Ùrachadh mu Dheireadh 21/09/2017
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TIOTAL
'The Testament of Gideon Mack'
EXTERNAL ID
AB_LL_JAMES_ROBERTSON
ÀITE
Baile Èoghainn
SGÌRE
Inbhir Pheofharain
SIORRACHD/PARRAIST
ROS: Sgìre Thighearna
DEIT
2008
LINN
2000an
CRUTHADAIR
James Robertson
NEACH-FIOSRACHAIDH
Am Baile
AITHNEACHADH MAOINE
1365
KEYWORDS
claistinneach
cruthan-tìre litreachais

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Tha a' chuibhreann chlaistinneach seo o 'The Testament of Gideon Mack' le James Robertson, foillsichte an 2006.

'Come on.' I said to Lorna and I put my arm through hers. 'Let's go and see the Black Jaws.'

We could already hear them. The last few days of rain had poured off the hills and swollen the upper reaches of the Keldo, and now thousands of gallons of water were being funnelled through the ravine every minute. The black cliffs were drumming with the sound of it. It was difficult to tell if the haze surrounding the trees was part of the fresh rainfall or spray rising from below. The path took a turn to the right and dropped a little towards a wooden bridge stretched across the ravine - an innovation since Augustus Menteith's day. Immediately to our left, at the path's turn, the ground fell away even more steeply, with trees stretching from it at odd angles, some almost horizontal, their roots like clawed hands clutching fiercely at the earth. The roar and reverberating boom of the river seemed to be coming up through the soil itself, through the layers of rock, through the trunks of the trees and the very soles of our boots. Even Jasper, who had shown only curiosity towards the crashing waves at the beach, trembled a little and slowed to a walk, keeping himself within easy reach of us. If he hadn't been behaving like this, I would have suggested to Lorna that she put him on the lead. As it was, there seemed little risk of him doing anything daft.

But I had reckoned without the appearance of the rabbit. As we came down to the bridge, there was a sudden burst of movement to our right, and a brown shape shot across the path and into the undergrowth on the other side. Jasper was after it in a second. Lorna and I both yelled at him, but he was oblivious to anything but the rabbit. I have never seen a dog move so fast. The pursuit was over in seconds, however, because the rabbit, plunging down through the wet grass towards the wetter ferns and creepers which marked the edge of the cliff, took one leap too many as it strove to outpace the dog. Suddenly it was in flight, launched from the last scrape of rock into the spray-filled air. It hung there for a long second and then dropped out of sight like a flung toy. We couldn't hear above the din but we could see Jasper's desperate efforts to halt, the shower of mud and twigs and grass his back claws threw up as he skidded down the slope, and then he too disappeared. For one ghastly moment we waited to see his taut black body also flying into space, but there was nothing. Lorna let out a long scream, 'Jasper, O God, Jasper, O God, O God.' Nothing. And then, faintly above the terrible roar of the Black Jaws, a pitiful howl came back to us. Beyond our vision, but evidently perched somewhere on the edge of the precipice, Jasper was still alive.'

Rugadh James Robertson ann an Kent ann an 1958 ach tha ceangalaichean aige ri Ros an Ear agus ri Cataibh - thàinig a shinnsearan taobh athar o Chinn Deis agus tha a phàrantan a' fuireach ann an Dòrnach. Dh'fhàs e suas ann an Drochaid an Àilein ann an Siorrachd Shruighlea agus rinn e sgrùdadh air eachdraidh aig Oilthigh Dhùin Èidinn. Chaidh a chiad leabhar de sgeulachdan goirid 'Close', fhoillseachadh ann an 1991.

Bho 1993 gu 1995 bha James na sgrìobhadair-an-làthair aig Brownsbank Cottage, faisg air Bigear ann an Siorrachd Lannraig, an dachaigh a bha uaireigin aig a' bhàrd Hugh MacDiarmid. 'S e deasaiche 'Itchy Coo', clo-bhualadh clainne sa chànan Albannach, a th' ann an Seumas, agus tha e cuideachd air dà leabhar a dheasachadh o obair Hugh Miller, an clachair agus clach-eòlaiche o Chromba.

Choisinn a nobhail 'Joseph Knight' (2003) leabhar na bliadhna san dà chuid, Comann Bratach na Croise agus Comhairle Ealain Alba agus chaidh 'The Testament of Gideon Mack' (2006) air an liosta fada do Dhuais Man Booker agus do Dhuais Sgrìobhadair a' Cho-fhlaitheis. Fhuair e duais Alba Chruthachail ann an 2006 agus tha e ag obair air a cheathramh nobhail. Tha e a' fuireach ann an Siorrachd Aonghais.

Chuir James gu feum Clais Mhòr na Creige Duibhe, faisg air Baile Èoghainn, na mhodail airson na 'Black Jaws' a th' ann an 'The Testament of Gideon Mack'. 'S ann sa Chlais Mhòir cuideachd a shuidhich Hugh Miller uirsgeul o sheanchas a dh' innis e ann an 'Scenes and Legends of the North of Scotland'.

