This is a hilarious satire which parodies the typical Gaeltacht memoirs published in Ireland after 1922. These books were a mandatory part of the Irish school curriculum and those who went to high school in Ireland in the '80s will forever remember [b:Peig: The Autobiograpy of Peig Sayers of the Great Blasket Island|1998679|Peig The Autobiograpy of Peig Sayers of the Great Blasket Island|Peig Sayers|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1447275760l/1998679._SY75_.jpg|671229]. The hardship of life in these remote regions was real, but the Irish have their own unique way of describing it. Tragedy doesn't seem all that bad, because in the end "Shur it'll all be grand". Flann O' Brien takes this to a whole new level in this extremely amusing parody.

Anois caithfidh mé an leagan Gaeilge, [b:An Béal Bocht|1638992|An Béal Bocht|Myles na gCopaleen|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1356154219l/1638992._SY75_.jpg|969563] le [a:Myles na gCopaleen|757952|Myles na gCopaleen|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/m_50x66-82093808bca726cb3249a493fbd3bd0f.png], a léamh. Fuair mé sa phoist é inné agus tá mé ag súil leis é a chur i gcomparáid leis an aistriúchán Béarla.

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‘The Poor Mouth’ is a scathing yet amusing satire squarely aimed at the narratives and custodians of Gaelic Ireland, complete with endless rain, countless meals of potatoes and house shares with sheep and pigs. The protagonist, Bonaparte O’Coonassa, lives in the fictitious village of Corkadoragha where he ambles through a poverty stricken yet mildly philosophical and content life. This is a short, enjoyable read that immerses you in a beautiful, simple yet ridiculous tale which pulsates with Irishness. Without having read O’Brien’s other works yet, I’ve gleaned that this is only moderately surreal in comparison but it was still evidence of skilful writing and a risk-taking, experimental style that made for an engaging read. I’ll definitely be reading his others! ( )

La novela es una crítica de la situación en la que se encontraba la población rural irlandesa a mediados del siglo xx. Trata sobre la identidad, real o impostada, y el título de La boca pobre alude a una expresión gaélica que hace referencia a cargar las tintas sobre la pobreza y las penurias que se padecen, con objeto de obtener compasión y lástima, y los beneficios que estas reportan. Aquí todos buscan ser lo que no son.

A Strong and Unsteady Book, Better Than a Well-Constructed One

There are many ways to encounter this book. Some people found it in its original Irish, and many more in its 1973 translation. Here are some coordinates of my own, written in a pastiche of O'Brien's prose:

1. I read it finally, probably thirty years after I first heard of it. Those thirty years correspond fairly well to my marriage, to Margaret MacNamidhe, who comprises 100% of the Irish portion of our marriage.
2. At the beginning of that period I attempted one summer's worth of Irish classes in a Gaeltacht. They sometimes involved driving a night, down extremely narrow winding deserted country roads, in pelting rain. I abandoned those lessons in a state of awed bewilderment.
3. Also in that period I read English versions of two books that absolutely have to be read before "The Poor Mouth," because otherwise a reader will entirely fail to laugh at the appointed times. They are: Tomás Ó Criomhthain's "The Islandman," in which, among other things, a man plasters a wound caused by a seal bite with meat taken from the seal, and, among other things, the athor says "our like will not be seen again," which is repeated incessantly in "The Poor Mouth"; and Peig Sayers's "Peig," in which everyone dies, as most people do in "The Poor Mouth." The darkness of O'Brien's satire absolutely cannot be appreciated without an experience of the humorless, portentous Catholic suffering expounded in "The Islandman" and "Peig."
4. The reason I read "The Islandman" and "Peig" was because I was trying to gain a better understanding of my wife's formation, something that I now realize was absolutely hopeless, mainly because she disliked those books because they were Irish, because they were required, and, I think, because they were humorless, whereas O'Brien disliked them because their suffering was very close to his but their self-awareness was a galaxy apart.
5. It is one of the most rermarkable facts of cultural development in any nation that "The Islandman" was written only 12 years before "The Poor Mouth." I would have guessed centuries.
6. This year I finally found time to read "The Poor Mouth" as part of an attempt to read all of O'Brien's work. This time my motive isn't marital harmony or cultural curiosity but an interest in novels that are irrational. "The Third Policeman" is crazy in many ways, and "The Dalkey Archive" crazier in some other ways, and "Cruiskeen Lawn" (his newspaper columns) extremely funny and bitter... so I still have no clear sense of who he is, or how often his imagination became as spectaculary disarranged as it does in "The Third Policeman" or "The Dalkey Archive."

