Flann O'Brien

The essay presents a hypothesis of Flann O'Brien reading and parodying Joyce's Ulysses in At Swim-Two-Birds as filtered through Wyndham Lewis's critique of Joyce in Time and Western Man. It argues that some of the tropes of time, materialities and anachronistic cultural references in At Swim reflect a knowledgeable use of Lewis's hostile framing of Joyce, while also tacitly parodying Lewis's avant-garde aesthetic proposal as anachronistic in the 1930s Ireland. The novel's temporality and ironic use of cultural references may hint at a disenchanted stance toward high modernism's aesthetic and political proposals and sketch an assemblage of philistinism and aesthetic conformism as the ironic follow-up to Joyce's monumental project of the national epic.

The following dissertation will explore the following selection of the word of Brian O'Nolan; At Swim Two Birds, The Third Policeman, The Dalkey Archive and his final novel An Béal Bocht, along with his columns for The Irish Times, Cruiskeen Lawn. Completed during my degree at Mary Immaculate College in Limerick City.

• ‘The highest praise I can give a critical book is that it makes me want to read or re-read the works discussed. Keith Hopper’s book on Flann O’Brien does that. He makes reading Flann O’Brien sound like an exciting and productive thing to do.’ (J. Hillis Miller, University of California, Irvine, 2009)

• ‘This study is impressive, even brilliant, in its scope, thoroughness, mastery, and persuasiveness. Not to be missed is its clear delineation of postmodernism as a valid and defined literary approach. Summing Up: Highly recommended.’ (R.R. Joly, CHOICE Reviews Online, October 2009)

• ‘Hopper is a good explicator, his approach is illuminating and such enthusiasm for Flann O’Brien is infectious.’ (David Malcolm, Times Literary Supplement, 30 October 2009)

• ‘Hopper makes his point with enviable ingenuity and pervasive force. He wears his stupendous erudition and expertise lightly and writes in a style that is sheer delight. […] Hopper has managed that rarest of feats: a scientific study from which both the expert and the layman can profit copiously’. (Rüdiger Imhof, ‘Postmodernist Policeman’, Irish Times, 1995)

• ‘Again and again the reader is pleased to have what has seemed merely whimsical in O’Brien’s text accounted for as the stratagems of an artist in brilliant control of a subversive fictional experiment. This is accordingly criticism of a high order and will certainly make an impact’. (Terence Brown, Trinity College, Dublin, 1995)

An unprecedented gathering of the correspondence of one of the great writers of twentieth century, the Collected Letters of Flann O’Brien presents an intimate look into the life and thought of Brian O’Nolan, a prolific author of novels, stories, sketches, and journalism who famously wrote and presented works to the reading public under a variety of pseudonyms. Spanning the years 1934 to 1966, these compulsively readable letters show us O’Nolan, or O’Brien, or Myles Na gCopaleen, at his most cantankerous and most intimate.

Starting from Svetlana Boym’s concept of the off-modern as a side alley, unexplored potential of modernity, the paper tackles the potentialities and asynchronicities of an undercurrent of (late) modernist Menippean satires that appeared beginning with the 1930s as a reaction both to the canonical works of “core” modernists and to the preceding mimeticist literary tradition, through the work of maverick Hungarian novelist Miklós Szentkuthy (1908-1988), whose gargantuan output found a sympathetic coterie in Hungary starting only from the 1960s, to become a major influence on the writers of the 1970s-80s postmodern “prose turn”. Szentkuthy’s work of encyclopedic scope and ambition (the 10-volume St. Orpheus Breviary started in 1939 with Marginalia on Casanova, and introduced by the monumental “preparation for writing”, the 1934 Prae) is essentially structured as an extended commentary on writing and on the literary tradition, thus sublimatedly metafictional; it is closer in typology to Menippean satire than to the anti-novels of the late 1930s, and constitutes a huge mock-encyclopedia of learning. Starting with Prae, Szentkuthy’s novels go in the face of anthropomorphism, attempting a mathematicalized and biological, “dehumanized” writing of radical contingency and contiguity, a writing of potentiality and virtuality. Their language poetics capitalizes a theory of wordplay which, while steering clear of programmatic avant-garde experimentation, comes close to the Wakean practice of portmanteau-ing and which was exploited to the fullest by Szentkuthy less in his own early work than in his stylistically exuberant and Wake-ified translation of Ulysses (1974) – a text that was to definitely shape the disseminative language poetics of Hungarian postmodernism.