Airson stiùireadh mu bhith a’ cleachdadh ìomhaighean agus susbaint eile, faicibh duilleag ‘Na Cumhaichean air Fad.’
’S e companaidh cuibhrichte fo bharantas clàraichte ann an Alba Àir. SC407011 agus carthannas clàraichte Albannach Àir. SC042593 a th’ ann an High Life na Gàidhealtachd.
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'The Testament of Gideon Mack'

ROS: Sgìre Thighearna

2000an

claistinneach; cruthan-tìre litreachais

Am Baile

Literary Landscapes: James Robertson

Tha a' chuibhreann chlaistinneach seo o 'The Testament of Gideon Mack' le James Robertson, foillsichte an 2006. <br /> <br /> 'Come on.' I said to Lorna and I put my arm through hers. 'Let's go and see the Black Jaws.'<br /> <br /> We could already hear them. The last few days of rain had poured off the hills and swollen the upper reaches of the Keldo, and now thousands of gallons of water were being funnelled through the ravine every minute. The black cliffs were drumming with the sound of it. It was difficult to tell if the haze surrounding the trees was part of the fresh rainfall or spray rising from below. The path took a turn to the right and dropped a little towards a wooden bridge stretched across the ravine - an innovation since Augustus Menteith's day. Immediately to our left, at the path's turn, the ground fell away even more steeply, with trees stretching from it at odd angles, some almost horizontal, their roots like clawed hands clutching fiercely at the earth. The roar and reverberating boom of the river seemed to be coming up through the soil itself, through the layers of rock, through the trunks of the trees and the very soles of our boots. Even Jasper, who had shown only curiosity towards the crashing waves at the beach, trembled a little and slowed to a walk, keeping himself within easy reach of us. If he hadn't been behaving like this, I would have suggested to Lorna that she put him on the lead. As it was, there seemed little risk of him doing anything daft.<br /> <br /> But I had reckoned without the appearance of the rabbit. As we came down to the bridge, there was a sudden burst of movement to our right, and a brown shape shot across the path and into the undergrowth on the other side. Jasper was after it in a second. Lorna and I both yelled at him, but he was oblivious to anything but the rabbit. I have never seen a dog move so fast. The pursuit was over in seconds, however, because the rabbit, plunging down through the wet grass towards the wetter ferns and creepers which marked the edge of the cliff, took one leap too many as it strove to outpace the dog. Suddenly it was in flight, launched from the last scrape of rock into the spray-filled air. It hung there for a long second and then dropped out of sight like a flung toy. We couldn't hear above the din but we could see Jasper's desperate efforts to halt, the shower of mud and twigs and grass his back claws threw up as he skidded down the slope, and then he too disappeared. For one ghastly moment we waited to see his taut black body also flying into space, but there was nothing. Lorna let out a long scream, 'Jasper, O God, Jasper, O God, O God.' Nothing. And then, faintly above the terrible roar of the Black Jaws, a pitiful howl came back to us. Beyond our vision, but evidently perched somewhere on the edge of the precipice, Jasper was still alive.'<br /> <br /> Rugadh James Robertson ann an Kent ann an 1958 ach tha ceangalaichean aige ri Ros an Ear agus ri Cataibh - thàinig a shinnsearan taobh athar o Chinn Deis agus tha a phàrantan a' fuireach ann an Dòrnach. Dh'fhàs e suas ann an Drochaid an Àilein ann an Siorrachd Shruighlea agus rinn e sgrùdadh air eachdraidh aig Oilthigh Dhùin Èidinn. Chaidh a chiad leabhar de sgeulachdan goirid 'Close', fhoillseachadh ann an 1991.<br /> <br /> Bho 1993 gu 1995 bha James na sgrìobhadair-an-làthair aig Brownsbank Cottage, faisg air Bigear ann an Siorrachd Lannraig, an dachaigh a bha uaireigin aig a' bhàrd Hugh MacDiarmid. 'S e deasaiche 'Itchy Coo', clo-bhualadh clainne sa chànan Albannach, a th' ann an Seumas, agus tha e cuideachd air dà leabhar a dheasachadh o obair Hugh Miller, an clachair agus clach-eòlaiche o Chromba. <br /> <br /> Choisinn a nobhail 'Joseph Knight' (2003) leabhar na bliadhna san dà chuid, Comann Bratach na Croise agus Comhairle Ealain Alba agus chaidh 'The Testament of Gideon Mack' (2006) air an liosta fada do Dhuais Man Booker agus do Dhuais Sgrìobhadair a' Cho-fhlaitheis. Fhuair e duais Alba Chruthachail ann an 2006 agus tha e ag obair air a cheathramh nobhail. Tha e a' fuireach ann an Siorrachd Aonghais.<br /> <br /> Chuir James gu feum Clais Mhòr na Creige Duibhe, faisg air Baile Èoghainn, na mhodail airson na 'Black Jaws' a th' ann an 'The Testament of Gideon Mack'. 'S ann sa Chlais Mhòir cuideachd a shuidhich Hugh Miller uirsgeul o sheanchas a dh' innis e ann an 'Scenes and Legends of the North of Scotland'.