Peig: The Autobiography of Peig Sayers of the Great Blasket Island

by Peig Sayers, Bryan MacMahon (Translator), Eoin McKiernan (Introduction)

English (translation)

Genres: Nonfiction, Ireland, Irish Literature, Biography, Memoir, History, Biography Memoir

216 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1936

About the author

Seanchaí agus dírbheathaisnéisí Éireannach ab ea í Peig Sayers (1873 - 1958).

Tháinig Peig Sayers ar an saol i nDún Chaoin, baile beag i gContae Chiarraí, Éire. Phós sí Pádraig Ó Gaoithín ón mBlascaod Mór, agus d'aistrigh sí ansin leis. Ní raibh léamh ná scríobh aici, ach seanchaí den scoth ab ea í. Ba dual athar di é, nó nuair a bhí sí óg, chluineadh sí na mílte scéalta agus eachtraí á n-insint ag a hathair agus é ag déanamh airneáin le fir an bhaile. Dheachtaigh sí a cuid scéalta do Sheosamh Ó Dálaigh ó Choimisiun Bealoideasa Eireann. Tá cáil uirthi de bharr a dírbheathaisnéise, Peig. B'é a mac, Micheál, a bhreac an scéal síos uaithi, agus foilsíodh an leabhar sa bhliain 1936. Tá an leabhar ar bharr a theanga ag gach duine a thóg scrúdú Gaeilge na hArdteistiméarachta.

Bhí Peig Sayers ina conaí ar an oileán go dtí an bhliain 1953, nuair a tréigeadh na Blascaodaí ar fad. Bhog sí go dtí ospidéal an Daingin. Fuair sí bás ansin sa bhliain 1958, agus tá sí curtha i reilig Dhún Chaoin.

Reviews

[Diarmuid Fahy · Rating 1 out of 5]

The original Irish misery memoir, forever drilled into my memory. This book has scarred generations of Irish people, not just with its unrelenting miserable storyline, but with turgid prose and unbelievably boring events. It begins when, suddenly, nothing happened. It then continued to not happen for the rest of the book, broken occasionally with the odd death.

I would also add that Peig herself comes across as quite unlikeable.

Awful.

[Fionnuala]

Péig Sayers 1873 — 1958

I sat on the bank above the beach where I had a splendid view all around me. Dead indeed is the heart from which the balmy air of the sea cannot banish sorrow and grief […] I began to look away out to sea at the thousands of seabirds flying here and there in search of a bite to eat. Every bird from the stormy petrel to the cormorant, from the sand-snipe to the gannet was there and each variety of bird had its own peculiar call. There were many thousands of small seagulls; some, hovering lightly, were searching for little sprat or other morsels of food.
At last I grew tired of watching the gulls and I turned my gaze to the south—towards Dingle Bay. The whole bay was as calm as new milk, with little silver spray shimmering on its surface under the brilliant sunshine.

[Caoimhe Goggins · Rating 1 out of 5]

Enforced reading for anyone learning Irish in school. Two years worth of unintelligible text used as a method of torture by way of total boredom. It's typical that the only action in the most well known autobiography in Ireland is when the subject once falls into a ditch. To be approached with extreme caution.

[Daniel Ennis · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a profoundly important book. I loved it when I studied for the Leaving Cert in 1967 and I still love it. It really needs to be read in Irish, using this translation for reference if you need it, and then the distant voice of your Irish identity will come to you from nearly 150 years ago. It is so poignant and emotionally touching to go back to 1877 and read of a little four year old girl who can't wait to get to school so that she can have her own book filled with coloured pictures. The cover was red. When she stole a piece of sweet cake from an old woman in a smoke-filled cottage she knew, as she said, that Someone was watching. She remembered that theft years later when she was seventeen on her return home after four years in service in Dingle. The important issues of the day - memories of the famine that her parents endured and the ethics of stealing food to stay alive, the Land League, evictions, and emigration - are all interwoven into the life of a young girl as she looks to the future. And it was a future that saw major upheaval in Ireland, the seeds of which were sown in the unrest she describes so well. He brother arranged her marriage to a man from one of the Blasket islands. I will leave the stories from that island for you to hear through the voice of the great story-teller.