"Drawing together a wide range of focused critical commentary and observation by internationally renowned scholars and writers, this collection of essays offers a major reassessment of Aidan Higgins’s body of work almost fifty years after the appearance of his first book, Felo De Se. Authors like Annie Proulx, John Banville, Derek Mahon, Dermot Healy, and Higgins himself, represented by a previously uncollected essay, offer a variety of critical and creative commentaries, while scholars such as Keith Hopper, Peter van de Kamp, George O’Brien, and Gerry Dukes contribute exciting new perspectives on all aspects of Higgins’s writing, including his radio plays, his critical work, and the Harold Pinter film adaptation of Langrishe, Go Down. Langrishe too is revisited, while convincing cases are made for the major significance of later novels such as Bornholm Night-Ferry and Lions of the Grunewald, as well as Higgins’s unorthodox trilogy of autobiographies. This collection confirms the enduring significance of Aidan Higgins as one of the major writers of our time, and also offers testament that Higgins’s work is being rediscovered by a new generation of critics and writers.


"

В статье рассматриваются особенности ирландского макабрического юмора в романах Дж.Джойса, Ф.О’Брайена и С.Беккета, написанных в 1930-1940-е гг. Макабрический юмор, служащий защитным механизмом против страха смерти, рассматривается автором статьи вслед за В.Мерсье в качестве одной из главных особенностей ирландского литературного юмора. В статье утверждается, что макабрический юмор в рассматриваемых произведениях играет структурообразующую роль и служит средством реализации философских воззрений
художников.

The article examines the specific features of Irish macabre humour as manifested in the novels by J. Joyce, F. O'Brien, and S. Beckett written in the 1930s and the 1940s. Macabre humour as a defense mechanism against the fear of death is considered by Vivian Mercier as one of the main characteristics of Irish literary humour. The article supports this view and posits that macabre humour plays in the given novels a defining role and serves as a means of expressing the authors' philosophical views.

In Fantasies of Self-Mourning Ruben Borg describes the formal features of a posthuman, cyborgian imaginary at work in modernism. The book’s central claim is that modernism invents the posthuman as a way to think through the contradictions of its historical moment. Borg develops a posthumanist critique of the concept of organic life based on comparative readings of Pirandello, Woolf, Beckett, and Flann O’Brien, alongside discussions of Alfred Hitchcock, Chris Marker, Béla Tarr, Ridley Scott and Mamoru Oshii. The argument draws together a cluster of modernist narratives that contemplate the separation of a cybernetic eye from a human body—or call for a tearing up of the body understood as a discrete organic unit capable of synthesizing desire and sense perception.

The following collection explores Ireland's complex relationship with Britain and continental Europe. From varied perspectives, gathered from the "Ireland - Europe: Cultural and Literary Encounters" conference - hosted by Sofia University "St. Kliment Ohridski" - literary criticism and linguistic studies are combined to approach this broad topic, resulting in an eclectic body of work: including essays on William Makepeace Thackerary, Flann O'Brien, Tom Greer, George Bernard Shaw, James Joyce, multilingualism, and the European Union. There is also a special series of articles devoted to W.B Yeats to commemorate the 150th anniversary of his birthday.

In 1941, Brian Ó Nualláin published An Béal Bocht under one of his many pseudonyms, Myles na gCopaleen. Although An Béal Bocht is primarily recognised as a parody of the Gaeltacht autobiographies, Ó Nualláin’s satirical critique of professional folklore collection and the field of ethnography is also of significant interest. At the time of the novel’s publication, the Irish Folklore Commission (1935–1971) was gaining momentum and the era of the Irish Folklore Institute (1930–1935) was within recent memory. This article focuses on the brief account given by the main character of the novel, Bónapart Ó Cúnasa, in which he depicts a folklore collector as he attempts to record oral material from ‘scoth an bhochtanais’ (the very best of poverty). Comprising a mere four pages within the novel, this satirical account nonetheless raises numerous questions about the dynamic between collector and ‘informant’ and indeed, about the ethics of collecting and archiving oral material.