This is by way of saying anyone who sits down to read this without thinking of its various contexts will miss it almost entirely, which will not at all decrease its brilliance.

And may I note that this is book is not a satire in the normal sense of that word, which supposes an author in control of his viewpoint and his pen. "The Poor Mouth" more often rudderless than it is Swiftian. It has funny stretches and short stories, and some bitter satire about Gaels and people like Tomás Ó Criomhthain. But it veers, at the end, suddenly into maudlin bathos and tragedy, and it seldom manages a steady keel between the Scylla of sniping social commentary and the Charybdis of bottomless suffering. So let's do it the favor of not calling it a satire: it's much more interesting than that.

Indeholder "Forord til førsteudgaven", "Forord", "1. Hvorfor jeg taler. Min fødsel. Min mor og Grågubben. Vores hus. Dalen hvor jeg blev født. Gælernes trængsler i forgangne tider", "2. En dårlig lugt i vores hus. Grisene. Ambrose kommer. Det hårde liv. Min mor i livsfare. Martins plan. Vi reddes og er i sikkerhed. Ambrose dør", "3. Jeg kommer i skole. "Jams O'Donnell". Et stipendie på to pund. Atter grise i vores hjem. Grågubbens plan. En af vores grise savnes. Legendefortælleren og grammofonpladen", "4. Gælingorernes kommen og gåen. Det gæliske universitet. Et gælisk alting på vores egn. Herren fra Dublin. Sorg følger lystighed", "5. På jagt i The Rosses. Landskabets skønhed og undere. Legendefortælleren Ferdinand O'Roonassa. Min natlige spadseretur. Jeg jages af det onde. Jeg bringer mig uden for fare", "6. Jeg bliver en mand. Giftesyge. Jeg og Grågubben i The Rosses. Jeg gifter mig. Død og ulykke", "7. Tiggeren Sitric. Hungersnød og ulykke. På sporet efter sælerne på klippen. En stormfuld nat. En mand der ikke vendte tilbage. Logi blandt sæler", "8. De hårde tider. Oversvømmelsen i Corkadoragha. Maeldoon O'Poenassa. Hungertinden. Jeg er langt hjemmefra. Kval og kummer. Jeg er døden nær. Rejsens afslutning. Whiskey i stride strømme. Hjemme igen", "9. Jeg er utilfreds med min velstand. Til byen for at finde støvler. Min nattevandring. Havkatten i Corkadoragha. En betjent i huset. Sort og ulykke. Jeg møder en slægtning. Min histories afslutning.".

Fortælleren Bonaparte O'Coonassa kommer til verden som ret ung i en ludfattig gælisk husholdning. Et kalkhvidt, lille, usundt hus i en afkrog af dalen på højre side, når man går østpå ad landevejen. Huset er ældgammelt og ingen ved hvem der i sin tid har bygget det. Faderen er borte og kun en bedstefar kaldet Grågubben og moderen tuller rundt blandt svin og andre husdyr, der kommer indenfor om natten for at bidrage med lidt varme. En so ved navn Sarah får en smågris mere end hun har patter til, så den overskydende døbes Ambrose og bliver flasket op og varmet ved ildstedet. Ambrose lugter desværre ret grimt, selv af en gris at være. Faktisk så slemt at det truer dem på livet. En bekendt Martin O'Bannassa hjælper ved at lukke huset af i en times tid til Ambrose er død af sin egen lugt. Ambrose bliver begravet på sømmelig og behørig vis og vi kommer nok ikke til at se sådan en som ham igen.
Bonaparte bliver sendt i skole og får den første dag et engelsk navn Jams O'Donnell af en uhyggeligt udseende engelsk lærer ved navn Osborne O'Loonassa. I stedet for en vanddåb får Bonaparte et dask med en åre og han beslutter sig for aldrig mere at gå i skole. Der kommer lærde folk fra London for at studere gælisk. En af dem optager det på grammofonplader og han får flere timer med af lyden af en sulten pattegris. Det lykkes at transskribere lydene og han bliver højt berømmet på konferencer fremover. Pattegrisen har tøj på for Gubben har brugt den til at få udbetalt et legat på to pund pr barn, der taler engelsk.
???

I 1920'erne og 1930'erne gav den irske stat støtte til udgivelsen af en række bøger på gælisk, heriblandt nogle tårepersende selvbiografier. Denne bog er en sød parodi på dem. Synes nu jeg. For enhver har ret til sin mening og det er sandt for dig. Og typer som dig kommer ikke igen. Tør man håbe.
Her er lidt af Mark Twains historier om den lille artige dreng og en forløber for Emil fra Lønneberg, selv om historiens fortæller er meget langt fra at være ret kvik. ( )