[Mary Byrne Hoffmann · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you want to be transported to a tiny island in the middle of the Irish Sea where there is no priest, no teacher, no doctor - just 150 subsistence farmers and herders, a king, and a couple of incredible storytellers, this is the book for you! In language that will make you weep for its sheer beauty and inventiveness, Peig paints a stunning picture of a life of great tragedy and triumphant humor. Full of wisdom and endurance!

[Tricia · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this for my leaving cert in school. But I should say more than likely I studied the notes the teacher gave us. I bought it in English a couple of years ago and read it properly. A very enjoyable read and a real eye opener as to how difficult life was in Peig Sayers time. Would definitely recommend it.

[Jacquie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh my gosh, this is one time I am so glad I didn't listen to the reviews. I absolutely loved Peig's stories! It makes me wish I could visit those days, pull up a seat at her fire and hear all the stories from her family and friends. What a treat!

I do wish we could know what happened to the rest of her family so I'll have to look her son Michael up who, it says was a poet.

It also makes me want to start writing my mother's stories. How wonderful to be able to pass these onto our future generations.

[Bel Murphy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I, too, read this as a set text in Irish when at school. Fortunately, we had a gifted teacher who brought the text to life for us and gave us a fascinating insight into the trials, tribulations and joys of rural life in Ireland at that time. A visit later in life to the Dingle peninsula including a spell with an Irish-speaking family brought back memories of this book.

[Rory · Rating 1 out of 5]

The most boring book ever written.

[Jerome · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tar éis dom taisteal chuig an mBlascaod Mór an samhradh seo caite, rinneadh athnuachan ar mo spéis i Peig Sayers arís. D'ordaigh mé an dírbheathaisnéis ó leabharlann i mBéarla; Thóg mo iarratas cúpla seachtain ach fuair siad cóip a bhí thar a bheith sásta liom.

A bheith mar Ghaeilge Rinne mé staidéar ar shaol agus ar amanna Peig Sayers ar scoil; Faraor, gan mórán suime ann. Labhair mé i gcónaí leis an nGaeilge an oiread agus is féidir thar na blianta agus d’fhás mé go mór le mo theanga dhúchais. Is mór an plé atá ann an leabhar seo a léamh, scríobh Peig go hálainn faoina saol agus faoi a hamanna, molaim go mór duit do chuid ama a infheistiú i léamh an dírbheathaisnéis seo.

Having travelled to the Great Blasket Island this past summer my interest in Peig Sayers was once again renewed. I ordered the autobiography from an English library; my request took a few weeks but they found a copy to my absolute delight.
Being Irish I studied the life and times of Peig Sayers at school; sadly, with little interest.
I have always spoken Irish as much as possible over the years and grew to love my native language. Reading this book now has been a rare treat, Peig wrote beautifully about her life and times, I highly recommend you invest your time in reading this autobiography.

[Polly · Rating 5 out of 5]

Leabhar iontach álainn!
What a remarkable woman. Peig does not get enough credit to be honest. For those who complain about her from their school days, please please please pick up this book and give it another go!
Yes there are sad parts to her life (no one’s life is going to be sunshine every day, hate to break it to you) but the resilience she shows is so admirable.
She speaks with such poetry and beauty. It’s no wonder people used to come to the island just to hear her talk. She was a renowned storyteller, pretty cool for a woman in her day. Over 400 pages of folklore were collected from her mouth alone before she passed. She is truly a national treasure, and is a big reason as to why the Irish language is so strong in the Kerry Gaeltacht today. Her and her fellow islanders preserved a beautiful language and culture for us, through their writings.
Molaim an leabhair seo go hiomlán, go háirithe as Gaolainn. Grá mór don bhean seo!!!