Drawing on folkloristic and ethnographical perspectives, this article explores some of the most interesting questions that Ó Nualláin raises concerning fieldwork in An Béal Bocht. By utilizing sources from both folklore scholarship and the Gaeltacht biographies, Ó Nualláin’s critique is situated within its ideological context in terms of literature and folklore. Accounts of professional folklore collectors employed by the Irish Folklore Commission, as well as Ó Nualláin’s Irish-language journalism, are also drawn upon to better understand the national and international context of Ó Nualláin’s critique.

Using an interpretation of myth and place from diverse thinkers such as Robert Pogue Harrison, Bruno Schultz, and Calin Mihăilescu, my presentation briefly traces the thematic and intertextual resonance of place in the Irish literary landscape, examining Joyce and Heaney to inform my reading of Flann O’Brien’s wildly comic and intertextual novel At Swim-Two-Birds (1939) through the old story of Buile Shuibhne as a demonstration of how place interacts with the imaginative possibilities opened by space.

From peg legs to prosthetics, meniscus tears to arthritis, the experimental fiction of the twentieth century is rife with slow men. This paper will follow the twentieth-century evolution of the male protagonist from able to disabled by calling on examples from Samuel Beckett’s Molloy and Flann O’Brien’s The Third Policeman. Where critical negotiations of fictional handicap are often grounded in the works’ social, economic, and historical context, my reading will trace the theme’s metaliterary dimension. Narrative explorations of physical impediment traditionally signal the breakdown of creative agency and the failure of artistic inspiration; an author struggles to conclude or promote the plot when his or her protagonist is resistant to forward movement. The two novels in question repeatedly undermine such self-reflexive signposts. The manner in which they do so will be brought in evidence of two observations on the authors’ views on writing and text. First, the broken subject is no longer a figure for blocked writing but rather the site for the proliferation of language. Second, the protagonist’s handicap – that figurative exploration of an alternative to the Cartesian cogito – assumes the key to his maker’s poetics. That is to say that the method whereby Beckett and O’Brien stage their narrators’ infirmities is illustrative not only of their views on writing but also of the divide evident in their respective reflections on the craft. Where movement in Beckett is belaboured, forced, painful, and ineffectual, The Third Policeman’s one-legged men suffer no such limitations. The former explores a writing that issues forth from inertia, the latter, a writing that issues from collage, a piecing together of incongruous parts. O’Brien’s protagonist is as much a collation of bits and pieces as is the de Selby Index he has written. The paper will conclude with the suggestion that by tracing the evolution of such alternative models of textual production we uncover a hitherto uncharted link between the authors’ poetics and the manner in which they literally deconstruct their writer-narrators. That language exceeds subjectivity has been made clear by twentieth-century theories ranging from Saussure ́s linguistics to Lacan’s psychoanalysis. Molloy and The Third Policeman bring this realization to bear on the ensuing displacement of the writing act. It is to this attempt to relocate, reshape and rethink the writing subject that the paper will attend.

• Editors' Introduction: A(nother) Bash in the Tunnel / Neil Murphy & Keith Hopper

• The Hidden Narrator / Aidan Higgins

• Representation as a Hollow Form, or the Paradoxical Magic of Idiocy and Skepticism in Flann O'Brien’s Works / Thierry Robin

• Voidance in The Third Policeman / Robert Lumsden

• Flann O’Brien: A Postmodernist Who Happens to be a Thomist / Carlos Villar Flor

• "Un-Understandable Mystery": Catholic Faith and Revelation in The Third Policeman / Jennika Baines

• Infernal Poetics / Infernal Ethics: The Third Policeman Between Medieval and (Post)Modern Netherworlds / Maciej Ruczaj

• Butter-Spades, Footnotes, and Omnium: The Third Policeman as ’Pataphysical Fiction / Anthony Adams

• "That Carrousel Inside and Outside My Head": Flann O’Brien and Pale Fire / Joseph Brooker

• Lightness of Touch: Subtracting Weight from the Narrative Structure of At Swim-Two-Birds / W. Michelle Wang

• Flann O’Brien’s The Hard Life & the Gaze of the Medusa / Neil Murphy

• Tall Tales and Short Stories: Cruiskeen Lawn and the Dialogic Imagination / Flore Coulouma

• Flann, Fantasy, and Science Fiction: O’Brien’s Surprising Synthesis / Val Nolan

