Hangovers and Herring

Abstract

A MANX STORY? Is there such a thing? Aren't I thinking of a Manx cat, that little quadruped that resembles a cat in every particular, save that it lacks a tail? It is admittedly very difficult not to think of a Manx cat, once you have made the acquaintance of one. You never realize how much you take the tail of a cat for granted until you meet one (a c^t) who lacks one (a tail). As Evelyn Waugh would put it, it is just^too too shame-making, a cat lacking a tail. Be that as it may, the Manx cat survives the trauma of its body to stroll in picturesque state across an island which is already much too pic turesque. Tiny, gaudily colorful, with horse-drawn trams and a miniature electric railroad, elderly retirees and motorcycle races, mountains and palm trees, all superimposed on a brooding Celtic undercurrent ? the Isle of Man defies easy classification. There is the Isle of Man of the Runic inscrip tions and cold grey stone crosses; there is also the Isle of Man of the tea shops and cheap trinkets ? a Manchesterian's paradise. The language of to day is English; there are no known living Manx speakers. But the lan guage of history, the yearned for, embattled language, is Manx. Brutally repressed by the British in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, Manx remains today the road to the Isle of Man's past. And possibly its future. A number of new books, articles, stories and accounts have been written in Manx in recent years by those who have inherited, if not the birthright, then surely an interest in their parents' and grandparents' tongue. In addi tion to their publishing activity, these revivalists have begun campaigns to have street signs written in Manx, and Manx language courses taught. Such activity, though relatively circumscribed, can't fail to have an effect on such a small island. As it is, the Isle of Man maintains its own postal and coinage systems, with brilliant stamps and boldly emblazoned coins. Not to mention the justly famed Manx kippers. The literary output of the Isle of Man is idiosyncratic. Much of it con sists of translations from the Bible, or Manx versions of classics such as Paradise Lost. But there is also quite a bit that departs from the orthodox, that enters the world of the buggane, the Manx fairy-bugbear, known to terrorize farmers living in isolated regions, or drunken men stumbling home after a night's indulgence. The 'little people' are never very far away