[E M · Rating 5 out of 5]

The read was delightful. The prose is poetic. Peig Sayers’ outlook on life, while on the surface appears downtrodden and pessimistic, her underlying spirit and faith demonstrates a love and faith in her land and the people around her that is uplifting and inspirational.
Anyone interested in Irish culture will benefit from reading this book.

[Rh · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ardú meanman agus briseadh croí

Chuaigh an leabhairín seo go mór mór i bhfeidhm orm. Ní thuigim na daoine a bhfuil gráin acu ar an mbean seo, nuair is seoid liteartha í an saothar seo a chaomhnaíonn cuid d'ár n-oidhreacht atá caillte againn. Is fiú an cáineadh forleathan a dhéantar ar Pheig a cheistiú, mar chaithfeá croí chomh crua le cloch glas a bheith agat gan a bheith tógtha leis an leabhar seo.

Ní rabhas ag tnúth leis na scéalta croíúla ón oileán, thug síad ardú meanman dom agus Peig ag déanamh cur síos ar na féilte a bhíodh acu. Is ríléir na buanna scéalaíochta a bhí aici agus mholfainn d'éinne an leabhar seo a léamh chun teacht ar a dtuairimí féin. Nach bean mhaorga, mheidreach ab ea í, a raibh saol crua, contúirteach aici ar "charraig aonarach i lár na Mara Móire". An cur síos a dhéanann sí ar an tírdhreach, fanfaidh sé liom go dtí gur féidir liom filleadh ar Dhún Chaoin arís. Agus an cúr síos mómhar a dhéanann sí ar an gcruatan, fanfaidh sé liom go deo. Peig abú! 💚

[Iain Snelling · Rating 2 out of 5]

The book that thousands of Irish schoolchildren have read in Irish. Not recommended by my Irish wife! A book of reminiscences, some happy but many tragic. Marriage and moving to great Blasket island happened later in the book and there is nothing really of the way of life there from about the turn of the century. Plenty of ‘stories’ usually involving death or misfortune.

[Charlotte · Rating 3 out of 5]

Although I understand this is a text used in Ireland to teach Irish, I found it fairly enjoyable. Don't expect a modern expose style autobiography - it's more a set of short stories about Sayers' life and her neighbors' lives. The title is also a little misleading - she doesn't actually get to the Blasket Island until halfway through the book.

The beginning is a little slow-going, but the pace really picks up about a third of the way in. I found it most fascinating for the detailed first-hand look at what life was like for the poor people in the west of Ireland during her time. She writes of the childhood of the first generation after the Famine through to a period of time where cars were becoming more common, which is a pretty unique perspective.

[Mary · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was recommended to me by a tour guide on our tour of the Dingle Peninsula, Ireland. It is the autobiography of a woman who used to live on the Dingle Peninsula before her marriage and then married a fisherman and moved to the The Great Blasket Island visible from the tip of the Dingle Peninsula. This book describes a very difficult life both on Dingle and on the Blasket Island but there's a love of land and family that is easily understood after a visit to the Dingle Peninsula. I don't think I would have appreciated this book without understanding the Irish Catholic faith and without having visited that area of Ireland.

[☆Dani☆]

Tá brón orm, Peig, ach ní bheidh mé ag léamh an leabhar seo. Nuair a chuala mé faoi do leabhar, tá mé ag leamh. An-leamh. Is fuath le gach duine a fhios agam an leabhar seo.

Agus tá mé an-uafásach ag Gaeilge. Nuair a scríobh mé an athbhreithniú, d'usáid mé Google Translate le beagán. Mar níl mé go maith ag Gaeilge. Ceithre bliana déag i scoil, agus ní féidir liom labhairt Gaeilge. Milleán roinnt daoine Peig agus a leabhar. Níl a fhios agam, ach beidh mé insint duit, ní bheidh mé ag léamh an leabhar seo. Slán go fóill agus an bhfuil cead agam dul go dtí an leithreas.

