I was a bit apprehensive as December 21 approached. I had
only a few pages to go & I’d be half way through Finnegans Wake by James
Joyce. I love the book, but sometimes I only get a few lines in & then it
takes me somewhere else. Then the next time I’ll read 15 or twenty pages before
being swept away. But it’s been slow going. I’ve been at it for years. Always
makes me laugh. & it’s just so damn hilariously Irish when I read it
aloud, which is my favorite way to enjoy
it, if not the usually most convenient. You can only imagine the strange looks
I get from folks when they hear something like, “That a head in thighs under a
bush at the sunface would bait a serpent to a millrace through the heather. Arm
bird colour defdum ethnic fort
perharps?”.
Luckily for me, the world didn’t change Friday, so I got to
read on in FW & finally made it to the middle of the cycle. As
rewarding as starting in the middle of the final sentence, knowing it all goes
round & round, & how everything thereafter has been, the reward at the
center of this masterpiece is nothing short of stellar, as great literature
goes (it’s even got one of the 100 letter words). This is what I just read…
‘Thus as count the
costs of liquid courage, a bullyon gauger, stowed stivers pengapung in bulk in hold
(fight great finnence! brayvoh, little bratton!) keen his kenning, the queriest
of the crew, with that fellow fearing for his own misshapes, should he be himpself
namesakely a foully fallen dissentant from the peripulator, sued towerds
Meade-Reid & Lynn-Duff, rubbing the hodden son of a pookal, leaden be
light, lather be dry & it be drownd on all the ealsth beside, how a camel
& where the deiffel or when the finicking or why the funicking, who caused
the scaffolding to be first removed you give orders, babeling, were their
reidey meade answer when on the cutey (the corespondent) in conflict of
evidence drew a kick at witness but (missed) & for whom in the dyfflun’s
kiddy removed the planks they were wanted, boob.
Bump!
Bothallchoractorschummminaroundgangsumuminarumdrumstrumtruminahumptadump-waultopoofoolooderamaunsturnup!
---Did do a dive, aped
one.
---Propellopalombarouter,
based two.
---Rutsch is for
rutterman ramping his roe, seed three. Where the muddies scrim ball. Bimbim
bimbim. & the maidies scream all. Himhim himhim.’
If those aren’t the most sumptuous words yeev eve her eard,
thin eye doe nutkno Watt ewe mite buy trinking.
Enjoy,
NØ
NØ - Hey! Merry xmas to you....Looks like Joyce wrote Irish beat.
ReplyDeleteBack in the die, I was part of a Wake reading group in Berkeley, CA. We always read aloud, usually got threw 2-4 pages a session. We also worked with a copy of McHugh. Do you have one? I found it very helpful for initial level decoding. Anyway, thanks for the mammaries.
ReplyDeleteto Mighty Michelle & the Lord,
ReplyDeletethanks for the comments. Joyce was probably the unwitting GawdFodder of the Beats. & I have the Blues McHugh's, but try not to use it too much, as I am trying to see what I get on my own. Thank you both for the murmuries
(one of the great things of quoting FW is watching spellcheck go insane).