• An Béal Bocht and An tOileánach: Writing on the Margin—Gaelic Glosses or Postmodern Marginalia? / Brian O’Conchubhair

• A Saga to Remember: Flann O’Brien’s Unfinished Novel / Amy Nejezchleb

• A Flann O’Brien Checklist

pp. 139-172

This chapter highlights the necromancer episode in Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels, wherein a sorcerer enables Gulliver to summon the spirits of famous dead men, as a strategy by which to mock, desacralize and thereby swerve free of their overbearing historical influence.  Gulliver’s séance has been twice reenacted: in W. B. Yeats’s 1934 play “The Words Upon the Window-Pane”, wherein the ghost of Swift himself is channeled for mockery in a Spiritualist séance; and in Flann O’Brien’s 1964 novel The Dalkey Archive, wherein the revenants of St. Augustine and James Joyce are channeled for the same treatment.  This chapter concludes with García Márquez’s 1989 novel The General in His Labyrinth, wherein Irish aides-de-camps become the chroniclers of—and Mediums channeling—Simón Bolívar in his final days.

In Waiting for Godot (1953) Beckett draws upon a non-temporal stasis that has paralyzed the nation over the past decades, and demystifies such a paralysis by structuring the play around not only a fixed milieu and an unnamable savior but also a widespread unwillingness in appreciating the urgency of this dominant spirit of stasis. I argue the roots of such severe pessimism, formlessness, and radical stasis as dominant elements in the works of Irish moderns can be found in a dichotomous perception of modernism and its emergence and development in post-independence Ireland. The rise of the State and their neoconservative politics of formation appear as internal forces that obstructed a proper appreciation of Irish modernism inside and outside Ireland. By exploring the roots of modernism in post-independence Ireland, and the conflict between modernism and the rise of a neocolonial State, this essay examines a critical and ideological reticence within the nation which considers Irish modernism as a sub-category of the movement rather than an independent variety, precluding a reading of Irish moderns in at once a national and international context.

Er(r)go,
jest pięć co najmniej powodów, nie licząc naszych związków z Madagaskarem, dla których warto poświęcić studiom postkolonialnym uwagę i odrzucić zbyt łatwy pogląd, iż podejmuje się je w krajach nie mających z kolonializmem nic wspólnego jedynie ze względu na modę lub ich popularność na Zachodzie.

Trzy powody metodologiczne. Po pierwsze, dyskurs postkolonialny należy do tych sposobów mówienia, które podważają ustalone i znaturalizowane systemy reprezentacji i konstruowania świata, które wskazują, iż reprezentacja jest w istocie kreacją rzeczywistości z perspektywy dominującego i uznanego za naturalny dyskursu ideologicznego — dyskurs postkolonialny charakteryzuje się "nastawieniem polemicznym i potencjałem krytycznym w stosunku do zastałych,skonwencjonalizowanych konstruktów, jak rasa, historia czy tożsamość" (Katarzyna Nowak) oraz, per analogiam, wszelkich innych konstruktów. Po drugie, jest to jeden z tych dyskursów, który musi permanentnie przyglądać się sobie, znajdować się w stanie ciągłej autorefleksji, a to z dwóch powodów: z jednej strony, by nie ulec przesyceniu kategoriami konstruowanymi przez kultury mające tendencję do dominacji i marginalizowania innych kultur, i by w ten sposób nie dokonywać ich krypto re-kolonizacji, z drugiej zaś strony, by — w ekspiacyjnej negacji wszystkiego, co zachodnie, europejskie lub własne — nie ulec "terrorowi marginesu". Po trzecie, dyskurs postkolonialny uświadamia nam i w praktyce analitycznej demonstruje lokalność każdej — w tym i naszej, czy szerzej, zachodniej — kultury. Domagając się przeformułowania historii i geografii oraz nowego spojrzenia m. in. na "historiozofię" kartografii, wskazuje na nieunikniony perspektywizm wiedzy. I władzy. Nauki wynikające z powyższego, to lekcja krytycznego konstruktywizmu i krytycznej autorefleksji oraz wyczulenia na grozę i siłę politycznych ideologii rozproszonych lub ukrytych w pozornej niewinności znaku.

Powód egzystencjalny. Jeszcze jedna lekcja wrażliwości na Innego.

