Vocabul-Eire: Grand

Grand.  Ain’t life…?

The word “grand” is an Irish catch-all.  Though it implies something imposing, startling, remarkable, the best translation I can offer for its common usage in Ireland is “fine.”  As in:

“How was last night?”  /  “Ah sure, it was grand.”

“It’s been ages, how’ve you been?”  /  “I’m grand, not a bother.  You?”

“You must be exhausted after your flight…”  /  “Not at all, sure I’m grand.”

Lest you’ve a picture in your head of a jovial, red-faced leprechaun, booming “I’m GRAAAAND” at every occasion, let me disabuse you of this notion.  Its delivery is most often nonchalant, accompanied by a self-deprecating smile and shrug of shoulder.  Almost as if to imply that things AREN’T grand, or the night wasn’t particularly good, or that said flight has indeed left you shag-tired, but you’re hardly going to ruin the inquisitor’s day by complaining.  Pain/misery/discomfort is to be borne, not shared.  Particularly when it’s of the mental variety.  

Conversely, the word “fine” is most often used in reference to weather.  As in:

“She’s a fine day out, alright.”  (Days, like ships, are always female.)

Or in the case of a wedding:  “They surely got a fine day for it, eh?”  

At which point, a member of the group will inevitably remark on the gorgeousness of the bride, the stunning bridesmaids’ dresses, the beautiful flowers, the service.  I’m consistently humbled, in fact, by the lack of snide commentary at Irish weddings.  It just isn’t done -- a trait I find aspirational, given my American proclivity to not-so-gently pick apart the happiness of others.  

Certainly, the bride may look like a tango orange, spilling inappropriately out of her sweetheart neckline, the peach bridesmaids’ dresses may cling disastrously, the service may have been long/boring/horrifyingly traditional…

…but for this day, at the very least, the couple’s choices are perfect and opinions to the contrary – like pain or discomfort – are to be borne, not shared.  

And I think that's grand.