[Tracy Gaughan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’ve been thinking about varying degrees of detachment recently, particularly in terms of femininity and womanhood and specifically with regard to resoldering the links by reading more women, to forge new bonds with femininity and weave the threads of a female genealogy. Peig is an interesting case. Like Socrates, she never wrote down a word. So, there’s a disconnect from the get-go and an almost fivefold detachment to contend with in this autobiography. First of all, her story was dictated to her son in her native Irish, composed/written down by him and then further edited by Maire Ni Chinneide for publication, it was translated into English and further edited for use as a mandatory text for teaching Irish on the secondary school curriculum, and that, according to historian Finn Dwyer, was modified to reflect the Free State’s version of the quintessential Irish woman. In essence, the true spirit of the woman’s life seems to have been diminished and reconditioned in a way, so through that tarnished mirror of masculinist historical archive, we kind of get an inappreciable sense of this vibrant, enigmatic and complex woman. While it’s a miracle that a woman’s personal history was preserved at all - and Peig was unique in that sense being a Seanchai and contributing an inordinate amount of material to the folklore commission - it grates that her reminiscences are curated by men. Brian McMahon in his introduction say’s ‘that to convey the tone and spirit of the original of this ‘simple’ but ‘moving’ autobiography I have tried to ‘imagine’ how she would have told her story’ - so a woman’s words are not great or significant or fascinating, they’re simple, moving and ripe for reinvention by much more creative men. By virtue of the fact that the woman was a Seanchai, I’m curious about the degree to which some of her tales might be embellished for the reader. That said, I found the book very interesting, so much of it resonated with me as these were my ancestors, too who lived an extremely harsh life, albeit by the sea in Ballycroy, Co. Mayo. Peig could have been my great-grandmother with her black shawl and clay pipe, her dead husband, lost babes and perceived heart of stone. Incidentally, so often throughout the book, there are references to rigid, coarsened women indifferent to kindness and a torment to their husbands. What wonder, in such a hardened and poverty-stricken world where women were the adhesive, the called upon figures intrinsic to the community's survival, if they crumbled so would it. And the only place they had agency if they had any at all was in the home. There are many references to women having to pull themselves together, to reconcile themselves to service, to an unwanted marriage, emigration, the deaths of so many of their infants - Peig’s mother lost nine children and never recovered to full health again and this woman would have survived the famine. Acceptance or that kind of silent resignation was key to life and it permeates the book. Peig herself speaks of having to control her feelings. Sentiment was often borne alone and internally. At all times Peig’s hope kept her up, and her faith. Almost every salutation, every wish and farewell is about God directing her to the right path. She recalls her grandmother always telling her to call on God when she’s in trouble. So when death gores her, she calls on the Virgin for strength to wash and clean her son, Tomas and lay him out for death. She describes herself as being an instrument in the hands of the divine in order to do that. I suppose, to a degree, she symbolizes the nation, its political struggles and religious devotion. Peig’s form of stoicism can be seen a gift and illuminated for me where my own feminal resilience comes from - my mother, grandmothers, that long line who endured so much and I felt the links resoldering as I read. I was also reminded of the philosophy of Keats that life must be undergone. And it must, no time to dwell. Although she does discuss the violence and hostility associated with the Land Wars, Peig doesn’t reveal much about the Rising, WW1, and the War of Independence which were also ‘gone through’. Again, it seems the effects of these devastating events were conceded, suffered and borne, privately. In a similar way, the great Famine is impossible to face out loud, it’s referred to as gorta mor, the great hunger or is often reduced or minimized by the people who survived it to the bad times or an droch shoal. Similarly, the 30-year conflict in Northern Ireland is referred to as the Troubles.
Tragically, women were reared to expect little and so they received little: service, emigration or marriage, and Peig herself says she was convinced a harsh life lay in store and she’d have to harden herself to it. Things were accepted as they happened because there was little expectation of anything better. Inconceivable, to contemporary Irish women who have choices, passions and professions, who are free to aspire to be and expect nothing less than the best versions of themselves. There’s a palpable sense of wonder and longing in those liminal moments she spends standing in the doorway, daydreaming. She went to the doorway a lot to ponder her future. A kind of threshold between her old life and the new or between reality and the imagination. In these moments she is lost to herself, absorbed in the chatter of rooks, the sun rising or seabirds over the harbour; her interest in folktales, vividly recounted, all signify the necessity of the imagination in a constrained world, I suppose, and they are rare instants of self-deference for she deferred in all other aspects to the men in her life. She would have bailed the ocean for her brother and to her father at her marriage meeting: ‘whatever pleases you, pleases me’. Thankfully her betrothed was an ‘even-tempered, honest boy and a good man’ because marriage was forever, irreversible.
Peig, would have been back on the mainland by the time the second world war was gone through, nonetheless, these national and international events would have socially, politically and economically impacted the island and a way of life that was declining there. No doubt after she had her last child reared for export, Peig knew she was among the last generation of islanders. Incidentally, contrary to widely held notions of ignorant islanders, these were an intelligent and engaged people with signs of modernity - the intertwining of the local and the global all about. As Joseph Cleary points out in his essay on Ireland and Modernity: ‘modernisation via colonisation preceded modernisation via industrialisation’. So there were advances and strong American connections, import and export of flour & lobster to the UK, cultural tourism arriving in the form of visiting linguistic scholars such as JM Synge (who also visited Aran and found more examples of modernity than he expected) and Robin Flowers, and Peig talks at the end of the book about doing her share for the Irish language, concluding also that people like her will never again be here, they’ll be stretched out and the old world will have vanished. She was right in many respects and it had been vanishing away also with the OS - the British mapping project of the 1830s, that sought to plot the country, rename its places and preserve its disappearing culture. I thought the toponyms were lovely to read about, the Road of the Dead, Whitefield, Black Head, Glenagalt - the glen of the mad which makes you wonder why places were named the way they were and the haphazard and crude nature of anglicization that deprived them of their meaning. Some things haven’t vanished though. The sense of cohesion and the collective attitude to life Peig describes the islanders as having is still to be experienced in many rural communities. The idea of the meitheal is a tradition still very much alive.

