I ferried there from the mainland in one of those tar-covered little leather boats that used to be common in the western part of the country. Peig was an old woman when approached by a representative of the Irish Folklore Commission and asked to write the story of her life on that forlorn island.Ĥ0 years ago I traveled to Blasket. As far as I know, none of the islanders objected to the relocation. It housed between 100 to 150 souls until in the 1940s the Irish Government in a fit of uncharacteristic responsibility removed the remaining twenty-two of them and resettled them in other parts of the country. The island at the tip of the Dingle Peninsula is bleak and barren. She lived much of her life on Great Blasket Island off the Western Coast of Ireland. Peig Sayers’, Peig, is considered one of the classics of Gaelic literature and perhaps all literature as well. Had I known in advance half, or even one-third, of what the future had in store for me, my heart wouldn’t have been as gay or as courageous it was in the beginning of my days.” I have experienced much ease and much hardship from the day I was born until this very day.

“I am an old woman now, with one foot in the grave and the other on its edge.

Peig sayers grave