As to where the idea for Cré na Cille came from, Ó Cadhain went on to say:
When I was released from the prison camp I was at home that winter. A neighbouring woman died during the short dark days around Christmas. There was a deluge of rain and sleet so that the grave couldn’t be dug until the day she was being buried. Five or six of us went to dig it, so as to hurry the job. We dug up two graves but didn’t find the right coffins. The map of the graves was sent for but it was like a child doing sums in the ashes on the hearth. It was late in the day and the funeral would soon be upon us. We said we’d dig one more grave and that would be it. On our way home one of my neighbours said: “Do you know where we sneaked her in eventually,” he said, “down of top of a person whom I will call Micil Rua.” “Oho!” said another, “there will be some grammar there alright!”41
The story (or stories) is in ten parts described as interludes (eadarlúidí). The dialogue is augmented by snippets of verse, occasional parodies, and the distinctive passages uttered by Stoc na Cille, the Trump (Trumpet) of the Graveyard, at the beginning of interludes 3 to 8, which then peter out into textual insignificance.
Critical opinion on these distinctive passages varies from complete dismissal to wondrous admiration, but there is general agreement that the prose is markedly denser and intentionally metaphoric, and appears to have no discernible impact on the graveyard inhabitants.
Daniel Corkery criticised these passages as an extraneous romantic affectation, an attempt by Ó Cadhain to add depth to the narrative.42 “Rather purple punctuation marks” is how Breandán Ó hEithir chooses to describe the Trump’s exclamatory pronouncements,43 and a combination of “Father Time” and the Fates is another surmise.44 Concepts of playfulness,45 mockery,46 and practical jokes47 are also alluded to. But more serious intent is posited by scholars who note the development of death as a primary motif in the passages: “dreochan atá i saol na mbeo”48 (living is but decaying), and “dreo an fhómhair agus reo an gheimhridh”49 (decay of autumn and freeze of winter). “The Trumpeter adds a further dimension to the work,” says Ailbhe Ó Corráin. “His is the only contemplative voice. It is he who introduces the central themes of regeneration and decay and gives the work much of its suggestive power. You might say that he brings a little gravity to the grave.”50 Róisín Ní Ghairbhí also argues that Stoc na Cille provides a marked contrast to the dialectal exchanges of the graveyard and seeks to offer an alternative model of authority, parallel to the graveyard chatter.51 Declan Kiberd has described Stoc na Cille as “an entirely playful, ironical invention” that functions as “a debunking of the cult of the author.”52 Joan Trodden Keefe argues for the validity of several purposes for these passages, which are “clearly satiric” in her view and could possibly be based on “a parody of the ‘Bugle’ and ‘Loudspeaker’ announcements of the Curragh, where the voice of authority is ever-present but ultimately ignored by the camp inhabitants, and so also in the graveyard.”53 The present translation of these high-flown passages reflects our conviction that, as invocations of the great cycles of life and death, they are to be read with extreme seriousness.
Various narrative strands in the novel involve three sisters: Caitríona Pháidín, the chief protagonist, a seventy-one-year-old widow with a married son called Pádraig Chaitríona; Nell Pháidín, Caitríona’s younger sister, who married the young man Caitríona was in love with; and Baba Pháidín, their eldest sister, who has been left a legacy in Boston, whose death is imminently expected, and whose last will and testament is the subject of constant transatlantic correspondence — the Big Master (An Máistir Mór) writing for Caitríona, and the priest (An Sagart) writing for Nell. A relation of these sisters, Tomás Inside, is an easy-going bachelor who avoids any form of labour while drawing a weekly pension, and is playing both sisters against each other, with their eye on his patch of land.
Caitríona was in love with Jack the Scológ, who could enchant the young women of the village with his repertoire of songs and traditional (Sean-Nós, or Old Style) singing. But Nell stole him away from them all, married him in triumph, and has kept Jack and his songs to herself ever since. Caitríona has carried her hatred and envy of Nell into the grave with her, along with her love and longing for Jack the Scológ. Jack and Nell are still above ground.
When reacquainted with Muraed Phroinsiais in the graveyard, Caitríona makes a seemingly innocent statement of intent: “Anything concerning me personally, anything I saw or heard, I brought it to the grave with me, but there’s no harm in talking about it now, as we are on the way of truth.” (Being “on the way of truth,” ar shlí na fírinne in Irish, is a common expression for being dead.)
Muraed functions as a safe foil, allowing Caitríona to engage in full, frank, and extensive disclosure about her relatives and in-laws, safe in the knowledge (for most of the time) that Muraed was a good friend and neighbour above ground. Hardly anybody else escapes the lash of Caitríona’s tongue, but her son Pádraig’s mother-in-law, Nóra Sheáinín, with her aspiring notions of culture and grandeur, is a constant target of Caitriona’s, especially when Nóra boasts of having an affaire de coeur with the Big Master, and puts her name forward as a candidate in the graveyard election.
The Big Master dominates large parts of the book. He marries his assistant but soon after falls ill and dies. Shortly after his burial a new arrival tells him that his widow is being consoled by Billyboy the Post (Bileachaí an Phosta), then he hears that they have married, and after that again that Billyboy is at death’s door, all of which inspires the Big Master to scale new peaks of invective and vituperation, culminating in what is probably the longest litany of curses ever uttered in a graveyard.
Adaptations of Cré na Cille
Cré na Cille has had a life beyond the confines of its covers and has been the subject of several dramatic, stage, and film adaptations in addition to substantial critical documentary features on television and radio. Shortly after the establishment of Raidió na Gaeltachta in 1972 Cré na Cille was adapted as a serialized drama for radio by the poet and writer Johnny Chóil Mhaidhc Ó Coisdealbha (1929–2006). This was an ambitious project for the fledgling Gaeltacht radio service and involved the production of twenty-five separate thirty-minute instalments that were broadcast between 6 February 1973 and 24 July 1973. Recorded by Tadhg Ó Béarra (†1990) and produced by Maidhc P. Ó Conaola, the series required the services of an extended cast, designated as Aisteoirí Chonamara, some of whom were located in Dublin and travelled weekly to the headquarters of Raidió na Gaeltachta in Casla in Conamara for the recording sessions. The part of Caitríona Pháidín was played by Winnie Mhaitiais Uí Dhuilearga (†1982) from Béal an Átha, Mine, Indreabhán, with eloquence and élan. This dramatic version was remastered by Máirtín Jaimsie Ó Flaithbheartaigh and rebroadcast on a weekly basis between January and June 2006 as part of the commemoration of Ó Cadhain’s birth by RTÉ, Ireland’s national television and radio broadcaster. The series was then issued as a publication by Cló Iar-Chonnacht and RTÉ in 2006 and is contained in a set of eight CDs with production notes and short biographies of the cast. Charles Lamb’s portrayal of the graveyard is reworked and reinterpreted by Pádraig Reaney’s artwork on the CD publication.