What's in a Name?

 In Dungarvan, there is a wealth of eating establishments, a bevy of coffee shops, and a multitude of public houses. In each, there is rich and plentiful conversation. I’ve tried to record (in writing) or reconstruct a few that I’ve heard today.

Conversation heard at Ormond’s Café:

What’s the difference between a Blaa and a Bap?
Did you mean the Breakfast Blaa?
Yes, is it a Bap?
Well, no..
What is it then?
Well it’s like a Bap, but here we name it a Blaa.
So it is a Bap then?
No, no.. A Bap’s a Bap and a Blaa’s a Blaa.
Well then, what’s the difference?
I don’t rightly know. Do ye want one then?
Well, if it’s a Bap, I’ll have one.
Ok then.

The rhythm and sound of the language here is wonderful, but I can’t rightly say exactly why it’s so enjoyable to listen to.  It’s like playful banter. It’s like music.  It’s fun and it’s quick witted. It seems to depend on questions and to steer clear of resolution. It delights in itself.

Conversation heard at the Enterprise Bar:

Billy, who was that girl in here yesterday?
What do you mean?
Who was she?
That’s Marianne, that.
Oh yes, that’s a darlin’ name, that. Is she a local girl?
Never-you-mind that, there.  She’s too young and too good for ye.
Too good you say Billy?
Yes, it don’t take much, by God, for the likes of you.
Ah Billy, you’re painin’ me.  That’s not right.
Well I should give you a pain, for all you gives me.

Both conversations, in the café and in the bar, were dotted with laughter and dramatic expression.  The conversations sparkled. The repetitions resonated.  It was appealing to me on what seemed to be a subconscious level.

Seamus Heaney writes a poem (or many poems) about the sounds of Irish language and the etymology of English names and phrases in Ireland. The words and the sounds of the words have meanings. In “A New Song,” he emphasizes the importance of language beginning the poem with “I met a girl from Derrygarve / And the name, a lost potent musk, / Recalled the river’s long swerve” (1-3). Here, the name of the place, and not the name of the girl, has the effect. The word Derrygarve, like Dungarvan, has a deep historical meaning associated with it.  I know (or think I know) that Dun stands for fort.  I suspect that garve stands for a bend in the river. Derry is a proud Irish name in the North. To come from Derrygarve conjures up poetic meaning. To come from Dungarvan is to come from a location whose very name speaks a grounded and ancient sense of place.