[Paul Gaya Ochieng Simeon Juma · Rating 4 out of 5]

A memoir of an ordinary woman in extraordinary times. The book retraces much of Peig Sayers life. Her dismal childhood, her schooling in Ireland, her marriage, the births and death of four of her children, all these are vantage points from which the reader can observe the march forward and Peig's steady progress in life. She embodies the fate of the poor in Ireland back then.

[Marie Monson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Such a lovely story!

[Patricia J. O'Brien · Rating 4 out of 5]

Peig Sayers' autobiography won't be everyone's cup of tea, not that she herself had a lot of opportunity to drink tea since she grew up in poverty following the Great Famine in Ireland. A number of Irish school students have despaired of having to read Peig's tales of those harsh times, which you can find in the comments on this site. However I found I needed to read what 19th-century life was like in the most rural, western part of the island where Irish was still the most spoken language.
I could imagine sitting by a peat fire listening to her storytelling, being drawn in by the rhythm of her language, and picturing a time when entertainment was found in what people could share with each other, whether it be story, poem, song, or whisky. And where joy and servings of sorrow were found in what that life dished out.

[Cait · Rating 5 out of 5]

It took me a while to get into this book, but once I did, I was fully engrossed by the depiction of Peig's life and her happinesses and hardships in rural Ireland. I have read broad-stroke histories of Ireland that cover the 1800s and 1900s, but a first-hand account of these times is so much more touching and heartrending. I am very grateful that this book exists and that the memories of all the people that were a part of Peig's life continue on through it.