Powód merytoryczny. Można postulować systematyczne badania postkolonialne w Europie Wschodniej i Środkowej; zachowując lub modyfikując przesłanki zachodnich studiów postkolonialnych, mogłyby one zainteresować się własnym obszarem, którego specyficzne doświadczenie kolonialne i postkolonialne jest od dziesiątków lat udziałem.

Numerem tym — pod gościnną redakcją Zbigniewa Białasa — rozpoczynamy cykl podobnych wydań w przyszłości, kiedy co jakiś czas do gościnnej opieki edytorskiej zapraszać będziemy wybitnych specjalistów w dziedzinie, w której mieścić się będzie problematyka planowanych numerów.

Wojciech Kalaga

The essay articulates the specific translation problems encountered in translating Flann
O’Brien’s ludic novel At Swim-Two-Birds (1939) into Hungarian in a framework of translation studies,
also drawing on research on Joyce in translation. It tackles issues such as the necessity to invent
literary styles for the book’s embedded style parodies, especially where the ‘originals’ are unknown in
the TL culture; and the choice of idiom/ minor language(s) (Hiberno-English, as well as the
Finn/Sweeny translatorese), for which a form of the TL that could function as a translated idiom had to
be invented. As a possibility, harnessing Transylvanian Hungarian is explored − somewhat similarly to
A. Oţoiu’s Romanian version of ASTB (2005), which also resorts to Transylvanian Romanian accents
for rendering the same idiolects. Further points of interest are the issue of Gaelic red herrings and
direct translations from the Gaelic; the possibilities of foreignizing language use, especially in the
frame of Latinate pedantry; the strategies for rendering the (mis)quotes, literary references, Joycean
allusions; and, last but far from least, the translators’ adventures with Flann O’Brien’s vicious puns.
The essay also explores the four-handed translation process, resulting in a dialogic, and multilayered,
Hungarian text that attempts to speak in as many styles and voices as the original.

This paper examines the ways in which Beckett and O’Brien, as Irish authors unraveling a larger imperial narrative, make use of the motif of the bicycle as means to embody a post-humanist approach to literary creation.  As a moving image of the text’s own auto-production, the figure of the bicycle evokes the way in which, for Beckett and O’Brien, writing itself demands, to use O’Brien’s words, a kind of “atomization” or becoming Other of the author, a becoming technology.

Folklore, as a historical and cultural process producing and transmitting beliefs, stories, customs, and practices, has always thrived and evolved in the broader context of history and culture. Consequently, tradition and modernity have long coexisted and influenced one another, in particular in the world of folk narratives, orality and literature, storytellers and writers. Since the nineteenth century, folklorists (a category including a variety of figures) have collected, transcribed and published pieces of oral tradition, thus giving folklore a textual form and nature. However, folk narratives continue to be also a living and performed experience for the tradition bearers, a process giving rise to ever new and different expressions, according to the changing historical, social, cultural, and economic conditions. To be sure, folklore – and folk narrative – needs to be constantly lived and performed to remain something actually pertinent and significant, and not only within the oral and traditional contexts. Interestingly, between the nineteenth and the twentieth centuries, folklore increasingly came to be regarded as and transformed into an inheritance, a valuable, national heritage particularly fitting for those countries, such as Ireland, in search of a strong, national identity. In this light, folklore and folk narratives, beside their routine existence within their original contexts, were consciously " performed " by the official culture, which employed them in politics, education, literature, etc. In the process, it could happen that folk materials were dehistoricised and idealised, " embalmed " according to Máirtin Ó Cadhain, and even trivialised. This situation was turned into a fruitful and significant source of inspiration for the literary parody of Myles na gCopaleen (Flann O'Brien) who, in his Gaelic novel, An Béal Bocht, revealed the funny yet distressing truth of the Irish folklore being misunderstood and betrayed by the Irish themselves.

