but you basically have to remember each words gender to properly use it. BOY is that annoying to me. Either I plan to create classes of nouns or cases and then nouns from specific cases have genders (Cutting back on it) or have 3 alla allegedly Gaulish. Ideally I could cut it out or back and have a situation were Prince and Princess translate to the same word, with gender being acknowledge for names of persons and maybe a select set of objects both animate and inanimate.

Lenition: Consonant mutation is intrinsic to Insular Celtic languages. I’ve no ideas for what should trigger Lenition in this language.

Easy to learn Grammar: For the most part, other than VSO word order I’m borrowing a lot of grammar from Esperanto, just because you can learn it in like a day or two.

[ida-backwards-intherain]

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.'

Will blew.

'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.'

'Not bad at all.'

'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.

'Do you speak German?'

'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. 

From The Grey King by Susan Cooper. This children's novel is responsible for eight-year-old me impressing Welsh waitresses on our family holidays.