[Myrna Howes · Rating 4 out of 5]

We visited this area recently, and I decided to read a few books by the Great Blasket Islanders. Tough and tender, joy and immeasurable heartbreak, simple yet profound. Peig and her people will stay with me

[Shannon Ture · Rating 4 out of 5]

A valuable recording of an ordinary life - a memoir of a hardy Irish woman who lived in a simple time when neighbors visited each other nightly, told tales into the wee hours, and blessed one another with their speech.

[Amanda Cappon · Rating 1 out of 5]

This is not my cup of tea.

[Ljiljana · Rating 5 out of 5]

I moved to Ireland 3 years ago ,and being from Serbia l never knew too much about Great Famine or rural Ireland except few pages in the history books. I went to Dingle last week and the feeling was unreal- from native Gaelige spoken to unique people of Dingle and their little shops, so you can imagine the curiosity and admiration when l found out about resilient people of Blasket islands. Every single one of them is what l always thought Ireland represents- rough cliffs, hardworking people full of stories and daily hardships, native language and culture preserved in a tiny but happy community. Peig was one of those people, l can't believe people are saying book is boring. Every sentence is a precious insight in the irish culture and humour even in toughest situations, also don't forget those people were so smart and well educated ,they left huge heritage to cherish. Peig was what real feminism is- brave, hopeful lady who always wanted better for all of us woman and even in the dark times of Famine all she wanted was little red book. Magnificent big Peig, where ever she is God bless 🙏🍀

[Pam · Rating 5 out of 5]

Peig Sayers' autobiography is a gem of Irish literature, a seminal work in Irish studies. In judging it, it is important to remember that this is essentially an oral history, encouraged by an Irish scholar and written down by Peig's son. It is unreasonable to expect any smooth narrative, but instead a collection of recollections that were important to her. In the last chapter, Peig herself acknowledges that she has not told her entire story, just the parts she wanted to.

Written in the vernacular of an elderly early 20th century Irishwoman who lived on the remote Great Blasket Island, the book can sometimes be a challenge to follow, but the extra effort is well worth it. It's an interesting, genuine record of Irish life in County Kerry, Dingle, and the Great Blasket Island which for those who aren't aware, has been unpopulated since the mid-1950s when the Irish government moved the mostly elderly population to the mainland.

"

[Kelvin · Rating 5 out of 5]

An incredible read- I think a lot of reviews here are soured by the mandatory Irish course reading. This translation does a fine job, and sends the tone that Peig herself wanted to send- colloquial, as if telling the story by a fire. The stories offer great glimpses into the past, and into the history of an impoverished people.

I've read a book from the same period - 70 years of Irish Life- written by a wealthy Anglo-Irish man William Le Fanu. The difference in perspective is shocking. Le Fanu sees joy in people, and praises the country for being the near paradise he sees it as, marred by mismanagement and the Land Issue. Peig, on the other side of that, shows the real struggle that Le Fanu glosses over.

All to say- I appreciated the perspective this book gave me. A glimpse at the same view through a new pair of glasses as it were.

[Roger Boyle · Rating 3 out of 5]

We bought this during a visit to the Blaskets.

It's actually fascinating as a picture of life in isolated rural Irish poverty: there are many references to an even worse time during the famine and the translation is excellent at making you read it in an irish lilt.

I would have enjoyed reading an introduction that extracted the real lessons in this: there are many pages of Muiris and Padriaig doing thing with cows, and the Catholic piety is certainly genuine but makes me very glad I didn't have to discuss the nature of fate with these people.

3 stars is harsh, call it 3.5. Fascinating, but I've had enough.

[Ruth McAvinia · Rating 5 out of 5]

I didn’t actually read this edition as I read it in Irish. Anyway, lots of people hate this book because they were forced to read it as teenagers in school and, frankly, I don’t blame them because the social history of the early 20th century in Ireland can be quite grim. People fall off cliffs and women drag the bodies of their children to the graveyard. But there is also a lot of humour and amazing use of language. It’s a lot better than I ever imagined and some of the folklore and superstition is wild.