Resumen. El folklore, como proceso histórico y cultural que produce y transmite creencias, historias, costumbres y prácticas, siempre ha evolucionado en el amplio contexto de la historia y la cultura. Por consecuencia, la tradición y la modernidad se han influido mutuamente a lo largo del tiempo, particularmente en el campo de las narraciones populares, la oralidad y la literatura, los contadores de historias y los escritores. Desde el siglo XIX los folcloristas (que es

Irish writer Brian O'Nolan, better known as Flann O'Brien (1911-1966), among other pseudonyms, published At Swim-Two-Birds, his first novel, in 1939. Early reviewers and contemporary critics alike have hailed it as a metafictional masterpiece, relevant for its mise en abyme narrative structure, lawless characters and mock-epic bravado. However, little attention has been devoted to how such an innovative design was originally conceived by its author in the first place. This article holds the belief that Huxley's fourth novel, Point Counter Point (1928), stands as a major intertext among the many literary sources O'Brien might have perused when composing At Swim-Two-Birds. Apart from the presence of several direct references to Point Counter Point within O'Brien's novel, Huxley's text encompasses metafictional mechanisms that function in a similar way to those at work in O'Brien's novel. Although there is no factual proof that O'Brien had read Huxley's novel before he wrote At Swim-Two-Birds, this article endeavours to prove the existence of formal links between both metafictional assemblages by means of a detailed comparative analysis, ultimately concluding that O'Brien had indeed read Point Counter Point before setting out to write his first novel and found the self-referential features of Huxley's work potentially productive.

El escritor irlandés Brian O'Nolan, mejor conocido como Flann O'Brien (1911-1966), entre otros pseudónimos, publicó su primera novela, At Swim-Two-Birds, en 1939. Tanto los críticos de la época como los actuales han recibido la novela como una obra maestra de la metaficción, relevante por su uso de la estructura narrativa mise en abyme, además de destacar sus anárquicos personajes y su bravuconería en parodiar el género épico. No obstante, se ha prestado poca atención a cómo diseñó el autor un armazón narrativo tan original. Este artículo cree firmemente que la cuarta novela de Aldous Huxley, Point Counter Point (1928), es un elemento intertextual de importancia entre las muchas obras en las que O'Brien se inspiró mientras componía At Swim-Two-Birds. Además de la existencia de referencias directas a Point Counter Point en la novela de O'Brien, el texto de Huxley hace uso de mecanismos metaficcionales similares a los diseñados por O'Brien. Aunque no existe prueba fehaciente de que O'Brien leyese la novela de Huxley antes de escribir At Swim-Two-Birds, este artículo trata de probar la existencia de conexiones formales entre ambos esqueletos metaficcionales llevando a cabo un análisis comparativo, con la conclusión final de que O'Brien había leído Point Counter Point casi con total certeza antes de escribir su primera novela e intuyó que las características autoreferenciales de la novela de Huxley podrían funcionar productivamente en su novela.

This paper seeks to offer a unitary vision of Flann O’Brien’s novels
through a comparative reading with the immram, a genre from the
Irish literary tradition with which O’Brien’s work bears numerous
meaningful affinities and analogies. Particular attention is devoted to
the Immram curaig Máele Dúin, whose fundamental characteristics
we find, in variable measure and manner, in O’Brien’s novels. The
intolerance of linearity of plot, the digressive spirit and progression
of the narration, the taste for literary artifice and meta-literary play,
the centrality of the theme of guilt and above all the complete fluidity
of time-space confines which are violated and continually re-defined
are essential elements of O’Brien’s narrative which can be recognized,
albeit in nuce, in the immram.
Keywords: conceptions of time and space, Flann O’Brien, immram,
metaliterature, narrative strategies

This essay addresses a relatively untouched topic in the field of Brian O’Nolan / Flann O’Brien studies: the Irish-language “Tales from Corkadorky” vignettes published during 1941–42 in the “Cruiskeen Lawn” column O’Nolan wrote as Myles na gCopaleen for the Irish
Times. This essay builds on the brief existing critical remarks about this series of columns by exploring, in unprecedented detail, Breandán Ó Conaire’s suggestion that the “Tales from Corkadorky” are modelled on the Sgéalta Mhuintir Luinigh (Munterloney Folktales) collected by Professor Éamonn Ó Tuathail and published in 1933. After summarising existing criticism, the essay presents the wider context of folklore collection for O’Nolan’s work in Irish, the background linking him to Ó Tuathail’s Sgéalta Mhuintir Luinigh, and proceeds to conduct a
comparative reading of O’Nolan’s use of dialect features and themes from this source material in the “Tales from Corkadorky”. Facilitated by its analysis of the first tale to appear, the essay traces the origin and development of the tale format as it interacts with other recurring elements in “Cruiskeen Lawn”.